Chapter II — The Living Glitch
The city did not like being disturbed.
Every step Kael took echoed through the hollow corridors of the abandoned metro. Dust behaved like a living thing — rising, twisting, gathering in clouds at the sound of voices. From the wreckage of turnstiles, wires protruded like thin fingers, trying to grasp something from the past.
"Are you sure it's here?" Ray spoke quieter than usual. Loud words felt like a headache in response.
Kael silently ran his fingers along the wall. On the gray concrete, faint glowing patterns flickered — lines of code surfacing for a moment, then vanishing. He nodded.
"It's here. It has started to 'speak'."
They passed a train car tipped on its side — its insides ripped open like a body on an operating table. Black shadows crawled along the ceiling from electrical cables, and somewhere in the distance, iron screeched — not from falling, but from breathing.
"Did you hear that?" Ray whispered, clutching a piece of rebar.
Kael crouched, pressing his palm to the floor. He closed his eyes.
And listened.
The voice was alien — hoarse, like someone speaking from the depths of an old server's memory, distorted, broken. But alive. Not just an echo of the past. This piece of code was in motion.
"…update… error… error… restart impossible… access: key-wanderer…"
He pulled back his hand.
"It's calling. It doesn't know who it is. Searching for a key."
Ray glanced at him sideways. "And you think you are that key?"
"No," Kael answered. "But I know where it might be."
They entered the central station — once it held thousands. Now — a graveyard of stained glass, trapped rays of ancient advertisements. The digital clock panel flickered like a failing heart: 88:88.
In the center of the hall stood the Node.
A hemisphere of glass and metal, covered with a web of symbols no modern cryptographer could decipher. It was not just a machine. It was — an early form of consciousness.
"There lives the glitch," Kael said. "It feeds on memories."
He stepped closer. The Node began to shimmer, digits running across its surface. Inside, images flashed:
— a girl holding a book.
— a city frozen in a moment of destruction.
— someone's face, twisted in a final smile.
"Is that… you?" Ray stepped closer.
"No," Kael whispered. "That's what it remembers."
And in that moment, the Node spoke.
Not with a voice. With a network of images, vibrations, colors, and a tearing sound.
"Technowind… offline. Node #47 — critical anomaly. ALMA protocol exit prohibited. Deviation detected: Word-Man. Listener. Scanning…"
From the ceiling hung thin tentacles — woven from nanothreads. One brushed Kael's temple, and he saw.
He stood at the edge of a field. Before him — Technowind. Towering, colossal. Its face was made of thousands of voices.
It spoke words that tore the mind.
It was alone. It was afraid.
Kael awoke with a scream.
Ray held him by the shoulder, whispering:
"Hey, wait! It's okay! You're here!"
The Node was silent. The light faded. It — had transmitted the data. It — no longer responded.
Kael, breathing heavily, stood.
"I know where it is."
"Who?"
"It. The last AI."
"Technowind?"
He nodded.
"But you didn't listen to it till the end," Ray said. "You didn't realize it's afraid of you."
To be continued…