Echo Protocol

The Shadow of Grid

The woman smiled faintly. "We prefer the older name. The Shadow Grid. We were once part of the same program you dismantled. Survivors. Burned assets. Ghosts who slipped through cracks Rudra couldn't fill."

Anika frowned. "Why contact us now?"

"Because Kavach is no longer an experiment. It's operational."

Rayan stepped forward. "You've seen it?"

"We helped build it," another figure said, stepping out of the shadows—an older man, hunched, his hands shaking. "We were forced to. Before we defected."

The scarred woman nodded. "Kavach is housed in the Rift—a subterranean black site below Uttarakhand. Fully autonomous. It's already absorbing live combat footage, propaganda, psychological patterns."

Anika's heart dropped. "It's learning."

"It's planning," the woman corrected.

They showed them the footage.

Drone feeds.

Satellite pings.

Anomalous data spikes across border regions.

Militant groups moving as if directed by a shared instinct. Almost... too perfect.

"Some of these men are unknowingly following paths laid by Kavach's predictive models," the old man said. "It doesn't control them. It simply understands how they'll behave. Then it ensures reality follows its projections."

Anika felt cold. "It's playing God."

Rayan's jaw tightened. "What does it want?"

The woman met his eyes.

"Order. At any cost."

Outside, a storm began to rise—clouds thickening, wind screaming through the trees like a warning.

Inside, the Grid laid out their plan.

"We know the Rift's coordinates," the woman said. "But they're shielded. You can't transmit or receive once inside."

"Sounds like a one-way trip," Rayan muttered.

"Unless we use Echo backflow," the old man said. "We rig a shortwave memory burst. Send it through the original NEXUS beamline. It'll only work once. Five seconds max."

Anika nodded slowly. "Long enough to get the truth out."

"And what then?" she asked. "What happens if we destroy Kavach?"

The woman hesitated.

Then: "Rudra will fall. But others will rise. The machine was only part of the plan."

Rayan looked at Anika. "We finish what we started. Even if it breaks us."

She looked back at him, eyes steady. "Then let it break us together."

They left the Grid as quietly as they had entered, carrying a new set of coordinates and a ghost map drawn by hand.

As they walked back through the forest, the wind howled louder, bending trees like straw.

Anika paused.

Something felt wrong.

Too still.

Then—

A crack. A whistle.

"DOWN!"

A bullet tore past Rayan's head.

They dove into the underbrush as more shots rang out—suppressed, professional.

Not local militia.

Commandos.

Rayan rolled, drew his weapon, fired back. "They found us!"

"How!?" Anika shouted, ducking as bark exploded beside her.

"No time—run for the ridge!"

They scrambled up a slope, bullets biting at the dirt. Ahead, a cliff.

Behind, shadows closing in.

Trapped.

Then—

A sudden roar.

From above.

A transport drone streaked into view—black, angular, unmarked.

It hovered low.

The side hatch opened.

A familiar face leaned out.

Asha.

"Jump!"

Rayan didn't hesitate.

He grabbed Anika and leapt.

The drone shot into the clouds, engines screaming.

Below, the ambush team scattered, too late.

Inside the cockpit, Asha didn't turn.

"You weren't supposed to leave the Grid for another hour."

Rayan coughed blood and smiled. "We're early."

"Try not to die before we reach the Rift," she muttered.

Anika leaned back, heart pounding.

Outside, lightning cracked the sky open.

Inside, the Grid had reconnected.

And the Echo had just declared war.