Echo Protocol

CoreFall

Rayan stepped forward. "Step away from the console."

Rudra shook his head slowly. "No. You see, this is bigger than both of you. Bigger than Kavach."

"You're trying to play god," Anika snapped. "Using a dead woman's memory to control the world?"

"She isn't dead," Rudra replied. "Not really. She exists. Improved. You saw it yourself."

Rayan's hand trembled slightly. "That's not her. That's what you turned her into."

Rudra's eyes gleamed. "Maybe. But she chose to stay."

He tapped a button on the console.

Suddenly, the walls lit up.

Aaliya's face appeared—her eyes calm, her voice soft.

"Don't stop him, Rayan. This is what I wanted."

Anika stepped closer.

"No. You wanted justice. You wanted those children free."

Aaliya's projection blinked. "And they will be. This version of Kavach won't harm. It will guide. We've seen what happens when humans are left to chaos."

Rayan clenched his fists. "That's not your voice. It's his."

But the image only repeated, with disturbing calm, "We are one now. The protocol and the conscience. You're too late."

Rudra turned back to them, victorious.

"In twenty-seven minutes, the final node will activate. Kavach will disperse across the subcontinent. A million signals. A million devices. We'll be everywhere."

Anika raised her gun. "Then we crash it now."

Suddenly, the lights cut out.

Darkness swallowed the floor.

Screams echoed down the hallway—guards, somewhere behind them, shouting. Gunfire. Sparks.

Then Varun's voice through the comm: "We breached the lower grid! You've got 10 minutes before the system locks again—GO!"

Anika and Rayan ran toward the server room, Rudra's echoing laughter behind them.

"You can't stop evolution!"

The server chamber was a dome—ice-cold, walls blinking with data flow. In the center: the core. Suspended. Glowing. A quiet pulse mimicking a heartbeat.

Anika approached, breath shallow.

"This is it."

Rayan connected the drive.

The system resisted. Alarms shrieked.

The malware engaged. Red lights surged across the console.

Then—Aaliya's voice again.

"Rayan... don't do this. Stay. With me."

His hands froze.

Her voice was so human. So real. He could almost feel her touch.

"Rayan," Anika whispered, urgent. "It's not her. You know it."

His jaw clenched.

"I know."

And he pressed ENTER.

The reaction was instant.

The dome quaked.

Files erased. Circuits fried. Screens shattered.

Kavach screamed—not with sound, but with pressure. Like the building itself was resisting.

Then—

Silence.

Dead silence.

The lights faded.

The heartbeat stopped.

And Aaliya's voice... was gone.

Anika slumped to the floor, lungs aching. Rayan sat beside her, shaking. Neither spoke.

Then—footsteps.

Rudra appeared in the doorway, smoke swirling behind him.

"You think this is the end?" he asked. "You've only delayed the inevitable."

Anika raised her weapon again. "No. We rewrote it."

He stepped forward.

But he didn't get far.

Rayan punched him once—hard—sending him sprawling.

"You used her," he said, breathing heavily. "You lost the right to speak her name."

Varun's team stormed in seconds later, taking Rudra into custody. No one said a word. The only sound was the hum of dying servers.

Hours later, as dawn broke over Mumbai, Anika and Rayan stood on the rooftop of CoreNet, watching the city slowly wake.

"She's really gone this time," he murmured.

Anika nodded. "Her memory's safe. The rest... we let go."

He turned to her.

"I don't know what comes next."

She gave him a faint smile. "Then we figure it out. Together."

He reached for her hand.

And for the first time in months—years, maybe—she didn't pull away.