"Move your ass or we both end up as scrap metal!" Jaxon’s voice barked in my ear, his hand gripping my upper arm so hard I could feel the reinforced plating of his glove digging into my skin.
I didn't move. I couldn't. My legs were shaking, and the Glitch protocol was screaming in the back of my skull like a thousand broken radios. The corridor was a mess of sparking wires and leaking coolant, the air tasting like ozone and burnt plastic. Behind us, the heavy thud of corporate Enforcers echoed off the metal walls. They weren't running; they were hunting.
"I can't... my legs," I hissed, leaning back against a jagged piece of wall.
Jaxon stopped. He didn't look back with pity—he looked at me like I was a malfunctioning piece of hardware that was slowing down his exit strategy. He stepped closer, his chest nearly brushing mine, the heat radiating off his tactical gear. He leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous vibration.
"Listen to me, Kael. You don't get to collapse now. We are tethered. If your heart stops, my pulse spikes. If you bleed out, I feel the leak. You want to die? Fine. But you're taking me with you, and I'm not in the mood for a suicide pact today."
I glared up at him, my vision flickering with red warning symbols. "Then break it. Cut the bond and leave me."
"And lose the key to the network?" He let out a sharp, mocking laugh and shoved me toward the exit. "Not a chance. Now walk, or I'll drag you by your hair."
I stumbled forward, my boots slipping on the slick floor. Every step felt like I was dragging a mountain. The bond between us—this twisted, parasitic link—wasn't just sharing vitals. It was pulling. I could feel his adrenaline, his cold focus, and a strange, jagged edge of anxiety that didn't belong to me.
"Left! Get left!" Jaxon yelled, suddenly spinning me around.
He slammed me into a recessed alcove just as a burst of plasma fire scorched the wall where I’d been standing a second ago. The heat was instantaneous, searing the air from my lungs. I was pressed flat against the cold steel, Jaxon’s body acting as a shield, his weight pinning me firmly. For a heartbeat, the only thing I could hear was the synchronized thumping of two hearts beating in a rhythm that wasn't their own.
"Stay down," he whispered, his breath warm against my temple.
I could feel the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers tightened on his weapon. I shifted, my hip brushing against his, and the Glitch protocol flared. A sudden surge of data flooded my mind—not my own memories, but his. A flash of a sterile boardroom. A hand signing a contract in blood-red ink. A voice saying, *'The asset must be recovered, not destroyed.'*
"What was that?" I gasped, trying to push away from him.
"What was what?" Jaxon snapped, already pivoting back toward the hallway.
"I saw... something. A room. A contract," I muttered, my voice trembling.
He paused, his gaze sharpening. He didn't move away; instead, he leaned closer, his eyes scanning mine as if looking for the glitch in the code. "The bond is leaking. It's not just vitals anymore. We're starting to bleed into each other."
"Great," I spat, sliding down the wall. "I get to share a brain with a corporate lapdog. This is just fantastic."
"Careful with the mouth, Kael. I'm the only reason you're not in a disposal bin," he replied, though there was a flicker of something—curiosity, maybe—in his expression. He reached out, his thumb brushing the edge of my jaw, checking the stability of my neural port. The touch was brief, almost clinical, but the spark it sent through the bond was like an electric shock. I jerked my head back, my pulse hammering.
"Don't touch me," I warned.
"I'm checking your connection. You're spiking," he said, stepping back as the sound of boots returned. "They're closing in. We can't outrun them on foot. We need to hit the network hub up ahead. If I can upload your protocol as a decoy, we can slip out through the vents."
"And what happens to me when you 'upload' my head?" I asked, standing up with a grimace.
"You'll feel a bit lightheaded. Maybe a little dizzy. You know, the usual side effects of having your consciousness partially shredded," he said with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes.
"You're a real charmer, Jaxon."
We sprinted toward the hub, the corridor narrowing into a kill-zone. The Enforcers appeared at the end of the hall—four of them, heavy armor, glowing visors, and rifles that could melt through a vault door.
"Get behind the console! Now!" Jaxon ordered, shoving me toward the glowing interface of the network hub.
I dove for the keys, my fingers flying across the holographic display. The Glitch protocol recognized the system immediately. It wasn't just a program; it was a master key. I felt the code sliding into place, unlocking layers of corporate security like a hot knife through wax.
"I'm in!" I yelled. "But it's fighting back! The firewall is—"
"Just hold it open!" Jaxon shouted.
He stepped out into the open, his rifle barking. He wasn't just shooting; he was dancing through the gunfire, a blur of precision and violence. He took a hit to the shoulder—a glancing blow from a plasma bolt—and I screamed.
It wasn't my scream. It was the bond.
I felt the searing heat rip through my own shoulder, the phantom pain so intense I nearly ripped my hands away from the console. I gasped, clutching my arm, though there was no wound there. Only the ghost of his agony.
"Damn it!" I choked out. "Stop getting hit!"
"Working on it!" Jaxon roared back.
He lunged forward, closing the gap with the last Enforcer. He didn't use the gun. He slammed a combat knife into the gap of the soldier's neck armor, twisting it with a brutal efficiency. As the Enforcer fell, Jaxon took a knee, his breathing heavy, his eyes locked on the hub.
"Now! Upload it!"
I slammed the final command. A blinding wave of white light erupted from the console, a digital scream that echoed through the entire sector. The network buckled. Every alarm in the building went off at once, and for a second, the world felt like it was tilting on its axis.
Then, the silence hit.
We both crashed to the floor, the sudden release of tension leaving us hollow. I lay on my back, staring up at the flickering neon lights of the ceiling. My chest was heaving, and I could feel Jaxon’s exhaustion bleeding into me, a heavy, grey fog.
"We... we did it," I whispered.
"Don't celebrate yet," Jaxon groaned, rolling onto his side. He looked at me, his expression unreadable. "The bond is still active. And it's changing."
I tried to sit up, but a sudden, violent jolt racked my body. It wasn't pain—it was a command. A signal.
Inside my mind, the Glitch protocol didn't just unlock; it shattered. A new window popped up in my vision, gold and shimmering, far more advanced than anything I'd seen before.
[FORBIDDEN UPGRADE: SYSTEM OVERRIDE UNLOCKED]
"What is this?" I whispered, reaching out to touch the flickering text.
Before I could react, my arm moved. Not because I wanted it to, but because someone else did. My hand flew up and gripped my own throat, squeezing tight. I tried to fight it, but my muscles were locked. I was a passenger in my own skin.
Jaxon leaped up, his eyes widening. "Kael? What the hell are you doing?"
I couldn't answer. My jaw was locked. Then, my own voice spoke, but the tone was wrong. It wasn't my voice. It was cold, cultured, and dripping with a terrifying kind of amusement.
"Hello, Kael," my voice said through my own lips. "I've been waiting a long time to see if you'd actually survive the scrap heap."
Jaxon froze, his gun half-raised. "Who is that?"
My hand tightened on my throat, nearly cutting off my air, as the voice laughed. "I'm the one who designed her, Agent Jaxon. And now, I think I'll take my toy back."