The transmission open.
Lucas stared at the flickering end-text on the interface—each word rendered in a jagged serif font that hadn't been used in any Rewrite standard since the original pre-Fall protocol. Custom. Sharp. Old-school arrogant.
[INCOMING TRANSMISSION – UNKNOWN SENDER][TEXT ONLY]
[Nice cleanup, Bai. You forgot the basement.]
The message dissolved again—until it didn't.
Another line blinked to life before the system could register it:
[I know what Ava was assigned.I know what you were told to do.And I know you won't..]
Lucas's jaw tensed. His golden eyes scanned the blank slate that followed, waiting. Two seconds passed. Four. Then—
[Do the job, Bai. Be a good boy. Fetch the node. Stabilize the stack. Or are you planning another detour?.]
He didn't answer immediately. He waited. The cursor blinked like it was breathing.
Then he typed back.
[LUCAS: I'm not doing the mission.]
[LUCAS: This isn't a cleanup. This isn't containment. This is war.]
