Lira Voss's experience inside the server room during Chapter 6.
The server room's cold blue glow bathed Lira Voss in light, but inside she felt a storm of shadows. Her hands trembled, not from fear of the Veil's agents outside, but from the memory of the last time she'd faced code like this. Back then, she was a teenager, desperate and reckless, her hacking skills a shield against a world that had erased her family with a single keystroke. Tonight, the stakes were even higher.
As Mira and Draven covered her, Lira's mind raced with lines of code and flashes of the past: her parents' faces fading from every database, her own existence nearly wiped out. The Shadow Protocol was the Veil's ultimate weapon—an algorithm that could erase anyone, just as she had been erased. She felt the old guilt surface, the knowledge that her early hacks had unwittingly given the Veil the tools to build this nightmare.
But this time, she refused to run. Every firewall she breached was an act of defiance, every bypassed security layer a step toward redemption. The system fought back, adapting to her every move, as if Veylan himself was watching through the wires. Sweat beaded on her brow as she muttered to herself, blocking out the alarms and the distant gunfire.
Mira's steady voice cut through the chaos, grounding her: "You can do this. We're not alone." For the first time in years, Lira believed it. She wasn't just a ghost in the network—she was part of something real, something worth saving.
When the final lock gave way and the Protocol's code began to unravel, Lira felt a surge of relief and vindication. She had faced her demons in the language she knew best—and this time, she'd won.
Mira's Perspective
The hum of servers filled Mira's ears, but her mind was louder—a storm of memories and questions. She'd spent her life chasing the truth, always on the outside, digging where others feared to look. Now, standing at the heart of the Veil's power, she felt the weight of every story she'd ever uncovered pressing down on her shoulders.
She thought of her father, whose courage had cost him everything, and of the countless voices silenced by the Veil. Each keystroke Lira made was a battle not just for data, but for justice—for all the people who never got to tell their stories. Mira's hands shook as she relayed codes and patterns, her training as an investigative journalist anchoring her in the chaos. She knew the importance of staying impartial, of separating emotion from fact, but here, in this room, the lines blurred. The story was hers, too123.
As the Shadow Protocol's countdown loomed, Mira's resolve crystallized. She wasn't just reporting history—she was shaping it. And she would not let fear or grief dictate the ending.
Draven's Perspective
Draven pressed his back to the cold steel wall, weapon ready, every muscle coiled. Years of intelligence work had taught him to expect betrayal, to trust only what he could see and control. But nothing had prepared him for this: protecting not just himself, but two people who now meant more to him than his own safety.
He listened to the distant footsteps of Veil operatives and the frantic tapping of Lira's keys. Each second brought memories of his sister—her laughter, her disappearance, the hollow ache left behind. Draven's mission had always been about vengeance, about righting the wrongs done to his family. But in this moment, it was about more: redemption, and the hope that sacrifice could mean something.
As he held the line, Draven's thoughts sharpened. He would buy them time, no matter the cost. The city had taken everything from him, but he could give it back hope—even if it meant he wouldn't see the dawn.