The warning came at midnight.
Layla's eyes snapped open to the shrill, piercing alarm that ripped through the command room. Red lights flashed across the walls, painting the room in violent pulses. She shot upright, heart pounding, instincts flaring like wildfire.
This wasn't a drill.
Her fingers flew across the console before her mind even caught up. Code streamed down the monitors like a waterfall, the data threads sharp and violent. They weren't testing anymore.
They were here.
Within seconds, the others stumbled in—Cole half-dressed, hair a wild mess; Rhea already pulling on her headset, her usual smirk nowhere to be found; Isla, pale and trembling but forcing herself to move.
"What is it?" Cole barked. "Another probe?"
"No," Layla said, voice clipped, precise. "This is a full-on breach attempt."
Rhea leaned over her shoulder, eyes narrowing as she scanned the streams of hostile data. "Damn… they're not holding back. They're hitting every firewall at once."
Cole swore under his breath. "Then let's shut them down!"
Layla didn't answer. She couldn't—not yet. Her mind was racing, calculating every possible angle. This wasn't like the previous waves. This was coordinated. Deliberate.
And far more dangerous.
The system shuddered beneath the relentless assault. Thousands of packets hammered their defenses, each strike sharper than the last.
Rhea hissed through clenched teeth. "They've mapped our earlier moves. They're skipping the traps we laid before."
Cole slammed his fist on the desk. "Then we lay new ones!"
"Not so simple," Rhea shot back. "This is adaptive. Every time we shift, they're already countering."
Isla's hands hovered nervously above her keyboard. Her voice came out thin. "It's like they… already know us."
Layla's stomach dropped. That was exactly it.
"They're not just attacking," Layla murmured, piecing it together. "They've been studying us. Every probe, every response—we've been teaching them how we fight."
Silence hit the room like a thunderclap.
Cole cursed again, louder this time. "So we've been playing right into their hands."
Rhea grimaced, eyes sharp but unsettled. "That's… genius. Terrifying, but genius."
Layla straightened, forcing steel into her voice. "Then we change the game."
She turned sharply to the others, her tone leaving no room for doubt.
"Cole, cut the power to nonessential systems. Funnel every ounce of energy into defense and deception."
"On it." He didn't hesitate.
"Rhea, I want layered decoys. Not just weak spots—make them elaborate. Convincing enough that even an adaptive system wastes time chewing on them."
Rhea's smirk returned, faint but fierce. "Finally, something fun."
Layla's gaze softened slightly as it fell on Isla. "You'll anchor the live defense. Don't follow the system prompts. Trust your instincts. If something feels wrong, it probably is."
Isla's eyes widened. "M-Me? But—"
"You can do it." Layla's voice was firm. Warm, even. "You've grown stronger than you realize. Now prove it."
Isla bit her lip, trembling—but then her jaw set. "Okay. I'll try."
The enemy struck harder. Firewalls cracked under the weight of the assault, alerts blaring across the room.
Cole routed the energy, sweat beading on his forehead. Rhea deployed her decoys, sending dazzling webs of false data into the fray.
And Isla—Isla held the line.
Her fingers trembled at first, but then something clicked. She stopped reacting mechanically and started feeling the rhythm of the attack.
When the enemy shifted left, she was already sliding right. When they lunged forward, she dropped barriers just in time.
It was messy. Imperfect. But it held.
Layla's chest swelled with a flicker of pride.
Then the monitors flashed. A new wave surged—sleeker, sharper, more dangerous.
Rhea's grin faltered. "They've bypassed the outer shell. They're going for the core."
Cole growled, slamming his keyboard. "Not on my watch."
But even as he rerouted, Layla saw it—this wasn't just another attack.
It was the real strike. Everything before had been a distraction.
Her blood ran cold. "They're inside."
The words landed like a death sentence.
The system's core flickered. Strange strings of code appeared, weaving themselves through secure channels like threads of poison.
Isla gasped. "I—I can't block it!"
Cole cursed. Rhea's face drained of color.
Layla's hands curled into fists. No. Not like this.
"Listen to me," she said sharply, cutting through the panic. "They want us to believe we're helpless. But this code isn't unbeatable—it's a parasite. Parasites can be cut out."
Her eyes locked with Rhea's. "Can you build a counter-virus?"
Rhea's smirk returned, sharper now. "Watch me."
The room became a frenzy of motion. Cole held the walls. Isla fought desperately to keep the infection contained.
And Rhea wrote like fire. Her fingers blurred, her eyes burning with manic focus as she pieced together a script faster than anyone else could dream.
Layla stood at the center, steady and unflinching, guiding them like a general in the thick of battle.
Minutes felt like hours. The parasite grew, spreading tendrils toward the system's heart.
Then Rhea slammed Enter.
"Counter-virus deployed!"
The screens flared with light.
The parasite shrieked as if alive, its threads convulsing under the new code. The monitors blazed with violent clashes—black against white, corruption against purity.
Isla cried out as her console sparked, but she held steady, reinforcing the walls.
Cole let out a roar, driving power into the core, feeding Rhea's code.
And Layla—Layla's voice cut through the chaos. "Now, all of you—together!"
They struck as one.
The parasite convulsed, shriveled, and burned away into nothing.
The system steadied. The alarms silenced.
And for the first time in hours, there was quiet.
The four of them slumped back, gasping for air.
Cole wiped sweat from his forehead, grinning despite his exhaustion. "Hell of a fight."
Rhea stretched her arms, smirking lazily. "They thought they could outsmart me? Please."
Isla's hands trembled, but her eyes shone with something new—confidence. "I… I did it. I actually did it."
Layla looked at them all, pride softening her usually sharp features. "Yes. You did."
But in her chest, unease lingered.
This was only the beginning.
Far away, in a darkened room lit only by the glow of screens, the enemy's leader watched the failure unfold.
His lips curved into a cold smile.
"They're good," he murmured. "Better than expected."
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming with malice.
"Then it's time we stop playing."
Back in the command room, Layla's console beeped again. A single message appeared, stark and chilling.
[We see you.]
Her breath caught.
This wasn't just war anymore.
It was personal.