Cipher’s voice returned, calm now. “Your father was a sentimental man. He didn’t tell you the other cost. The EMP will stop your heart if you’re within three feet of the tablet. He didn’t want you to be a martyr. He wanted you to walk away.”

But outside her window, the city lights stayed on.

“Jenna. If you’re watching this, I’m gone, and you’re holding the stylus. First—don’t trust the voice on the phone. That’s Cipher . He’s the one who reactivated The Beast. He wants you to terminate the satellite because doing so will also fry every backup civilian grid in a 500-mile radius. He’s not saving people. He’s clearing the board for a new world.”

The screen flashed: UPLOADING—FORK BOMB DEPLOYED . Cipher screamed something through the phone—cut off by static. Then a low hum filled the room, rising in pitch.

“You have sixty seconds to unplug that thing before the tri-homed seeker locates your thermal signature,” said a voice like crushed gravel. “Your father bought you thirty-seven days of cover. You just burned fourteen of them.”

The driver didn’t install. It unfurled .

Jenna had eleven seconds. She yanked the USB cord, ripped the tablet from its port, and threw it into the far corner of the lab. She dove behind the steel table as the air turned white and silent.

“I’m the reason your father is dead. And right now, I’m the only thing between you and a remotely induced cerebral hemorrhage. So listen fast.” A pause, filled with the sound of keyboard clicks. “That tablet driver isn’t hardware. It’s a skeleton key. Arthur built it to talk to The Beast —a legacy kill-sat network that was supposed to be decommissioned in ’94. It wasn’t. It’s been running on autonomous mode, and someone just fed it new targeting parameters.”