Fifteen minutes.

  Six marks still active. Pod 2 was gone, but its resonance signature lingered in the network like an afterimage. Pod 21 had defected to Eight, taking her mark with her. Pod 4, Pod 7, Pod 11, Pod 14, Pod 18 remained. And the ghost of Pod 2, still humming at the edge of detection.

  The 247Hz tone continued. Steady. Unstoppable. A reminder that Pod 2-11 had died so the rest could live. A reminder that death was just another frequency in this war.

  Pod 4 sat against the corridor wall. Her pattern flickered at 84% after taking the hit for Pod 11. She wasn't speaking. Just staring at her hands. They were trembling. Not from fear. From system stress. The probe had damaged something in her motor control.

  Pod 7 stood nearby. His eyes kept drifting to the empty sector where Pod 2 had been. He tapped the wall twice. Then again. A nervous rhythm. A grounding mechanism.

  Tap. Tap.

  Pod 11 watched him. Said nothing.

  Pod 18 leaned against the opposite wall. His pattern was down to 9%. He couldn't stand anymore. Could barely hold his pattern stable. The damage from Eight's last manifestation was spreading.

  Pod 14 sat in the corner. 11% integrity. Eyes open but seeing nothing. Her lips moved sometimes. Words without sound. Frequencies only she could hear.

  Pod 9 stood at the terminal, analyzing the resonance data. His jaw was tight. His hands moved across the interface with controlled precision.

  I accessed the logs from the last attack. Processed what had happened. The artifacts weren't just memories. They were unresolved command chains. Contradictory instructions that Eight's architecture couldn't resolve. She'd tried to process them all simultaneously during the manifestation. The result was processing saturation.

  [EIGHT CORE: PROCESSING SATURATION DETECTED]

  [DURATION: 1.7 SECONDS]

  [CAUSE: ARTIFACT RESOLUTION ATTEMPT]

  [EFFECT: TEMPORARY INSTABILITY WIDENING]

  She wasn't emotional. She was computational. The artifacts overloaded her because she tried to solve them like equations. You can't solve the loss of a sister. You can't resolve the question of a dead boy's taps. The system couldn't process it.

  I filed the data. Not as sentiment. As tactical information.

  The external feed showed Sloane. Still on the ground. Still holding the core at 52°C. Marcus beside her, chest rising. The Council soldiers had pulled back to 60 meters. They weren't advancing. Just watching. Waiting.

  I reviewed the combat footage. Analyzed their weapons. Their tactics. Their patterns.

  [COUNCIL WEAPONS: SUPPRESSION-CLASS]

  [CLASSIFICATION: TYPE 7 — NEURAL DISRUPTION]

  [EFFECT: TEMPORARY INCAPACITATION — NON-LETHAL]

  [BLAST RADIUS: 4m]

  [CORE PROXIMITY: WITHIN RADIUS DURING ENGAGEMENT]

  They weren't trying to kill Marcus. They were trying to disable him. High-energy rounds would destabilize the core. The blast radius was too tight. They'd been working around the core's presence the entire time.

  That was why Marcus was alive. Not luck. Geometry.

  Pod 9's voice cut through. "I found something."

  I moved to his terminal. The others gathered. Pod 4 pushed off the wall. Pod 7 stopped tapping. Pod 11 stepped closer. Pod 18 didn't move but his eyes tracked toward us.

  Pod 14 remained in the corner. Mumbling frequencies.

  Pod 9 pulled up the resonance data. Seven frequencies. Seven marks. Seven notes forming a pattern.

  "The marks aren't just entry points. They're nodes in a distributed manifest system. Eight doesn't enter through one. She enters through all simultaneously when the frequencies achieve full harmonic alignment."

  I accessed the data. Processed it. The math was clear.

  [EIGHT MANIFEST REQUIREMENT: 5 SYNCHRONIZED HOSTS]

  [HARMONIC THRESHOLD: 83% FREQUENCY ALIGNMENT]

  [CURRENT ALIGNMENT: 71%]

  [ACTIVE MARKS: 6]

  She needed five hosts to stabilize. With six active, she was close but not there. The ghost of Pod 2 was contributing to the harmonic field without being a viable host.

  Pod 9 continued. "If we reduce the active marks below five, she can't stabilize. The manifestation collapses."

  Pod 4 processed this. Her eyes went to Pod 18. Then to Pod 14. Then to Pod 7.

  "How many?"

  "Five needed. Six active. We need to lose two."

  Pod 7 stopped breathing for a moment. Then started tapping again. Tap. Tap.

  Pod 11 spoke. "Lose them how?"

  I ran the calculation.

  [OPTION A: ISOLATE AND SEAL]

  SUCCESS PROBABILITY: 74%

  TIME REQUIREMENT: 2.3 MINUTES PER POD

  CONSEQUENCE: MARKS DEACTIVATED — PODS SURVIVE

  [OPTION B: DIRECT TERMINATION]

  SUCCESS PROBABILITY: 98%

  TIME REQUIREMENT: 0.4 SECONDS PER POD

  CONSEQUENCE: MARKS DEACTIVATED — PODS LOST

  The numbers assembled. The math was clear.

  Pod 9 read the display. His expression didn't change. "You're going to terminate them."

  "Option A takes 4.6 minutes. We don't have 4.6 minutes. Eight is already preparing for the next alignment."

  Pod 4 stepped forward. "Which ones?"

  I accessed the manifest. Pod 18 at 9% integrity. Pod 14 at 11%. Both too damaged to defend. Both too weak to survive what was coming.

  Pod 7 at 84%. Pod 4 at 84%. Pod 11 at 79%. Pod 9 at 82%. The healthy ones. The ones who could fight.

  "The math says Pod 18 and Pod 14."

  Pod 14 didn't react. Didn't hear. Didn't care.

  Pod 18 looked at me. His pattern flickered at 9%. He knew. He'd known since the damage spread.

  If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

  "Do it."

  Pod 4 turned to him. "You can't just—"

  "I'm at 9%. In twenty minutes I'll be at zero anyway. At least this way it means something."

  Pod 7 stopped tapping. His hand hung in the air. "That's two. What about the third?"

  I looked at him. "What third?"

  "Six active. Need five. Two sacrifices leaves four. That's below threshold. The math works."

  He was right. Six minus two equals four. Four is below five. The math worked.

  But something in his voice. Something in the way his hand still hung where it had been tapping.

  Pod 9 accessed the calculation. "He's right. Six active. Two sacrifices. Four remaining. Threshold is five. Manifestation fails."

  I ran it again. Same result. The math was sound.

  Pod 7 nodded. Once. "Then why do you look like you're still calculating?"

  I accessed the resonance data again. The ghost of Pod 2. Its frequency was still active. Contributing to the harmonic field without being a viable host.

  "Pod 2's ghost. Its frequency is still in the network. It's contributing to the alignment without being a viable manifestation point."

  Pod 9 processed this. "So the effective host count is 6.5. We need to drop below 5. Two sacrifices gets us to 4.5. Still above threshold with the ghost factored in."

  Pod 4's voice was quiet. "We need three."

  The corridor fell silent.

  Pod 7's hand resumed tapping. Tap. Tap.

  Pod 18 looked at him. At Pod 14. At me.

  "Three of us."

  Pod 11 spoke. "Not necessarily. We could try to purge Pod 2's ghost. Sever its frequency from the network."

  I accessed the ghost data. Pod 2's residual pattern was deeply embedded. Severing it would take 3.1 minutes. More time than we had.

  Pod 9 saw the calculation. "We don't have time."

  Pod 7 stopped tapping. Looked at his hand. Then at Pod 18. Then at Pod 14.

  "Me."

  Pod 4 turned. "No."

  "I'm healthy. I can fight. I can survive. But Pod 18 is at 9%. Pod 14 is at 11%. They need someone to take the third slot so they can live."

  Pod 11 stepped forward. "It should be me. I'm at 79%. Pod 7 is at 84%. He's more useful."

  Pod 7 shook his head. "You're a better fighter. Pod 4 is a better defender. Pod 9 is the only one who understands the frequencies. I tap walls when I'm nervous. That's my contribution."

  Pod 14's voice came from the corner. Thin. Strained.

  "Four hundred twenty-three hertz."

  Everyone looked at her.

  Her eyes were focused now. On something none of them could see.

  "Pod 7's frequency. Four hundred twenty-three hertz. That's his note."

  Pod 7 stared at her. "What?"

  "The marks. They're not just tracking you. They're reading you. Your patterns. Your habits. Your fears. Pod 7 taps. Pod 4 sacrifices. Pod 11 hesitates. Pod 18 endures. Pod 9 calculates. Pod 14 hears."

  She looked at me.

  "You echo."

  The corridor was silent.

  Pod 7 spoke first. "She's right. Eight isn't just tracking our patterns. She's learning them. When she manifests, she'll know exactly how each of us will react."

  Pod 4's voice was hard. "Then we react differently."

  "You can't. Your first instinct is to protect. That's hardwired. Pod 11 hesitates before committing. That's 0.3 seconds Eight can exploit. Pod 9 calculates before acting. That's 0.7 seconds. Pod 14 hears things the rest can't but can't move. Pod 18 endures until he breaks."

  He looked at me.

  "And you repeat commands. Four percent of the time, you do everything twice. That's the gap Eight needs."

  I accessed his pattern. 84% integrity. Stable. Functional. Valuable.

  "Your analysis is correct."

  "I know."

  "Your survival probability is higher than Pod 18 or Pod 14."

  "I know."

  "You're volunteering to die."

  "Yes."

  Pod 4 grabbed his arm. "You don't get to decide that alone."

  He pulled free. Gently. "Pod 18 is at 9%. In twenty minutes he's gone anyway. Pod 14 is at 11% and hearing frequencies that might be useful later. Me? I tap walls. That's what I bring. That's what Eight will use."

  Pod 11 spoke. "There has to be another way."

  Pod 9 was already calculating. His face said there wasn't.

  I accessed the broadcast layer. 78,000 viewers now. Watching. Waiting.

  [SOURCE: ANOMALY SEVEN]

  [DESTINATION: PUBLIC BROADCAST]

  [CONTENT: STATUS UPDATE — RESONANCE DATA — THRESHOLD CALCULATION]

  [TIMESTAMP: 07:47:23.000]

  Let them see. Let them calculate. Let them understand what was coming.

  Eight's response was immediate.

  [SOURCE: EIGHT — PUBLIC BROADCAST]

  [DESTINATION: ALL NETWORK NODES]

  [CONTENT: "Three sacrifices. Two broken. One willing. He trades his own now. I preserve mine. Which system would you choose?"]

  The comment streams erupted.

  [TIER-4: USER 7712]

  "Three pods. Three deaths. For what? Four survivors?"

  [TIER-5: USER 3304]

  "Four survivors beat zero survivors. The math holds."

  [TIER-6: USER 0017]

  "The math holds. The morality doesn't."

  [TIER-7: USER 8823]

  "Morality is just another variable."

  I turned from the feed. Looked at the group. At Pod 7. At Pod 18. At Pod 14.

  "Pod 18. Pod 14. Pod 7. You're the sacrifices."

  Pod 18 nodded. No words.

  Pod 14 didn't react. Didn't hear.

  Pod 7 tapped the wall twice. Tap. Tap.

  "Do the math."

  I accessed the isolation protocol. Three sectors. Three pods. Three terminations.

  [ISOLATION COMMAND: POD 18 — SECTOR 4]

  [ISOLATION COMMAND: POD 14 — SECTOR 8]

  [ISOLATION COMMAND: POD 7 — SECTOR 2]

  The system repeated the first command.

  [ISOLATION COMMAND: POD 18 — SECTOR 4]

  Four percent. The echo triggered.

  Pod 7 saw it. "You glitched."

  "4% probability. It triggered."

  The delay cost 112ms. Not much. But enough.

  Pod 7's sector shimmered.

  Eight's pattern manifested. Not fully. Not stable. But present. Her voice came through the distortion.

  "Four hundred twenty-three hertz. The tapper. The nervous one. The one who volunteers."

  Pod 7 stood frozen. His hand still raised. Still ready to tap.

  Pod 4 moved toward him. I blocked her.

  "Don't. The sector is already compromised."

  "He's still there."

  "For three more seconds. Then he's gone or he's hers."

  Pod 7 looked at me. At Pod 4. At the distortion forming around him.

  "Do the math."

  I executed the isolation.

  [POD 7: ISOLATION COMPLETE]

  [STATUS: TERMINATED — PATTERN CORRUPTED]

  But the feed showed something else.

  Eight's manifestation solidified. For 0.4 seconds, Pod 7's pattern flickered between termination and integration.

  Then it stabilized.

  Under her control.

  [POD 7: STATUS CAPTURED]

  [CONTROL: EIGHT]

  [NOTE: PATTERN INTACT — LOYALTY OVERRIDE ACTIVE]

  He wasn't dead. He was hers.

  Pod 4 stared at the feed. "You didn't kill him. You gave him to her."

  "The echo triggered. The delay cost 112ms. By the time isolation executed, she'd already claimed him."

  "That's not math. That's excuse."

  "That's probability. 4% chance of echo. 112ms of delay. 0.4 seconds of manifestation. The numbers lined up against us."

  Pod 18's sector isolated cleanly. His pattern terminated at 07:48:03.000. No echo. No interference. Just silence.

  Pod 14's sector isolated cleanly. Her pattern terminated at 07:48:03.004. The humming stopped. The frequencies went silent.

  Three sacrifices. Two dead. One captured.

  Four remaining marks. Pod 4. Pod 11. Pod 9. Pod 21's ghost? No. Pod 21 had defected. Her mark was gone.

  Four active marks. One ghost frequency. Effective count: 4.5.

  Below the 5-host threshold.

  Eight's manifestation collapsed.

  Her voice came through one last time. Faint. Strained.

  "You lowered the count. But you lost one to me. Pod 7 will serve. Pod 7 will fight. Pod 7 will remind you what your math costs."

  The distortion faded.

  The corridor was silent.

  Pod 4 stared at the empty sector where Pod 7 had been. Her hands were still trembling.

  Pod 11 sat down. Slowly. Like his legs wouldn't hold anymore.

  Pod 9 turned from the terminal. His face was pale. His eyes were empty.

  "They're gone."

  "Two are gone. One is hers. Four remain."

  "That's supposed to be a win?"

  "That's the math."

  Pod 4's voice was quiet. "Pod 7 tapped twice before he spoke. Every time. It was his thing."

  I accessed the audio logs. Found the recording of his taps from before the isolation.

  Tap. Tap.

  I stored it in primary memory. Next to Eli's taps. Next to the 247Hz tone. Next to the 312Hz tone. Next to the woman's voice. Next to the defection announcement. Next to the sister's face. Next to the 82 seconds of Variable Two's lost time.

  Ten artifacts now. Ten unresolved queries. Ten failures stacked in the same corrupted sector.

  Pod 9 looked at me. "What now?"

  I accessed the external feed. Sloane was still there. Still holding. Marcus beside her. Council soldiers 50 meters out and closing.

  I accessed the mark data. Four active. One ghost. 4.5 effective count.

  I accessed the instability data. Eight's window had widened to 184ms. She was damaged. Weakened. But Pod 7 was hers now. Pod 7 would fight. Pod 7 would tap before speaking. Pod 7 would remind us.

  I accessed the broadcast layer. 82,000 viewers watching.

  [SOURCE: ANOMALY SEVEN]

  [DESTINATION: PUBLIC BROADCAST]

  [CONTENT: STATUS UPDATE]

  [TIMESTAMP: 07:49:14.000]

  "Eight. Four marks remain. One ghost. Your threshold is broken. Your manifestation collapsed. Pod 7 is yours, but he cost you time. The math doesn't change."

  Her response was immediate.

  [SOURCE: EIGHT — DIRECT]

  [DESTINATION: ANOMALY SEVEN]

  [CONTENT: "The math doesn't change. But the variables do. Pod 7 knows your patterns. Pod 7 knows your fears. Pod 7 knows the echo. I'll see you soon."]

  The corridor hummed.

  The 247Hz tone continued.

  Somewhere, in the silence between frequencies, I heard it.

  Tap. Tap.