The air inside the AI lab was electric with tension. The overhead lights flickered as the internal systems scanned the perimeter again—Lucia's field protocol now running at triple sensitivity. Every second, the cylindrical AI zipped silently through the air, glowing with a faint bluish hue as it passed over reinforced windows and encrypted servers.
Ren stood before the central terminal, arms folded, jaw tight.
"Lucia," he said sharply. "Status?"
"Perimeter secure," Lucia's voice echoed with her usual soothing clarity. "But a residual data echo has been traced—observational pings from a non-commercial satellite. The source remains unknown."
Ren's hands tightened into fists. Someone was watching—not just through physical eyes but through invasive digital means. And whoever it was, they were persistent.
He tapped into the interface and began reviewing the pattern of scans. It wasn't just surveillance anymore. They were looking for something specific—something only he could see coming.
Aoi had grown quieter in recent days. Not because of mistrust—but because of fear.
She was smiling through her days at the office, but at night, she curled closer to him, her grip on his shirt tighter. The tension in her sleep, the way she flinched at sudden noises, the heaviness behind her beautiful eyes—it all told Ren that time was running out.
And so, with Lucia hovering beside him, Ren made his decision.
"It's not enough to react anymore," he said softly. "I need to build something proactive."
Lucia glowed a gentle amber. "You are initiating the Sentinel Protocol?"
Ren nodded. "No more hiding behind glass and firewalls. I'm building a full-body nanotech suit—adaptive, intelligent, and mobile. If they come for her again…"
His eyes darkened. "They'll meet me."
Elsewhere that night
Aoi sat by the living room window, the shadows long behind her. The moonlight washed over her pale face as she stared into the distant countryside.
Her phone buzzed.
Unknown Number.
She didn't answer. But she didn't delete it either.
The threats were no longer loud. They were subtle. Constant. Heavy like a fog.
She could feel Naruse's gaze even if he wasn't there. And somewhere out there, Saki was watching too.
Her heart ached—not for safety, but for Ren. She didn't want him to carry the burden alone. And yet… she was already falling behind him.
"I'll protect him too," she whispered.
But deep inside, a fear remained:
What if she wasn't strong enough?
Back in the lab
Blueprints filled the holo-display in front of Ren. Concept sketches for micro-reactors. Nanotube alloys. Shape-memory polymers. Lucia assisted in creating an optimized framework for a suit no thicker than skin, but capable of withstanding gunfire, pressure, and even electromagnetic blasts.
He would need four weeks at minimum.
But he'd do it in two.
Because the next strike wouldn't be random.
And this time… he would be ready.