On the 54th floor of a sixty-story skyscraper, a man bolted up the stairs, his head whipping from side to side, eyes blown wide with panic.
"CHAIRMAN! CHAIRMAN!" he bellowed, his lungs straining against every breath. As he cleared the final step, his gaze shot toward the heavy doors on the left. "Urgent message for the Chairman!"
Inside, the Chairman, a lean middle aged man in a white suit, sat utterly still, eyes locked on a bank of screens displaying flickering CCTV feeds from deep within the Prime Technology Building, several blocks away.
Around him, his subordinates watched with that same fixed, suffocating intensity.
Before anyone could react to the muffled screams of the man, a thunderous roar erupted outside. Every head in the room snapped left toward the glass window in perfect unison as the blast shuddered through the skyscraper's foundations, setting the chandelier swinging violently overhead.
Through the windows, a blooming explosion tore across the night sky, painting it orange and red.
In the same instant, a quarter of the monitors turned static, and half went black. Those still live displayed a hellscape of twisted rebar, churning yellow flames, and dense clouds of gray concrete dust. Most of the Prime Technology Building had been reduced to rubble.
The chairman's fists unclenched, and the wine glass he'd been gripping hit the carpet with a dull thud. He rose slowly, his gaze locked on the flickering remains of the screens.
Through the smoke on the few live feeds, a lone figure moved with haunting precision. The figure cut down security thugs, the chairman's own men, colleagues on this very mission—dispatching every moving soul as if they were nothing but training dummies.
Even through the monitors' haze, the chairman recognized that silhouette. "That cunning bastard hid too well," he spat, jaw tightening. But he crushed the rage instantly, pivoting toward the door the moment it swung open.
The man, still gasping for air, swept his frantic gaze across the room until it landed on the chairman's furious face. "Chairman, that hacker—he's betrayed us. The lower floors are gone. Communications are dead, and toxic gas is flooding the stairwells."
The chairman approached, jaw clenched, and stopped inches from the man. He placed a left hand on his shoulder, eyes cold and unblinking.
"Freed? You said you vetted him personally before this operation, didn't you?"
"Y... yes, Chairman."
"Then remind me." His voice dropped to a whisper. "What was your 'professional' assessment of him?"
Freed swallowed, hands trembling. "That he was a nobody who'd never held a gun. From his build, his eyes… I thought he couldn't kill a fly, let alone a man. I thought he was just a skilled computer expert. But—"
"And yet," the chairman said quietly, "my stairwells are filled with dead men and rising poison. Do you grasp the weight of your oversight? Do you think a man who could orchestrate this would register as a mere nobody?"
"But, sir… the data on him—"
"Do you remember how I stressed the need for exhaustive background checks on everyone? Do you have any idea what that Vault represents?" The chairman's voice cut through the room, filling it with dread. "What it holds. The change the thing inside will unleash. The enemies already circling our walls, salivating for a taste of what we're bleeding to steal."
He leaned back, rubbing his forehead with his other hand. "Why am I even explaining—"
"Chairman, please—" Freed's plea cut him short, but the chairman only tightened his grip on the man's shoulder.
"But what?" he said. "Give me one reason I should let you keep breathing."
"He... he planted explosives in the basement. A lot of them. We don't have much time—"
Before the man could finish, the chairman spun sharply toward his men. "Pack everything. Now. We're leaving."
Immediately, the room exploded into motion. Men scrambled for the operation's most critical assets, scrubbing every digital and physical trace they could find. Within minutes, the inner circle piled into the elevator behind the Chairman, carrying the mission's most valuable items.
Several blocks away, a lone figure stood on the edge of a fifty-story rooftop. In one hand, he held a tablet; the fingers of his other hand danced across a bank of computers arranged on an elevated table. Wires snaked from the computers across the floor, tethering them to a heavy, reinforced metallic vault, a meter and a half tall, standing just a few meters to his right.
Beside his legs sat a rectangular box packed with dozens of small devices: detonators and remotes, each bearing only two buttons. Behind him, more crates of explosives loomed in stacks like a wall.
Aris reached into his pocket, withdrew a flip phone, and snapped it open. His eyes flicked between the tablet's CCTV feed of the elevator and the glowing countdown timer for the basement explosives.
Inside the elevator, the chairman's phone rang. He reached into his chest pocket, pulled it out, and glanced at the screen. Unknown caller. He answered anyway, already sensing who waited on the other end.
"Interesting choice, young man," the chairman said, his voice perfectly calm. "Calling me instead of running."
Aris smiled faintly. "Taking an elevator during a crisis? Not your finest decision, Chairman." His hand moved to the keyboard and with one final keystroke, the elevator lurched to a halt. The lights inside flickered and died to a dim emergency glow. Behind the chairman, his men stiffened in the sudden near-darkness, panic bleeding onto their faces.
"What do you want?" the chairman said.
"Good. Now we're talking." Aris's gaze drifted to the sealed metallic vault. "I don't want much. Just the passcode, all eight digits. Give me the code to the vault, and everyone in that elevator walks away."
The chairman's eyes widened before he let out a dry laugh, as though humoring a naive child. "Walk away?" He let the silence stretch, his men listening with rigid intensity. "Do I look like a child to you, young man? Even if you let us out of this box, do you think the owners of that biochip would ever let us live?"
"We're all owned by someone, boy. Maybe you'll survive a few hours longer than I will. But the moment you touch that chip, you'll understand exactly how small you are."
He paused, then leaned closer to the phone. "You're far too bold, meddling with investments and time that belong to people you can't even imagine. So let a senior offer you some advice." His voice hardened. "Don't be greedy. Return it to me, and I might find a way to save your miserable, greedy life."
Aris chuckled, his eyes drifting to the skyscraper blocks away, locking onto the fifty-seventh floor. "I know being greedy is foolish," he agreed, gaze never wavering, as if he could see their exact position through the glass and steel.
"Good, now—"
"Normally, that is." Aris cut him off. His eyes shifted to the vault. "But when the prize is this maddening?" He shrugged, gaze returning to the skyscraper. "Not being greedy is the real stupidity."
"Give me the digits. You know my profession. Locks slow me down, but they don't stop me. Eventually, the vault opens." Aris paused. "I already have the fingerprints, that's another barrier down."
"And when it does open? You know its capabilities, don't you? So I advise you not to be too hard on yourself. You can betray them and save your life. I'll guarantee you and your men a better life, no more looking over your shoulder, no more worrying about money. I'll support the families of your fallen men for life. Think twice. You're not my true enemy. Don't make me."
"You can try," the chairman replied after a long silence, his voice drained of hope. "But the code my men died to obtain stays with me. If I don't die in this elevator, I'll die for losing the chip. There is no 'walking away' for people like us."
Aris crouched beside the box of devices and picked up a remote. His thumb hovered over the red button. "Last chance. Want to reconsider?"
"Go on, then." The chairman smirked directly at the camera. This young man had outplayed everyone vying for the chip, but there was no way he'd detonate explosives in the heart of the city. What kind of monster would that make him?
Aris pressed his thumb down.
BOOM!!!
A thunderous blast tore through the city, shattering windows for blocks, painting the neon sky a violent orange. He grabbed another remote and pressed again.
BOOM!!!
A second skyscraper erupted. The roar made the already chaotic city feel caught in a hellstorm of fire and glass. Five more followed in rapid succession—bursts of golden flame igniting the sky until night burned like high noon.
One by one, the buildings surrounding the chairman's skyscraper collapsed. Aris reached for another remote but paused. He glanced at the tablet, watching the chairman and his men gripping the elevator rails for balance. He pulled out his phone and dialed one last time.
The chairman picked up. "Can you hear it, Chairman? Those are your neighbors. One last chance."
The chairman didn't answer. With a weary face, he simply hung up. As for his men, he knew their death was certain.
Seeing this, Aris lowered the remote. "If that's how you want it, then so be it."
His thumb pressed down.
A thunderous blast swallowed the skyscraper whole, erupting from the basement and devouring it floor by floor. The ground shuddered and split open. The earth around the surrounding buildings buckled and caved in, and within minutes a massive sinkhole yawned wide, consuming everything within hundreds of meters.
Aris watched, his gaze hardening as unlucky souls followed Prime Conglomerate's most important buildings into the abyss.
"It's worth it," he told himself, watching the buildings of his enemies fall one by one. Tonight, a kingdom had crumbled. "Father, Mother... I've finally avenged you." His voice was steady, but it had a flicker of burden he'd carried for twenty years disappearing. Twenty years of scheming, training like a madman, losing everything and everyone he knew.
For long minutes he stood there, the cool night wind against his face, letting the weight of his pyhric victory settle. Then he pushed the emotion aside and turned back to the running computer still tethered to the vault.
In the distance, sirens wailed. Screams rose from the chaos below. Aris didn't flinch. Running was pointless, the people who could finish creating the biochip his father had designed would track him anywhere. His only escape lay inside this vault. Hack it open. Take the chip. Implant it before they arrived.
Once it was inside him, he would be like a god in this world. His father had told him of its potential years ago: control over any technology, no digital traces, no money trails, no CCTV footprints. In a world utterly dependent on technology, he would be untouchable. Perhaps he could even threaten the entire world's top leaders.
The mere thought was enough to set his heart pounding with terrible excitement.
Minutes later, as he hunched over the computer, helicopters swarmed the sky. Their searchlights sliced through the smoke, blinding, relentless, sweeping over destruction so absolute it seemed unreal. Some beams scanned for survivors along the sinkhole's jagged edges. Others swept with more specific intent.
Aris stood motionless at the roof's edge, indistinguishable from any other witness filming the chaos. Mercifully, all eyes were on the crater. No one would imagine the culprit lingering at ground zero. Or so he hoped.
Half an hour crawled by. Then the computer gave a sharp chime.
He crossed the rooftop in three quick strides, eyes locking onto the screen.
3837648
He seared the digits into his mind. Snatching up a small case of harvested fingerprints, he turned and strode toward the vault, the helicopters' roar now deafening above the neighboring buildings.
His fingers trembled as he punched in the code. Three. Eight. Three. Seven. As the final digit clicked home, he pressed the fingerprints to the scanner. The last lock disengaged with an anticlimactic click. No fanfare. He simply grasped the handle and pulled apart the heavy metallic doors.
A rush of cryogenic mist billowed from the vault, biting the air with instant frost. At its center, suspended in a magnetic field, hovered a black triangular prism. Aris narrowed his eyes. Faint, circuit-like lines of energy traced across its matte surface, pulsing with a low hum he could feel in his teeth.
"Magnificent," he said in an awed tone. However, his expression darkened. "Those bastards stole Father's design for storage."
Without entering, he returned to the computers, his fingers flying across the keyboard as he executed command after command.
The light inside the vault shifted from white to cyan. He knew what that meant—it was ready. For the next three minutes, he worked fast, rigging explosives around the vault's perimeter, wires snaking across the concrete like black vines.
Only then did he step inside. Without his life signature present, those charges would detonate within seconds.
He stood hunched before the black prism, his steady gaze burning into its pulsing surface. I either succeed or I die. No middle ground.
The biochip's owners would allow nothing less. And after leveling several of their key strongholds, he knew if they caught him alive, they would torture him to death.
He stood inches from the triangular prism, hand reaching out, and then his phone rang.
Aris froze. Who? Now?
He considered letting it ring out, but some instinct made him reach into his pocket. "Hello?" he said eyes never leaving the floating triangle.
"Aris Seldon." The voice on the other end was deep and calm, too calm. The composure of someone watching from a vantage point Aris couldn't see. "Son of a failed entrepreneur."
Aris's jaw tightened at the words and his hand stilled before the prism.
"High school dropout." The voice continued, smooth as silk. "Remarkable, really. Someone of your academic background... shaking the world like this."
Aris's eyes stayed locked on the chip. "Who are you?"
"I think you already know. So let's not waste time," the voice paused for a moment. "Bring me the chip. In return, I'll absolve your petty crimes. I'll even offer you work and authority. Someone with your talent shouldn't be buried. As the only child of my friend, it pains me to see you in this state."
Aris extended his paused hand toward the prism. "You think a few words can sway me?" He sounded almost bored. "Soon, I'll have the entire world by the throat. Soon, I'll come for you."
"Don't be hasty, son." The voice sharpened. "The chip won't save you, Aris. It will mark you. Every person with power will become your enemy."
Aris's eyes swept the pristine white walls of the vault. Hidden cameras. Of course. His oversight, even though he couldn't see them.
"It won't matter. By then, I'll be someone no one dares offend." He paused. "And I suppose they already know exactly where I am."
He dropped the phone to the vault floor.
"Trying to stall." He shook his head. "Who does he think I am?"
He placed his right hand on the triangular box. The moment his skin touched the surface, the box dissolved into black nanites, countless microscopic dark particles that move across his hand like ants trying to devour him.
They climbed over his arms, burrowing inward through his mouth, consuming his whole body within seconds. From the phone on the floor, the voice continued, indifferent to the silence.
"You could have worked with us. Could have been somebody." the tone of the voice seemed unhurried. "Now? Now you're just another corpse." There was a brief sigh. "Pity. Seldon's son is not as competent as I thought."
Aris couldn't turn toward the phone. He couldn't move at all. But his eyes found it anyway as the transformation surged upward, the nanites reaching his neck, their primary target for neural implantation.
The caller's words twisted in his gut like a blade. Then, the pristine white walls flashed a violent, pulsing red. The vault door slammed shut with a deafening thud.
Emergency override. Aris understood immediately. This wasn't in the vault's system core.
Even though he'd prepared for the worst, his heart seized. Dread washed over him, but he forced himself still. He was already merging. He could still feel hope. He could feel the nanites not as invaders, but as extensions of his own nerves.
His skin tingled. His eyes flickered with lines of raw code. For one terrible, glorious moment, he could see the data streams of the vault pulsing around him like walls he could almost touch.
Then the vault's walls blazed with blinding red. Within moments, all the oxygen vanished.
Suffocation seized him instantly, halting the transformation at its final threshold. He gasped, clawing at the thinning air, forcing it into his lungs even as he struggled to wield the biochip. Through the haze, a faint, acrid scent invaded his nostrils.
Chemicals. He wheezed, eyes bulging with dawning horror. Poisonous gas.
His head darted around, his blurring gaze finding the tiny vents, now visible with the chip's emerging clarity. Gas was seeping from the very openings he'd meticulously scouted, vents engineered to evade suspicion. He'd been so careful. So confident.
"Damn it." His voice cracked, the poison already searing his lungs. "No wonder the chairman didn't beg. He must have known."
His lungs seized. Each breath came shallow and ragged. His eyes burned, vision darkening, but he could still feel the nanites, relentless, still driving the biochip deeper into his brain.
His knees buckled. For a moment he hung there in the haze. Then he crumpled to the cold vault floor. And even as the darkness swallowed him, the nanites pressed on with their work. They didn't know. They didn't care.
Beyond the vault's supposedly impenetrable walls, the ring of explosives encircling it ticked down, triggered by the cessation of Aris's life signature.
Ten. Nine. Eight.
As the numbers fell, two helicopters sliced over the building's edge, their rotors thundering as they maneuvered into position. They never had the chance to stabilize.
A cataclysmic explosion shattered the rooftop—blinding yellow fire blooming outward, glass from a hundred windows raining down like diamonds. A compact mushroom cloud billowed toward the sky, its heat liquefying steel and stone. The top ten floors buckled and imploded, collapsing into a raging inferno.
The vault, designed to withstand fire, blast, and even time, was reduced to molten slag under the sheer weight of the explosives. Caught in the updraft, the two helicopters were swallowed whole, erupting into twin suns before they could even scream.
In another helicopter hovering at a safe distance, a man stared down. His knuckles whitened against the entrance frame, his eyes burning with impotent rage as he watched the cloud of fire consume everything. "Fucking crazy," he cursed, voice muffled by the thrum of rotors. "Fucking stupid."
His words dissolved into the hot waft, unheard by the dead Aris, not that he would have cared. The man already understood the consequences. Even if the triangular nanite casing had somehow endured the blast, the chip within could never survive exposure to open air.
The vault had been its shelter; a perfect, climate-controlled sanctuary. Now only ash remained of the lunatic. Smoke drifted over a city that would never know the magnificent future it had lost to the vengeance of one man.