“She’s doing it from the hallway panel,” Nathan said, his voice tight.

“I can’t stop the air flow from in here.”

The progress bar reached sixty percent.

The air in the room was growing visibly thick, a grey haze beginning to swirl around the red emergency lights.

Sophie began to cough, a dry, raspy sound that made my chest tighten.

“Nathan,” I gasped, the air already tasting like bitter metal.

“We have to open the door, or they won’t survive the download.”

Nathan looked at his daughters, then at the green bar on the screen.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out the voice recorder he had taken from the safe.

He pressed the play button.

A soft, familiar voice filled the room, quiet but clear over the sound of the saw.

“Nathan, if you are hearing this, I am already gone,” Claire’s recorded voice said.

“But I did not leave you defenseless.”

“The master override doesn’t just copy the files.”

“It triggers the—”

The recording was cut off by a sudden, deafening screech of tearing metal.