Lyra Nexus's Arc

Chapter 24 of 27

Two weapons still lay on the anvil. A spear of blue code and a great-sword of red. Lyra looked at them and did the count in her head. Seven of her crew were armed. Two were not. One of those two lay flat on the floor near the forge, still recovering. Drivers had powered the forge for every blade. She channeled her code into it until the last blade cooled, then dropped. She had not stood since. Now she pushed herself up on one arm, red code running slow across her skin. She watched Lyra without a word. Lyra lifted the great-sword. Red streams poured down the long blade. It was heavy, wider than her arm, dense with packed code. She carried it to Drivers and set the point on the floor. "You held the forge for eight blades," Lyra said. "You didn't stop. Even when it burned you out." She turned the hilt toward Drivers. "This one doesn't stop either. It runs on power that keeps coming. Like you." Drivers looked at the blade. She reached up and closed one hand around the grip. She pulled herself the rest of the way to her feet using the weapon as a brace. "I run every system I touch," Drivers said. She lifted the great-sword clear of the floor. Her arm shook once, then held. "This one runs on me. Good. (Better than being run by them.)" She swung it low and slow. The red blade cut a bright line through the air. Her legs steadied under her. "You can walk?" Lyra asked. "I can fight," Drivers said. "That's the part that matters." One weapon remained. The blue great-spear. Lyra had carried a spear from the start, a plain one that pierced virus armor. This one was more. The shaft ran with blue code, marked with numbers that shifted as she watched. The head split into forked prongs, sharp and glowing. She picked it up. It settled into her hands like it had been cut to fit them. She turned it once. The weight was right. Someone had reworked her weapon while she armed the others. "That's yours," Drivers said. "They built it to your grip." Lyra tested the point against the empty air. The forked head would bite deeper than her old spear. She was the one who led. She would be the one in front. The anvil was bare now. Eight programs. Eight weapons. No one walked into the fight unarmed. Lyra looked at her crew, each one holding steel forged from the world that hid them. "We're done here," Lyra said. She set the great-spear across her back. "We go hunt." Drivers hefted the red blade and moved to the front beside her. For the first time, the whole crew stood ready to leave the cube, they just had to find the way out.