Apocalypse Trade Monopoly
Chapter 143: : Return to the Quiet

Chapter 143: : Return to the Quiet

The transition out of the Mindspace wasn’t as jarring this time—no static recoil, no mental drag. Just the soft flicker of lights resetting, as if the world outside had politely waited for them to finish having their minds blown.

The manor’s sub-garage came into view first. Still dim. Still humming with quiet electricity.

Ava stepped off the sync plate first, boots landing with a gentle thud.

Lucas followed a breath behind.

Neither of them said anything right away.

Her system pinged softly in the background.

[NEURAL LOAD STABLE][EMOTIONAL SUPPRESSION: ADAPTIVE MODE]

[NEW OBJECTIVE: INTEGRATE SCHEMATIC — R-0 CORE (GEN ZERO)]

But Ava dismissed the alert with a flick of her wrist.

For once, even she didn’t care about the next build.

Not yet.

They moved together, shoulder to shoulder, through the long hallway under the manor. Every light that flicked on above them seemed too calm, too clean—like the building didn’t know yet what the rest of the world was planning.

It made Ava uneasy.

As they passed the garage’s edge, Ren popped his head up from a panel of wires and grunted.

"You’re back."

Lucas didn’t stop walking. "Unfortunately."

Ren squinted. "You look like you read something nasty."

Lucas paused, just for a second. "Worse. I read something lawyered."

Ren flinched like he’d been slapped. "Damn. That bad?"

"Worse."

They kept walking.

William met them at the base of the central staircase. Impeccably dressed, as usual, but his eyes narrowed the moment he saw Lucas’s expression.

"Something happened."

Ava followed Lucas into the hall.

The second the parlor doors shut behind them, Lucas dropped into one of the long couches like gravity had changed.

Ava stood.

She didn’t sit. Not yet.

"You need to tell them," she said.

Lucas rubbed the side of his jaw.

"I know."

Ava started pacing.

"Seventy-two hours," she muttered. "Personal systems will be forcibly migrated. All syncs get rerouted through the Collective Cloud. They’re dismantling every network—military exemptions only."

"And corporate," Lucas added.

Ava spun. "Yeah, right. They’re gonna eat the whole market in one bite."

Lucas let out a long, thin breath.

Then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, hands folded.

But his thoughts were somewhere else.

Somewhere behind his eyes, deeper than the room around them.

Ava could see it—he wasn’t just thinking. He was pivoting.

"There’s no one name on it," he said quietly. "No villain with a grin. Just a signature block signed by a board of numbers and titles. All military."

William raised an eyebrow. "No face?"

"Worse," Lucas muttered. "No ego. There is no one to appeal. Just a policy. Something faceless enough to execute a plan without ever admitting it was war."

He exhaled slowly, a sound like pressure bleeding from a sealed vault.

"They’re not trying to win anything," he added. "They’re just closing all the doors. Turning the system into one big lock."

Ava sat across from him, silent for a moment. She watched the shift in him—not panic, not defeat.

Strategy. Rewriting itself in real time.

"I thought I knew where this was going," Lucas said, still quiet. "I had a dozen plans. I was even arrogant enough to think they lined up with my father’s. Turns out—"

He sat back slightly, hands steepling under his chin.

"Turns out he was building walls to keep the world out," he said. "I was building tunnels to run beneath it."

Ava’s voice was low. "And now?"

Lucas stared straight ahead, golden eyes unreadable.

"Now I need to flood it."

William cleared his throat. "You don’t seem surprised."

"I’m not," Lucas admitted. "I’m just disappointed that I believed I had time."

He turned his gaze to Ava.

"That’s gone. We build now. In the dark. Under their radar. Against the board—not for territory or rank—but for sovereignty."

Ava nodded once, no hesitation.

Lucas didn’t speak right away.

Instead, he reached into his coat—one of the inner folds near his spine, the place Ava now knew he hid real things—and pulled out a small, matte case. Flat black. Triple-sealed.

He set it on the table between them with quiet finality.

William stepped forward instinctively. "That’s not—"

Lucas popped the seals. The lid hissed open.

Inside sat five raw energy cores.

Each one gleamed faintly red, their glow pulsing slow and heavy, like restrained heartbeats waiting to detonate.

Unrefined.

Unstable.

Illegal in every known jurisdiction.

And exactly what they needed.

"We force the upgrades," Lucas said simply. "Now. While we still can."

Ava’s eyes narrowed. "You want to spike the system before they lock it."

"If we’re stronger than the Collective baseline," Lucas said, voice calm, "then even when they push for integration, we’ll trigger incompatibility flags. It’s a legal paradox. If they can’t subsume us without destroying us, they’ll delay enforcement on our cases."

William shook his head. "That’s a theory, not protection."

Lucas looked at him. Steady. Cold.

"Everything we’ve ever done is a theory."

Ava leaned forward. Her fingers hovered over the cores.

"This is wild," she said. "If we eat these raw, we don’t just spike strength—we risk fragmenting our minds."

Lucas met her gaze. "You can process more than I can. Your system’s cleaner and has the authority to override. Adaptive. You’ll stabilize."

"And if I don’t?"

"We cross that bridge when I haul your screaming body into a cryo tank."

William’s voice cut sharp. "This is madness."

Lucas didn’t argue.

He just handed Ava the case.

Ava stared at the cores.

Three seconds passed.

Then she pulled three into her hand. Fingers closing tight.

"Crazy," she muttered, "is exactly what they won’t see coming."

And then—

She crushed them.

One by one.

The first pulsed red—heatless and full of friction. Her body jolted. Her bracer flared.

The second hit harder. Ava grit her teeth, her pupils dilating wide. Her fingertips sparked faint arcs of static. Her system buckled—then caught itself.

The third?

The third made her scream.

Not loud.

But sharp. Low. Like her ribs cracked and rebuilt in a heartbeat.

Her knees hit the floor—but only for a second.

She stood again, shaking.

Sweating.

But her eyes were glowing.

And when she looked up, her system whispered like thunder.

[SYSTEM CORE UPGRADE COMPLETE][UNIQUE ADAPTIVE MODIFIER INSTALLED][SYNC OVERRIDE TOLERANCE: 300%][YOU CANNOT BE COLLECTIVIZED]

Ava straightened, breathing fast.

"I think that worked; and it wasn’t even that painful."

Lucas grinned.

William just closed his eyes and muttered, "You both need parental supervision."

"Too late," Ava said, her voice still crackling faintly with static.

She flexed her fingers. Her bracer glowed—brighter, deeper than before. Her veins shimmered faintly beneath her skin, like her blood had gone semi-luminous.

Lucas watched her carefully. His eyes didn’t miss the way her stance had changed. How her balance shifted effortlessly, subtly—like the ground bent a little closer to her heels now.

"You’re stabilizing fast," he said.

Ava nodded once, still breathing hard. "Feels like fire. But contained."

William didn’t move. "How contained?"

"Contained enough," she said, meeting his eyes. "I’m not hallucinating or trying to eat the walls, so I’d say we’re ahead of schedule."

Lucas cracked a rare smile. "Good."

He reached into the case and picked up the remaining two cores—one in each hand.

William stepped forward sharply. "Lucas."

"I know," Lucas said.

"You don’t process wild cores the way she does. Your system’s always been—"

"Unforgiving," Lucas finished. "I’m aware."

He looked at Ava.

She looked back.

"No speech?" she asked, voice dry.

"Just a warning," he said. "If I start bleeding gold again, knock me out."

"Copy that."

And then—

He bit into one core.

There was no dramatic flourish.

Just a sharp intake of breath.

Then a groan—low, deep, dragged out of him like something ancient waking up in his bones.

His knees hit the floor.

His body went rigid.

And then the glow hit.

It wasn’t red.

It was white.

Searing. Slicing. The kind of light that erased shadows instead of casting them.

Lucas threw his head back, teeth gritted, hands shaking as his bracer tried—tried—to contain what the core was doing to him.

Ava stepped forward, one hand raised to her interface.

[LUCAS BAI — SYSTEM STABILITY: 38%][NEURAL MAP: OVERCLOCKED][REJECTION THRESHOLD: SURGE IMMINENT]

"Lucas," she said sharply.

He didn’t answer.

He was glowing so hard now she couldn’t see his pupils.

"William—"

"Already ready," the butler said, drawing a stabilizer syringe from his coat. "You get five more seconds."

Lucas slammed the second core into his palm.

Ava lunged. "Don’t—!"

Too late.

The light exploded.

The room shook.

Her system went white for a full second.

And then—

Silence.

Lucas knelt on the ground.

Still.

His breathing was slow.

Measured.

When he looked up, his eyes weren’t gold anymore.

They were almost clear.

And then they settled—burning like white fire tinged with gold at the edges.

"I’m fine," he rasped.

Ava didn’t believe him for a second.

But her system pinged a confirmation:

[USER: LUCAS BAI – CORE INTEGRATION COMPLETE][SYSTEM STATUS: GHOST-CLASS ANCHOR ESTABLISHED][UNIQUE MODIFIER DETECTED: DATA OVERRIDE – TYPE UNKNOWN]

He stood slowly. The glow faded. His hands were steady now. Looking so proud of himself with William doing an uncomfortable face.