In the heart of London – Surveillance at a glance…

A soft hum filled the air — the sound of reinforced shutters sealing over the windows. The glass office above them glowed faintly, like a command throne suspended over the data centre.
Then a figure stepped into view.
The Architect.
Silhouetted behind the glass, hands clasped behind his back, posture calm and almost regal.
His voice came through the room’s speakers — smooth, unhurried, as if he’d been waiting for this moment his entire life.
Emma aimed upward. “Show yourself properly, you coward.”
The Architect chuckled.
Jake stepped forward. “You’re destabilising half the world.”
Emma’s jaw tightened. “Why?”
The Architect finally moved, descending a staircase at the side of the glass office, emerging onto the data centre floor. He walked with the calm confidence of a man who believed he’d already won.
He stopped ten meters from them.
Close enough to see his face clearly for the first time.
Sharp features. Cold eyes. A mind that never stopped calculating.
Jake raised his weapon. “Hands where I can see them.”
The Architect didn’t move.
Emma froze. “Failsafe.”
The Architect nodded.
Jake’s voice was low. “Then why are you here?”
The Architect smiled.
He stepped closer.
Emma scoffed. “We know exactly what we’re fighting.”
The Architect shook his head.
Jake took a step forward. “You’re delusional.”
The Architect’s eyes sharpened.
He gestured to the servers.
Emma’s voice was ice. “You want anarchy.”
Jake raised his weapon again. “This ends now.”
The Architect tilted his head.
He pressed a button on a small device in his hand.
The floor beneath them vibrated.
Emma’s eyes widened. “Jake—”
Jake spun.
The server racks were shifting — sliding apart, revealing something beneath the floor.
A platform.
Rising.
And on it—
A second pulse generator.
Larger.
Active.
Emma whispered, “Oh my God…”
The Architect spread his arms.
Jake lunged forward.
The Architect pressed another button.
The floor panels snapped open.
A blast of air roared upward as a containment chamber activated, separating Jake and Emma with a rising wall of reinforced glass.
Emma slammed her fist against it. “Jake!”
Jake hit the glass from the other side. “Emma!”
The Architect stepped between them, perfectly centred, perfectly calm.
Jake glared at him. “Watch us.”
The Architect smiled.
He pressed the final command.
The pulse generator began to charge.
The lights dimmed.
The servers screamed.
And the countdown appeared on every screen:
00:05:00
Emma whispered, “Jake… we’ve got five minutes.”
Jake’s eyes locked on the Architect.
“No,” he said.
“We’ve got five minutes to end him.”
The countdown blazed across every screen in the data centre.
00:04:59
00:04:58
00:04:57
The pulse generator’s core glowed brighter, humming with a rising, bone‑deep vibration. The air crackled with static. The temperature dropped.
Jake slammed his shoulder against the rising glass barrier separating him from Emma. “Emma! Find a manual override!”
Emma scanned the wall panels. “He’s sealed everything. This isn’t glass — it’s ballistic polymer.”
The Architect stood between them, hands clasped behind his back, watching the countdown with serene detachment.
Jake raised his weapon. “I choose you.”
He fired.