4.04: Touched by a virus.

[nofileext]

The task that Daemon lays out for Mouse and YT is simple enough: allow the Word to spread to its fullest extent. To that end, YT is sent off into the 'Net carrying a list of IP addresses and a copy of Mouse's encryption codes.

One by one, YT visits the systems Mouse has firewalled off. One by one, the firewalls drop, allowing the Word to spread to the systems beyond them.

Soon, only one firewall remains.

This one is special. What lies within this system is too important to be entrusted to an underling. There have been too many false starts already.

Surrounded by a fleet of Guardian transports, Daemon and her new entourage fly toward System Mainframe.

Comments

[command_dot_com]

And that fierce, look that says someone's going to be deleted today is back. "Single source, multiple targets. It'll blow her code to the far corners of the Net."

[mendanddefend_archive]

"But everyone will still be infected!"

[command_dot_com]

"Without Daemon's control the 'Net may recover!"

[mendanddefend_archive]

May recover? Can they really afford to gamble on that at this point?

"This is thin, Dot."

[command_dot_com]

"This is all I've got."

She turns to look up at the sky. Above the firewall ripples, then flares outward expanding before disappearing... And revealing a hole in the sky where the entire Guardian Armada had laid waiting in the Net.

They're out of time. Dot speaks into the microphone on her headset, expression grim. "Fleet commanders, this is it. Blow the Guardian armada out of the sky as it enters our airspace."

She looks up again as guns mounted on hundreds of ABC turrets turn and aim towards the hole in the sky. User have mercy.