Connection Terminated Novels & Stories

--- Ethan’s form flickered. --- Fading. --- Pulling away. --- Choosing distance. --- Choosing isolation. --- Choosing to leave. --- And just before he disappeared completely— --- He spoke one last time. --- “I’ll come back.” --- A pause. --- “When it’s safe.” --- Then— --- He was gone. --- Completely. --- The connection didn’t snap. --- It didn’t shatter. --- It simply… --- Went quiet. --- The entity pulsed faintly beside her. --- Uncertain.

My wolf absolutely had to extract the unvarnished truth at this watch, or my spirit would permanently lose its alignment. Once the connection attempt went live, the frequency failed to produce Wesley’s standard greeting. Instead, the flat, automated notification of the valley's network provider drone filled the speaker. "Transmission failure. The specific terminal you are attempting to locate has been entirely disconnected from the grid. Please reinitiate your request during a later watch." I stared at the display, assuming my ears had misparsed the frequency. Wesley never, under any circumstances, authorized his terminal to drop from the network. His medical mantle required him to be access

Thirty seconds to feel every mistake I've made in the past three weeks pressing against my ribs like a second skeleton. I close the access attempt cleanly — that much works, at least. The intrusion won't register because it was never completed. No packet fragmentation left behind. No handshake remnants. The connection dissolves like it never existed, which is the only skill that has kept me alive in this work for the past decade.

When I had drawn them, my heart had been full of happiness. Now, only disappointment remained. I lingered for a moment, then typed a few words. 'Thank you, but I won't need this anymore.' The moment I sent the message, my phone rang. It was the chief editor I had been working with. "Ms. Blackwood, I'm very sorry to inform you that our collaboration has to be terminated. We can't disclose the specific reasons. We've simply found a more suitable candidate. My apologies." The call ended. The dull hum of the disconnected line filled my ear as I held the phone, my fingertips turning cold.

She says before taking my hand and leading me through the crowd where The General is waiting. “Mr. Rhodes, I apologize for not greeting you properly.” He says holding his hand out to me. I accept it and shake it firmly. “No need to apologize General, she can be very distracting.” “I could see that being true. Now about the program…” He goes on to tell me exactly what happened as he escorts us into the building. “Our people cut the connection as soon as it appeared and thankfully no information was taken but it’s worrisome.” He says.

The line went dead. ******

she whispered. The call disconnected.

"Matthew's probably running around like a rabid dog right now. First, we strip him bare." She kept muttering curses, but her typing never slowed. We holed up in a private room at a café, shutting the world out. I watched her tear through databases, code flying under her fingers. Lines of data zipped past until the screen froze on a registration page. "Nebula Studio," Donna read, her laugh sharp and cold. "Registered under some Dominic Barne. Total ghost. Fake ID. But the offshore trust account linked to it?" She swiveled the screen toward me. "That ring any bells?"