"Then what do we do?" Morgan demands, wrestling with the yoke as the submersible pitches violently. "We can't shoot a digital network!"
"We don't shoot it," Elara says, opening her eyes. They are entirely silver, swirling with complex, non-Euclidean shapes. "We guide him. The Prime Node is a perfect mathematical equation. It can't process a paradox. Asher is the paradox. But he’s drowning in the math. He needs to find the flaw."
Elara presses her hands harder against the bulkhead, closing her eyes again. Through the physical tether of the neural-jack cable running from the submersible to the ocean floor, she pushes her consciousness down into the abyss.
She doesn't use magic. She uses her innate, biological understanding of structure. She feels the massive, pulsing brain of liquid metal
