Jackson's question hung in the air, urgent and demanding. Everyone turned to Miles, waiting for the answer that would save them.Miles opened his mouth, then closed it. His face, already pale from his vision, grew even whiter. "I don't know," he admitted. "The vision showed me the Engine, the merger, the darkness that Vaughan has become. But the failsafe, the way to stop it, that knowledge wasn't clear. It was... fragmented. Like trying to read a book with half the pages torn out."Jackson's shoulders tensed. He had hoped, they had all hoped—that Miles would have the answer. That there would be a clear path forward. Something they could fight, something they could use."Then we need to find it," he said. "Someone must know. There has to be something."Samantha stepped forward, her face pale but resolute. "My father kept everything. Every note, every calculation, every failure. If the failsafe exists, it will be in his files."Sophia, who had been silent until now, spoke up. Her voice

Whitaker moved through the chaos like a man possessed, his pistol barking, his movements precise and economical. He had been in firefights before, more than he could count. But nothing had prepared him for this. Vaughan's followers didn't fight like men. They moved with a single purpose, their eyes fixed on the elevators, on the stairs, on the path to the Harts.Beside him, Evans fired methodically, each shot finding its mark. Copper stood at the front, his shotgun roaring, his face a mask of grim determination. The operatives Whitaker had brought—his people, his responsibility—held the line. They were good. They were brave.But that didn't erase the fact that they were dying.One of them screamed, a sound cut short by a blade that gleamed with the same unholy light as their master. Another crumpled, a hole burned through his chest. Whitaker saw them fall, saw their blood pool on the marble floor, and felt something cold settle in his chest.He raised his pistol to fire again—and som

Copper pressed the badge back into Evans's palm. "You want to know what you are, Evans? You're a man who carried his friend up three flights of stairs while people were shooting at him. You're a man who stood in that lobby and held the line when everyone else was running. You're a man who has given everything for people who can't give anything back."He stepped back, his face softening. "That badge doesn't define you. You define it."Evans looked down at the badge in his hand. It was just a piece of metal. Copper was right. It had always been just a piece of metal. But the things he had done while wearing it—the people he had saved, the friends he had made, the battles he had fought—those were real. Those mattered.He slipped the badge back into his pocket and looked at Copper. "Thank you."Copper shrugged. "Don't thank me. Just get your head in the game. Jackson and the others are still in there. They need us."Evans nodded. He looked at Whitaker, at Lorraine sitting beside him, her

Evans's body crumpled to the floor, his head striking the marble with a sickening crack. Vaughan tossed him aside like a broken doll, already turning back to the Harts, his burning eyes dismissing the fallen man as irrelevant.He hadn't meant to involve anyone else in his revenge against Jackson. But since Evans decided to try and stop him, he got what he deserved."Now," Vaughan said turning to Jackson and the others, "where were we?"From the doorway, a scream.Lorraine stood frozen, her hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes fixed on Evans's still form. She had followed the sounds of battle, had left Whitaker's side against his protests, had needed to see—to know—if the man she loved was still alive.And now she was looking at him, crumpled on the floor, his face pale, his chest barely moving."Evans!" She started toward him, but a hand caught her arm.Copper.He stood in the doorway behind her, his face a mask of fury, a shotgun in each hand. He had heard the scream, had come runnin

The voice came again, stronger this time, cutting through the chaos like a blade of light in the darkness."We're not done yet!"Andrew's hands clenched into fists. He could hear it now—not just Jackson's voice, but Jacqueline's, Celestine's, Sophia's. They were together. They were fighting. They were alive.Ruth rose from her chair, her hands pressed to her chest, tears streaming down her face. "My son," she whispered. "My children."Above them, the battle raged on.**In the great hall, the four Harts rose from the rubble.Jackson pulled himself to his feet, his hand finding Jacqueline's. Celestine was beside them, her face pale but her eyes blazing. Sophia stood behind them, her hands on their shoulders, her light joining theirs.Their bond blazed brighter than it ever had before.Vaughan took a step back.His form flickered, the light of Primis warring with something else—something that might have been fear. "What are you doing?" His voice cracked, the chorus of echoes faltering.