Lyra lifted a brow. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”“It evaluates motives,” he said. “Yours line up with mine. For now.”She gave a small shrug. “Self-preservation is a powerful motivator.”He studied her for a long second.It was a deal with a devil.But this devil needed him alive.“Show me the vault access,” Ronan said at last. “Then we talk about your precious research facility.”Lyra’s smile sharpened. Hungry. Almost pleased.“I was hoping you’d say that.”She reached to her belt and pulled out a slim, flat device. It looked simple, but the metal frame was high-grade custom built.She tapped the surface.A three-dimensional map burst into the air between them.The ruined station filled with faint blue light as a hologram of a massive tower rotated slowly.“The Obsidian Spire,” she said.Ronan looked at it carefully.“Sixty-seven floors above ground,” Lyra continued. “Twelve below. Every level layered with defensive formations. Motion sensors. Aura scanners. Rotating guard te

The journey back to the Deep Roots was a blur. Tunnels, shadows, echoing footsteps. His mind raced over every detail the code, the timing, the vault, the escape. The weight of it pressed on him, and yet he moved with purpose.Arbor and Valerius were waiting when he stepped into the cavern. They watched his face, saw the calculation and tension in his eyes, and exchanged another of their silent, centuries-old glances.“It’s done,” Ronan said. “She’s in. The plan is set.”“But?” Arbor prompted, one eyebrow raised.“But nothing,” Ronan said. He paused, letting the words settle. “It’s solid. Too solid. She gave me everything access, timing, codes. It’s almost like she wants me to succeed.”Valerius frowned. “You think it’s a trap?”“I think she’s playing a deeper game than she’s showing,” Ronan said. “But the core is real. The chance is real. I can’t wait for perfect certainty.”Arbor nodded slowly. “Wise. In war, certainty is a luxury only the dead enjoy. You move with what you have.”

The Titan was a mountain of flesh and metal.It rose from the shattered courtyard, stone and earth sliding from its massive frame. Thirty feet tall, built like a deformed giant, its skin a patchwork of organic tissue and chrome plating. Its face if it could be called a face was a fused mass of human features and machine components, with three glowing red eyes stacked vertically where a nose should be. Each arm ended in a cluster of whirring drills and crackling energy projectors.It took a step. The building shook."MEET MY FIRSTBORN," the Cognate purred from its projection. "IMPERFECT. UNSTABLE. BUT... POWERFUL."Ronan shoved Lyra behind him. "Get to the tunnel. Now.""I'm not leaving you to face that""You're leaving because you'll slow me down." His voice was steel. "Go. I'll find you."She hesitated one second, then ran.The Titan's three red eyes tracked her movement. One of its drill arms began to whir, aiming at her fleeing form.Ronan moved.He crossed the distance in a blur,

Dawn painted the ruined city in shades of blood and gold.Ronan sat on a chunk of fallen concrete, watching the sun climb over the Obsidian Spire. The tower loomed in the distance, a black finger pointing accusingly at the sky. Somewhere inside, Arbor and Valerius waited in darkness.Lyra approached, two steaming cups in her hands. Real coffee a luxury in the post Revival world. She handed one to Ronan without speaking and sat beside him.He took it, the warmth seeping through his cracked, blood crusted fingers. "Where'd you find this?""Scavenger stash in the sub basement. Pre Revival, vacuum sealed. Still good." She sipped her own, wincing as it touched a cut on her lip. "The Grafted are tending to the wounded. We lost seven. Killed twenty three Obsidian enforcers."Numbers. Always numbers. Ronan was tired of numbers."Theron?""Restoring. He used a lot of his essence holding the line." She glanced at him. "He did it for you. They all did."Ronan said nothing. The coffee was bitte

"Part of it." He winced as the healer's wooden fingers probed a deep cut. "Arbor? Valerius?""Alive. Weak, but alive. The Patriarch drained them both, but they're Anchors they'll recover. Eventually.""And Silas?"Lyra's expression flickered. "We don't know. His warehouse was empty when we sent scouts. No bodies, no blood, no sign of him. He either escaped or..."Or the Obsidians took him. Ronan didn't finish the thought.Theron approached, his wooden face troubled. "The Obsidian Line is regrouping. The Patriarch survived the facility collapse his Aura signature is still strong. And Kaelen has been named heir apparent."Lyra's jaw tightened. "Of course. My father's favorite failure.""There is more. The Cognate's destruction sent a pulse through the network. The upstate facility they felt it. They know. And they are accelerating production."Ronan closed his eyes. The war wasn't over. It was barely beginning."What do we have?" he asked. "Forces? Supplies? Allies?"Lyra ticked off o