Evan was an old man again. He was sixty years old, gasping for air, stuck in an infinite hallway. But he still had the anchor shard. And he still had the Noise.Evan stopped running. He stopped trying to reach his father. He sat down on the glass floor."What are you doing?" Arthur frowned. The infinite hallway began to shrink.Evan looked at the rusted iron shard in his hand. He looked at the millions of souls inside his own chest."You think you own the time, Dad," Evan said. His voice was the voice of a man who had seen too much. "But you only own the measure of it. You own the seconds. You own the minutes."Evan raised the shard. "But you don't own the weight."Evan didn't use the Spark to move. He used the Debt. He reached out to the Ark above. He reached out to the golden ship that held the stolen time of a billion people. "I call the interest!" Evan roared.He didn't pull the energy into himself. He pulled the Ark down. He used his infinity balance not as a battery, but as a M

Evan pulled his hand back. He felt a wave of nausea. He would rather starve than eat the seconds of the South District."You should eat, Evan. You look like a ghost." The voice came from the far side of the room.Evan spun around. He reached for a weapon, but he had nothing.Sitting in a soft, velvet chair in the corner was a girl. She looked young, maybe twelve years old. She had long, golden hair tied in braids. She wore a simple white dress. She was holding a small wooden doll in her hands.[SUBJECT: CLARA][IDENTITY: SUBJECT 05][STATUS: STABLE]"Subject 05?" Evan asked. He stayed near the table, his eyes narrow. "The next brother? No... the next sister?"The girl looked up. Her eyes were not brown or blue. They were a bright, electric green. They looked like the acid from the pit."I am the latest model," Clara said. Her voice was flat. It didn't have any feelings in it. It sounded like a computer reading a book. "The Architect said you were the most successful, but I am the most

The top of the High Spire was a place of terrible beauty. There was no roof here, only the open sky. The stars were not white points of light; they were sharp, violet needles that seemed to prick the skin of the world. The wind did not blow; it screamed, carrying the cold taste of frozen electricity.Evan stood in the center of the "Apex Circle." The floor was a single, massive sheet of black glass. Beneath the glass, millions of golden gears turned and clicked. Clank. Whirrr. Clank.It was the heart of the Bank. It was the machine that decided who lived and who died.Evan looked at his hands. They were steady, but the skin was so pale it was almost clear. He could see the purple fire of the Spark flowing through his veins like glowing ink. His heart-plug, the white gear in his chest, was humming a low, angry song. He felt the weight of the infinity balance on his wrist. It was a heavy, dark pressure that made his arm feel like it was made of lead.Across the circle, the VIP boxes

[BALANCE: 1,000 YEARS][BALANCE: 50 YEARS][BALANCE: 10 SECONDS]He was hitting zero. But then, he felt a vibration. Not in his chest. In his pocket. He reached a shaking hand into his jacket. He pulled out the silver coin.Marco’s coin.It wasn't glowing. It didn't have code on it. But on the side of the coin, Evan saw a tiny inscription he had never noticed before. “The House has a back door. Use the debt.”Evan looked at the infinity sign on his wrist. It was almost gone. But the Debt was still there.The one soul he owed to the Bank of Souls. The collector in the black suit.Evan realized the truth.The Bank of Time and the Bank of Souls were not the same. They were rivals. One wanted the seconds. The other wanted the heart.“If I can't pay the Bank of Time,” Evan thought, “maybe I can pay the other one.”Evan closed his eyes. He didn't call the Spark. He called the Collector. "I'm ready," Evan whispered. "I'm ready to pay my debt."Suddenly, the white light of the Spire turned a

The black glass floor felt like frozen water beneath Evan’s boots. It was too smooth. It was too perfect. Every time he shifted his weight, the surface groaned. High above, the floating ruins of the High Spire were still stuck in time, a graveyard of gold and stone hanging in a sky that had no sun.In front of him, the Executor stood waiting. The giant cyborg was no longer just a machine. It was a monster of meat and metal, powered by the red core in its chest that pulsed like a heavy, dying heart. Its hydraulic arm hissed, releasing a cloud of white steam. The spinning drill on its other arm had slowed down, but it still made a low, hungry growl. Vrrr. Vrrr. Vrrr.Julian Vox stood to the side, his silver liquid skin rippling. His violet clock-eyes were fixed on the black silk bag in his hand. He reached in and pulled out a single coin.It was different from the others. It was not white light. It was not silver. It was a deep, burning crimson. It looked like a drop of blood shaped