CHAPTER SEVENTY —NOVA DOMICILE— The aroma of sizzling garlic and toasted spices drifted through the living quarters, a jarringly domestic scent in a fortress built to withstand the end of the world. Zane opened his eyes, his muscles instantly tightening as his instincts kicked in. The blinding headache from an hour ago had receded into a dull, rhythmic throb right behind his temples. He sat up slowly, swinging his legs off the edge of the reinforced bunk. The air in the room was cool, maintained by the automated climate control, but his skin still felt slick with a cold sweat. He walked out of the sleeping quarters and found Alina standing in the small, high-tech kitchenette built into the side wall of the living area. She was wearing an oversized sweater, her hair tied back casually as she stirred a pot on the electric range. Hearing his footsteps, she turned around, a warm, bright smile instantly lighting up her face. “You’re awake,” Alina said, her voice dripping with soft

CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO—NOVA DOMICILE—The superheated air from the underground flame-fences hit the freezing atmosphere outside, creating a massive wall of blinding white steam that instantly swallowed the northern breach.On Zane’s auxiliary monitor, two remaining camera feeds showed nothing but a swirling gray void, interspersed with the sudden, erratic thermal bursts of retreating bodies.“Zane... I can't breathe,” Alina whispered.She was trembling so violently that her teeth clicked together, her fingers practically tearing the fabric of her oversized sweater.The rhythmic thumping of gunfire against the lower exterior walls echoed through the floorboards, dull but heavy enough to vibrate right up into their boots.“The ventilation is fine, Alina. It’s closed-circuit,” Zane said, his voice dropping into a level, slow cadence meant to anchor her. He didn't look up from his trackball, manually resetting the tracking vectors on the last operational turret. “It’s just psychological. Ta