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"Where'd you get that?" Reina's hand closed over mine before I could pocket the token.
I pulled back. "Off the ground."
"Bullshit." She stepped closer, close enough I could smell the gunpowder residue still on her jacket from morning drills. "Those are keyed. You can't just find one."
We were alone in the corridor outside the armory. Everyone else had scattered after I'd called end-of-day. The overhead lights buzzed. Reina's fingers were still wrapped around my wrist, and I could feel her pulse through the contact point. Fast. Too fast for someone asking a casual question.
"Let go," I said.
"Tell me where you got it."
"I said let go."
She did. Stepped back half a foot, eyes locked on mine. Reina Cross, top of her cohort, best tactical scores I'd seen in five years. Also the one name I'd been circling in my head since yesterday's loop, because someone this good doesn't get that good without secrets.
"You're scared," I said.
Her jaw tightened. "I'm cautious."
"Of a piece of plastic?"
"Of what it means." She glanced down the hall, then back at me. "How many loops?"
The air went thin.
I didn't move. Didn't blink. "What?"
"How many times have you done today?" Her voice dropped. "Because you've been looking at all of us like we're targets. You changed Danny's rotation. You moved Iris off sniper duty. And now you've got a token that shouldn't exist."
My hand went to the token in my pocket, but I didn't pull it out. "You're guessing."
"I'm right." She took another step forward. Close again. Close enough I could see the tiny scar above her left eyebrow, the one she'd never explained. "I've seen this before. Not here. Not you. But I've seen what it looks like when someone's trying to stop something that already happened."
I should've walked away. Should've locked her down, pulled her into an interrogation room, and made her explain every word. Instead I said, "Four."
Her breath hitched. "Four loops?"
"Four times I've watched twenty-seven kids die." I pulled the token out, held it up between us. "And every time, this thing shows up right before it happens."
Reina stared at the token. Then at me. "Where?"
"Different places. Last loop it was in the tactical range. Loop before that, someone left it in my quarters." I turned it over. The engraving caught the light. "You know what it opens?"
She hesitated. Then nodded.
"So tell me."
"The sub-level. Past the old archives." Her voice was quiet now. Steady. "There's a door down there. No one's supposed to go through it."
"Why not?"
"Because it's where they keep the off-book shit. Weapons. Contracts. Things the Board doesn't want audited."
"You've been down there."
It wasn't a question. She didn't treat it like one.
"Twice," she said. "Last year. They sent me to retrieve a file."
"They."
"My handler."
I went still. "Say that again."
Reina's hand moved to her side, where I knew she kept a knife strapped under her jacket. Not pulling it. Just touching it. A tell. "I'm Veil," she said. "Or I was. I don't know what I am now."
I should've drawn on her. Should've hit the panic rune on my belt and flooded the corridor with guards. Instead I said, "Keep talking."
"They recruited me three years ago. Said my family was in a detention camp. Said if I did what they asked, I could get them out." Her voice didn't shake. "I said yes."
"And?"
"And I've been feeding them intel ever since. Class rosters. Security rotations. Instructor profiles." She looked at me. "Yours."
My hand went to my sidearm. "You're the mole."
"I'm one of them." She didn't move. "There's two."
"Bullshit."
"Marcus, listen—"
"Don't." I drew. Pointed it at her chest. "Don't say my name like we're friends."
She didn't flinch. "If I wanted you dead, you'd be dead. I've had four loops to do it."
"You don't remember the loops."
"No. But someone does." She took a breath. "The precog on their side. Shadow. He's the one feeding moves to the mole. Every time you try something new, he sees it. Tells them. They adjust."
I kept the gun level. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because yesterday I got a message I wasn't supposed to see." Her hand moved, slow, into her jacket. I tensed. She pulled out a folded piece of paper. Held it out. "Read it."
I didn't lower the gun. Took the paper with my off hand. Unfolded it.
Three lines. Printed. No signature.
*Family transfer canceled. Targets liquidated 18 months prior. Proceed with final phase.*
I looked up. Reina's face was stone, but her eyes weren't.
"They lied," she said. "My family's been dead since before I started. And I've been killing people for nothing."
I should've felt something. Sympathy. Rage. Instead I felt cold. "Why tell me?"
"Because the second mole's going to detonate at 1900 hours. And if you don't trust me, you'll spend the next loop chasing me while they do it again."
The gun was heavy in my hand. "Who."
"I don't know yet."
"Bullshit."
"I don't." She stepped forward. The muzzle touched her sternum. She didn't stop. "But I know how to find out. That token. It's not random. Someone's leaving it for you."
"Who?"
"The other mole. They're playing both sides." Her hand came up, slow, and wrapped around the barrel. "They want you to find the door. They want you to see what's inside."
"Why?"
"I don't know. But if we go down there together, we'll—"
The world tore sideways.
No sound. Just pressure, like the air had been sucked out of the hall, and then a crack that rattled my teeth. Reina's hand snapped up, and a shimmering barrier flared between us and the far wall just as the explosion hit.
Fire. Smoke. The smell of burning insulation and cooked metal.
My ears rang. Reina was shouting something I couldn't hear. Her shield held, but cracks were spidering through it. I grabbed her arm, yanked her toward the stairwell. She moved with me. We hit the door together, slammed through, and I heard the barrier shatter behind us.
We took the stairs three at a time. My lungs burned. Reina was ahead of me, faster, and when we hit the next landing she stopped and turned.
"That wasn't 1900," she said.
"No shit."
"They moved it up." Her face was pale under the emergency lights. "They know you're changing things."
I checked my watch. 1824 hours. Thirty-six minutes early.
"Marcus." Her hand caught my shoulder. "If they moved the timeline, that means Shadow saw something. Something you're going to do."
"Then we stop him."
"You can't stop a precog. You can only—"
"I can stop the person he's talking to." I pushed past her, started down the next flight. "You said there's two moles. You're one. That means the other's—"
"Wait." She grabbed my wrist. Pulled me around. We were inches apart, her hand tight on my arm, her breath coming fast. "Don't save Danny."
I went cold. "What?"
"Next loop." Her eyes locked on mine. "Don't save Danny. He kills you."
"That's—"
"I'm serious." Her grip tightened. "1stroke 47 hours. You pull him out of the fire. He thanks you. And then he puts a knife in your throat."
I stared at her. "How do you know that?"
"Because I watched it happen." Her voice cracked. Just a little. "Last loop. I remembered. Just for a second. Long enough to see you die."
My pulse hammered in my ears. "You're lying."
"I'm not."
"You said you don't remember the loops."
"I don't. Except—" She stopped. Swallowed. "Except when someone I care about dies."
The stairwell was silent except for the distant wail of alarms.
I should've pulled away. Should've called her a liar and kept moving. Instead I said, "How many times have you remembered?"
She let go of my wrist. Stepped back. "Three."
"And?"
"And every time, you die trying to save him." Her voice was flat now. Empty. "So next loop, don't.", "tail_summary_cn": "Marcus在走廊遭遇Reina逼问黑色令牌来源，Reina自曝Veil卧底身份并声称其家人早已被杀、自己受骗三年。爆炸提前36分钟发生，Reina用护盾救下Marcus后在楼梯间警告他：下个循环不要救Danny，因为她在上一轮循环中短暂记起Marcus救Danny后反被Danny割喉杀死。Reina承认自己在