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The Black Archive wasn't a prison. It was a corpse factory.
Rowan pressed against the outer wall, Mara beside him, both of them staring at the convoy stopped fifty yards ahead. Three cages on wheels. No guards in sight. Just that low hum coming from underground, like a furnace waiting to be fed.
The mark on his wrist itched. Not the usual burn. This was different. Hungry.
"They're already inside," Mara said. Her voice was flat, but her hand was white-knuckled on her blade hilt. "If he's in one of those cages—"
"He is." Rowan didn't know how he knew. The Ledger knew. It always knew where the bodies were.
The mark pulsed. A new line of text crawled across his skin, cold and sharp:
*UPGRADE AVAILABLE: HARVEST PROTOCOL. COST: 1 WITNESS.*
Rowan's stomach dropped. "No."
"What?" Mara turned.
"It wants me to kill him." He showed her his wrist. The text glowed faint red in the pre-dawn gloom. "That's the price. One witness. It'll give me something in return."
Mara went still. "What kind of something?"
"Does it matter?" Rowan pulled his wrist back, covered it with his sleeve. "I'm not doing it."
"I wasn't asking you to." But her eyes lingered on his arm. Calculating. He'd seen that look on officers before. The ones who sent other people to die so the mission stayed clean.
"Let's move," he said, and didn't wait for her to agree.
They crossed the open ground fast and low. No one stopped them. No one was watching. That was wrong. A convoy this valuable should've had a dozen guards, watchers on the rooftops, dogs.
Rowan reached the first cage. Empty. The lock was open, door swinging.
Second cage: same.
Third cage: a man, slumped against the bars, wrists chained to the floor. Blood on his temple. Shallow breathing.
"Kael." Mara was beside the cage before Rowan could stop her. Her hands wrapped around the bars, shaking them. "Kael, wake up."
The man didn't move.
Rowan knelt by the lock. Standard mil-grade, three pins. He'd cracked worse in training sims. But his hands were shaking, and the Ledger mark was burning now, text scrolling faster:
*HARVEST AVAILABLE. CONFIRM UPGRADE?*
"Shut up," Rowan muttered.
"What?"
"Not you." He pulled a thin piece of wire from his belt, started working the lock. The first pin clicked. Second pin stuck.
"Faster," Mara hissed.
Rowan ignored her. Third pin—there. The lock opened. He yanked the cage door, and it swung wide with a rusty scream.
Mara was inside in half a heartbeat, crouched by her brother, hands on his face. "Kael. Kael, look at me."
Kael's eyes fluttered. Didn't open.
The chains were bolted to the floor. Rowan grabbed one, pulled. It didn't budge.
*HARVEST HIM. COST: 1 WITNESS. REWARD: CHAIN BREAKER PROTOCOL.*
The Ledger was offering him exactly what he needed. One body for the skill to snap these chains like thread.
Rowan looked at Kael. Looked at Mara.
"Get back," he said.
Mara's head snapped up. "What are you—"
Rowan grabbed the chain with both hands and pulled.
Nothing.
He reset his grip, planted his feet, and pulled again. The bolt groaned. His shoulders screamed. The mark on his wrist flared hot, text burning across his vision:
*CONFIRM UPGRADE. HARVEST AVAILABLE.*
"No," Rowan said through his teeth, and pulled harder.
The bolt snapped.
Rowan fell back, chain in his hands, breath ragged. His wrist was on fire. The text flickered, angry now:
*INEFFICIENT. UPGRADE REFUSED.*
He didn't care. He tossed the chain aside and reached for the second bolt.
Mara stared at him. "You just—"
"Not now." He wrapped both hands around the second chain. This one was deeper, threads buried in the stone floor. He pulled. The bolt didn't move.
He pulled again. His hands were slick with sweat. The chain cut into his palms.
*LAST CHANCE. CONFIRM UPGRADE.*
"Go to hell," Rowan said, and threw his whole weight back.
The bolt tore free. Stone chips scattered. Rowan landed hard on his back, chain still in his grip.
Mara caught her brother as he slumped forward. "I've got you. I've got you."
Rowan sat up, chest heaving. His wrist had gone dark. The text was gone. Just the black mark, silent and cold.
He'd won. For now.
"We need to move," Mara said. She had Kael's arm over her shoulder, trying to lift him. He was dead weight, head lolling.
"Wait." Rowan stood, moved closer. Kael's eyes were half-open now, unfocused. His lips moved.
"What's he saying?" Rowan leaned in.
"...protocol..." Kael's voice was barely a whisper. "...Penn... built it..."
"Who built what?" Mara shook him gently. "Kael, stay with me. Who's Penn?"
"Ilya Penn." Kael's eyes locked on Rowan, sudden and sharp. "She built the first protocol. The Ledger. It was hers."
Rowan went cold.
"Where is she?" Mara demanded. "Kael, where—"
Kael's eyes rolled back. He went limp.
"No, no, no." Mara lowered him to the ground, checked his pulse. "He's breathing. Just unconscious."
Rowan wasn't listening. He was staring at his wrist. The mark had changed. A new name burned into the black band, small and precise:
*ILYA PENN: ARCHITECT.*
The Ledger knew her. It had always known.
"Rowan." Mara's voice was sharp. "Help me lift him."
He blinked, shook himself, and moved. Together they got Kael upright, one arm over each of their shoulders.
"We need to find her," Rowan said as they started moving, dragging Kael between them. "If she built this thing—"
"Then she can tell us how to break it." Mara's jaw was set. "Or how to turn it on whoever's running this war."
Rowan's wrist burned again. Not text this time. Just heat. A warning.
The Ledger didn't want them finding Ilya Penn.
Which meant they were going in the right direction.
Behind them, the hum from underground grew louder. Something was waking up. Something big.
And they were out of time.