Chapter 39 · The Man Beyond the Crown

The flagship fell through the storm without making a sound.

That was the first lie.

Kellan heard the truth in the bones of the ship: the strained groan of armored ribs, the deep metallic shriek of engines burning against gravity, the pulse of something vast and awake beneath the decks. Every vibration traveled through the Crown fused along his spine and arrived in his skull as a command waiting to be obeyed.

Below them, the six cities hung inside the gas giant’s amber eye.

Their towers glimmered through the clouds like candles seen beneath dark water. Bridges of light connected the floating districts. Defense platforms rotated around them, their cannons already aligned—not toward the flagship, but toward one another.

A war without a battlefield. A massacre arranged in orbit.

“Give me the helm,” Sable said.

Her voice came through the neural chamber’s speakers, sharp enough to cut through the static. She stood behind the transparent partition, one hand pressed against the emergency seal. Blood ran from her nose and disappeared beneath her upper lip. The Crown’s feedback had painted blue veins across her throat.

Kellan did not look at her.