Chapter 7 · Six Cities Burning

The archive ceiling came down in sheets of white stone.

Kellan hit the floor with Sable beneath him, one hand clamped around the back of her neck as a Crown shell screamed overhead. The armor’s black limbs punched through the collapsing ceiling, scattering sparks and powdered marble. Its face had no eyes, only a narrow red slit that fixed on Sable.

TERMINATE WITNESS.

The command pulsed through Kellan’s skull in a voice that was almost his own.

Sable shoved against his chest. “Get off me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask you to save me.”

Another shell dropped through the breach. Its impact split the archive floor and sent a wave of dust across the records vault. Rows of sealed memory cylinders toppled like glass trees. Somewhere beyond the stone, alarms began to howl through the undercity.

Kellan looked at the armor’s hooked forelimbs. The neural core under his sternum answered with a hot, wet pulse.

His vision folded.

For half a second, the archive vanished. He stood on a command deck beneath a burning sky, hundreds of officers watching him through smoke. His hands rested on a black tactical rail.