Chapter 12 · The Core Wears His Face

The lights didn't come back.

Elara heard Kane's breath catch, felt the gun barrel shift away from her temple. The black token in her palm went silent mid-scream, its surface cooling so fast it burned.

"Show yourself." Kane's voice cut through the dark. "Now."

A laugh came from everywhere at once. Not an echo—more like the sound was being played through a dozen hidden speakers, all slightly out of sync. "I've been showing myself for eleven resets, Investigator. You keep shooting the wrong person."

Elara's eyes adjusted enough to make out shapes. The train car's interior lights were dead, but something else was glowing now. Pale blue lines traced across the platform floor, spreading like cracks in ice. They pulsed in rhythm with her heartbeat.

No. Not her heartbeat. The city's.

"Silas." Nora's voice was flat. She stood at the far end of the platform, one hand pressed against the tunnel wall. "It's Silas Morn. I can feel his signature all over the grid."

The glow intensified. A figure stepped out of the train car—not through the door, through the wall itself, like the metal was just a suggestion.