Chapter 1

"You're kneeling because I told you to." Dax Calder's glove stays on my nerve. Black coat, flint eyes. He looks at me like I'm a bug in his system. "Mara Venn. Courier. You bled the core. Who paid you to break the Spire?"

"Nobody paid me, you prick." I twist to look up. "I was patching the leak before the district went dark."

"Try again." He leans in. Chest brushes my shoulder. Ozone and cold rain. Heat rolls off him and the sterile air goes tight. "Who gave you the override codes?"

"Check the logs." My voice shakes but I don't look away. "You'd see the seal was forged. Tribunal set me up. I was just fast enough to get caught."

"The Tribunal doesn't make mistakes." His thumb digs. My vision flickers. "You do."

"Then why's the core still humming?" I gasp. "If I'd blown it, the Spire would be a crater. It's not. It's waiting. You're too busy playing executioner to see the clock."

He stills. One second. Eyes flick to the blue-white pulse behind us, then back to me.

"You think you're clever," he says. Hand slides from neck to chin. Forces my face up. Palm hot. "Clever girls still die on the platform, Venn."

"I'm not just clever." My breath hits his. Inches apart. "I'm the only one who knows where the real seal is."

"Where?"

"Archives. Third layer. Meridian lock. But you won't find it licking Tribunal boots."

His eyes narrow. He doesn't let go. The air between us goes tight. I feel his pulse through the glove, fast, controlled.

Then he shoves me. Hard.

"Archives are sealed," he says. "You're about to be erased."

He flicks his fingers. Two greys clank forward. Grab my arms. Haul me up. I kick. Nothing.

They drag me to the center. The execution seal glows pale blue. Sick.

"Wait!" I scream. White robes line the walls, holo-masks hiding faces. "Look at the frequency! Core's spiking! You're not executing me — you're completing the circuit!"

"Quiet." Dax doesn't turn. Hands behind his back. "Sentence has been passed."

"You didn't even read the logs, did you?" I snap.

"Logs don't matter when the Tribunal's already decided," he says.

"You're a puppet!" I thrash as cuffs bite my wrists, lock me to the seal. "Just the blade they use to cut the truth out!"

"Maybe." He glances over his shoulder. "Blade still cuts."

"Then cut," I say. "And watch the city burn with me."

I spot it. Far wall. Small red blink. Manual override. Too far. I'm pinned.

"Do it," the lead official booms. "Clear the glitch."

Dax pulls the obsidian trigger. Matte. Built to kill me with one press.

"Any last words, Venn?" He says it like small talk.

"Yeah." I stare him down. "Hope you like the view when this place goes up."

He raises it.

The floor shudders.

A moan rips through the metal. The seal under my wrists snaps blue to screaming purple. The core roars. A shockwave blasts the guards off me like dolls.

I hit hard. Shoulder slams grating. Alarms scream. Death wail, not a drill.

"What the hell is that?" An official shrieks.

"I told you!" I scramble up, blood on my lip. "It's breaching! It's not sabotage — it's a trigger!"

Robes flutter. Officials run. Guards shout into comms. Dax doesn't move. Eyes on the core, then on me. Thrown. For the first time.

I dive. The forged seal — little gold cylinder they framed me with — skitters on the grating, humming purple.

I lunge. Grab it. Cold bite.

Crack.

Heat sears my arm. Bullet grazes, rips my jacket.

"Drop it!" Dax roars. Sidearm up. Aimed at my head.

"Get bent, Judge!" I clutch it and roll.

No way off. Walkways warped. Plasma venting left, eating floor to slag. Dax advancing right, slow, steady, gun between my eyes.

"Give me the seal, Mara." His voice cuts the sirens. "Now or I put a hole in your skull."

"Come take it." My heels hang off the edge.

"You think that list saves you?" he says.

"It proves you need me alive," I say.

He steps in. Reaches. The cylinder pulses — jolt up my arm — clicks open.

Inside isn't code.

It's a list. Names. Blood-red ink. Tribunal authorized.

Top name, under the High Judge's seal —

Dax Calder.

Not as arresting officer. As target.

I look up. Steel cold on my forehead. His breath hot on my cheek.

"Guess we work for the same boss, Judge," I whisper. Grinning. "He just put a hit on you."

"They're cleaning house," I say. "You, me, everyone who touched the Spire."

His finger tightens —

Click.

Not the gun. His comms.

"Judge Calder, you are relieved of duty." Ice on the channel. "Execute the suspect and remain in place for decommissioning."

Dax freezes. Eyes flick from the list to my face. Gun doesn't waver.

"Check the signature," I whisper. "It's not the High Judge."

"Then who?" he says.

"Who the hell signed my death warrant?"