"Move!" Dax roared, shoving my father toward the stolen SUV. "The ceiling is coming down!"
But the loading dock wasn't empty anymore.
Standing between us and the exit was a nightmare of chrome and hydraulics. A Titan-Sentinel.
It was twelve feet tall, a bipedal tank with a rotary cannon for an arm. In the original timeline, this thing had killed three of our best riders. It had taken us six chapters to figure out how to scratch its paint.
My father froze, staring up at the machine he had helped design. "It's online... Oh god, it's online."
The Titan’s mono-eye flashed red. Its cannon spun up with a terrifying whine.
"Target Acquired," the synthesized voice boomed. "Threat Level: Extremis."
Dax didn't slow down. He didn't take cover. He kept walking toward the twelve-foot death machi
