Wade stood alone on the roof of Garrett Automotive at 4:47 a.m., the hour when even the merged city seemed to hold its breath, a fragile, false peace before the coming storm. The air was cold, tasting of ozone and the metallic tang of the river portal below. It churned like molten glass mixed with liquid nitrogen, a beautiful, terrible promise of annihilation.
Above him, the containment lattice waited in its reinforced case, glowing soft and steady, the way Laken's eyes had glowed when she kissed Reed in the vault like the world was already won—a hope that felt like a lie Wade could no longer afford to carry.
His hands shook as he opened the small tin box he'd carried since the opera house rooftop. The hinges groaned, a sound of finality in the oppressive silence. Inside, nestled on a b
