The lull following the Ghost Fever's steady advance was the most terrifying sound Reuben had ever heard. It was the silence of the world holding its breath while waiting for the fall of the axe. The Oracle's map was a smattering of dead stars, each red dot a life already claimed. He had not become a savior, but a chronicler of an inevitable catastrophe.
In the midst of this suffocating terror, Sarah Blake's efforts were a silent, furious engine. While Reuben presided over the grim triage of a dying world, she sat in the Haven archives, her desk a fortress of data-slates, witness testimonies, and financial records. She was weaving the final, damning tapestry of Howard Crane's atrocities.
She didn't tell Reuben she was ready. She simply came into his office, her face etched with a profound
