The screaming of hydraulic pistons was a sound Nala felt in her teeth. It wasn't a fast movement; it was slow, agonizing, and rhythmic. The steel walls of the vault, reinforced to survive a nuclear blast, were now inching inward. The room that had felt like a cathedral of secrets was becoming a vice.
Nala stood frozen in the center of the shrinking space. To her left, Silas Bwire’s body lay in a pool of darkening blood, his amber eyes staring at nothing. To her right, Dante Moretti was struggling to stand, his breath coming in ragged, wet gasps as he clutched his shattered leg.
And in front of her stood Leo or the thing that used to be Leo.
"The real Master isn't in this room, Nala," Leo repeated. His voice sounded like it was coming from the bottom of a well, layered and metallic. "He’
