The harbor master's office had become a war room in the space of an hour. Axel had claimed the largest desk, his salvaged tablet connected to the port authority's terminal through a tangle of cables and adapters. The radar screen on the wall still glowed with the ghostly outline of the harbor, the Proscenium's blip pulsing like a heartbeat at the edge of the display. The team was scattered around the room—Vance at the door, watching the street; Nyla at the window, her eyes fixed on the distant water; Elias in the corner, his pale gaze lost in thought; Troy at Axel's shoulder, his dark eyes tracking every line of code that scrolled across the screen.
The activation signal was still broadcasting. They all could feel it now—a faint, oppressive pressure in the air, like the approach of a stor
