“The tomb sentinels?”
“Possibly. Ever since the failed awakening attempt, our systems have been experiencing these glitches. Like something is draining them.”
Tomb sentinels? Draining their power?
So, it wasn’t the Syndicate responsible for our loss of power. Something else is interfering. Something stronger. As we suspected.
I edge closer, straining to see more of the map, to memorize coordinates and timelines.
“Begin pre-ritual calibration,” the authoritative voice commands. “I want everything ready when the Ivory League delegation arrives tomorrow with Elder Vex.”
“Yes, sir.”
Vex. Shit. Aside from the fact that I almost killed him, he’s one of the Syndicate’s highest-ranking elders. The fact that he’s personally overseeing this operation confirms how important it is to them.
Footsteps approach the door. I pull back, ducking behind a server rack just as two technicians exit, still discussing system anomalies.
“The interference got worse after that hybrid escaped,” one says. “Could be connected.”
“You think one half-breed could affect our entire network? Not likely.”
“Maybe not. But what about the Sleeping King? What if he’s finally stirring?”
“The Sleeping King is a symbol, you fool. Not an actual person.”
They pass without noticing me, their voices fading down the corridor. I wait until they’re gone, then slip out from my hiding place.
I need to see that map again.
Heart pounding, I risk a glance into the room. The occupants have moved out of the room, leaving the display momentarily unobserved.
I tiptoe closer, holding my breath and praying that the masking spell holds.
The map shows seven primary extraction points around the tomb, each labeled with a ritual marker. Nearby, a smaller display shows what looks like a timeline; phases of the extraction process, culminating in something called “resonance lock.” And most chilling: a list of cities with hybrid populations, ranked by priority.
Extracting the comms device, I use the integrated camera to snap off as many images as I can. The I commit the rest to memory: dates, coordinates, code names, hierarchy. Everything Aurora will need to mount a counter-operation.
Voices approach again. I pull back, scanning for an exit route.
A corridor branches to the left; maintenance access. It should lead to the peripheral systems and eventually to an exit.
I slip down the hallway, moving faster now. I’ve pushed my luck far enough, and the intelligence I’ve gathered needs to reach Aurora.
Near what I hope is an exit, I hear footsteps. A patrol, moving briskly. I freeze, looking desperately for cover.
A supply closet to my right. I duck inside, pressing myself against the wall, barely breathing. The footsteps grow louder. Stop directly outside.
I can hear the crackle of a radio. Smell gun oil and cigarette smoke. Feel my pulse drumming in my ears.
“Did you hear something?” a voice says, so close I could reach out and touch the speaker through the door.
“Like what?” another voice responds.
There’s a pause. “I dunno.” More cigarette smoke. “Something like a… fuse blowing?”
“A fuse?” the second voice scoffs. “Probably just another short circuit. Or you’re imagining things.”
“Can you blame me?” the first voice huffs. “This place is fucked up lately. The equipment is fritzing, the lightbulbs keep blowing…”
