“No,” I say.
Somewhere above us, systems are locking down, guards rerouting, Malenkov recalculating.
Somewhere else entirely, Ronan Pierce is going to see the breach ripple across his map.
And Lena?
She’s going to realize I just turned Malenkov’s maze into a liability.
I push to my feet.
“Come on,” I say softly. “We keep moving.”
Because tunnels don’t trap you.
Theyconnect you.
And I intend to follow this one straight into the light—or straight into the fight.
Either way—
I’m done waiting.
58
Jonah
Location: Subterranean Service Tunnels — Deep Sector
Time: Unknown
The tunnel ends.
Not curves.
Not splits.
Ends.
Concrete wall. Fresh enough to be intentional. A dead stop where movement should continue.
I skid to a halt, breath tearing out of me, heart hammering hard enough to drown out the alarms echoing faintly behind us. Pain flares sharp and hot through my ribs—boots, batons, hands that never stopped when I begged them to—but I don’t let it slow me.
Pain is information. Nothing more.
She stops short, almost colliding with my back.
“Oh God,” she whispers.
I press my palm flat against the wall.
Cold.
Solid.
No visible seams. No door. No hatch. Just a narrowalcove filled with cables, with a junction box mounted chest-high; its casing scuffed but intact.
Footsteps echo louder now.
