“Now,” I say calmly.
The ravine erupts.
Controlled detonations ripple through the rock corridor—precise, surgical. Not an avalanche. Not chaos.
A collapse.
The ground convulses as the hidden Ascendancy command corridor caves inward, sealing exits, crushing equipment, severing their internal routes.
Screams echo briefly.
Then silence.
Miles exhales. “Holy hell…”
Roscov’s voice crackles back—no longer smooth.
“What did you do?”
I don’t smile.
“You put your people where I could reach them.”
“You just killed dozens of my men,” he snarls.
“No,” I correct. “You did.”
Static hisses.
Then, quieter—angrier.
“You think this ends me?”
I step forward, boots crunching over shattered stone.
“No,” I say. “This ends yourinvisibility.”
Another pause.
Then something else bleeds into his tone.
Recognition.
“You didn’t just serve under command,” Roscov says slowly. “Youwerecommand.”
I say nothing.
But the past is already moving.
Behind my eyes.
Behind the name he shouldn’t know.
21
Ronan
Location: Northern Alps — Forward Hold Position
