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Wrong.
Ronan fills silence. Always.
A cold feeling slides down my spine.
I turn back toward the building.
And that’s when the lights die.
Not flicker.
Not fade.
Gone.
The entire block drops into black like someone pulled a switch on reality.
My hand is already on my weapon.
My comm crackles—
“—Aaron—” static— “—movement—inside—”
I’m already moving.
No hesitation.
No thought.
I don’t take the front.
I cut for the service stairwell, taking the steps two at a time, gun up, pulse hammering.
One word in my head.
Lark.
The hallway is wrong.
Too dark.
Emergency lights should’ve kicked in.
They didn’t.
That’s not failure.
That’s control.
I hit the door.
Unlocked.
Wrong.
Everything is wrong.
Inside—
