The freeway is silent except for the helicopter blades slowing behind us.
The Architect stands calmly between two armed teams.
And somehow—
He still looks like the man in control.
Wren’s laptop alarms scream in the night.
She stares at the screen.
Frozen.
“Los Angeles,” she whispers again.
River steps closer.
“How far?”
“Downtown infrastructure corridor.”
Adam exhales slowly.
“That’s the command hub.”
Cyclone swears under his breath.
Wren doesn’t say anything.
But Boone sees the way her eyes harden.
Sentinel.
His shadow still hanging over everything.
Boone turns back to the Architect.
“You’re coming with us.”
The man smiles slightly.
“Oh I doubt that.”
Russ raises his rifle.
“You don’t get a vote.”
But Wren is barely listening.
Her hands shake slightly over the keyboard.
“I should have seen it.”
Boone steps beside her.
“What?”
“The signal pattern.”
