“What?”
Her voice lowers slightly.
“The Architect believes something is coming.”
“What kind of something?” I ask.
She looks toward the dark horizon beyond the town.
The mountains rising in black silhouettes against the night sky.
Then she answers quietly—
“The kind of collapse that takes governments with it.”
Silence settles across the parking lot.
Because if she’s right—
This network isn’t just a conspiracy.
It’s a contingency plan.
And someone has already decided we’re going to be part of it.
18
Wren
The cabin is quiet again.
Too quiet.
The trucks are gone.
Adam. Russ. Boone. Blade. Miles.
All of them in town dealing with the aftermath of whatever just happened at the church.
Which leaves me alone with the system.
And the more I look at it—
The more wrong it feels.
The recruitment database still glows on the laptop screen.
Names.
Profiles.
Skill assessments.
Leadership probability.
It reads less like a volunteer list and more like a military command selection board.
I scroll through the backend code again.
