I look up at him, and my voice comes out quieter than before. “They already are.”
A beat of silence.
Then Lonari says, “Compromise.”
My stomach clenches. “No.”
He raises a hand slightly. “Listen.”
I force myself to stay still, even though every nerve in me wants to bite.
“We do your public hearing,” he says. “Live, redundant, explosive.”
I blink.
He continues, voice controlled. “But we do it with civilian shielding layered into the plan. We pre-position Kaijen resources to protect marketplaces and transit hubs. We choke Nine retaliation routes. We make their backlash expensive.”
My breath catches.
Clint whispers, “That’s… actually smart.”
I stare at Lonari, and something warm and sharp moves in my chest—respect, relief, fear, all tangled.
“You’re agreeing,” I say, like I can’t trust it.
“I’m not agreeing,” Lonari corrects. “I’m adapting.”
I huff a laugh, shaky. “You’re impossible.”
He gives the faintest smile. “I know.”
Clint rubs his face, exhausted. “Okay. So. Public hearing, multi-feed. Morazin biometrics tied to a global dump. Kaijen shielding to prevent mass civilian casualties. And—” He glances at the locked terminal that started all this. “We’re assuming High Lantern is now aware we’re sniffing around.”
“Yes,” I say.
Lonari’s eyes darken. “Which means they’ll move.”
I nod. “Good.”
Clint looks at me like I’m unhinged. “Why is that good?”
Because if they move, they leave footprints.
Because if they move, we can catch the bridge in motion.
I lift my chin. “Because I’m done chasing ghosts,” I say. “If High Lantern wants to play god with procurement and secrecy, fine. Let them step into the light for a second.”
Lonari’s hand settles on the back of my chair—steady, grounding.
“We build the detonator,” he says.
“And we build the shield,” I reply.
Clint exhales slowly, as if accepting the insanity like a new climate. “Okay,” he says. “Then… let’s break the system.”
My fingers return to the keys, and the holo schematic grows into something monstrous and beautiful: a truth-delivery mechanism designed to punish anyone who tries to silence it.
For the first time in days, my fear has shape.
