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“You have chosen uncertainty,” she says.
I drag Sira’s arm over my shoulders and force myself to stand. “No. I chose my friend.”
The distinction matters to me, even if it does not matter to the ancient machinery currently sealing every exit.
Ghar reaches us in two strides and lifts Sira carefully from my grip when her knees buckle. “Can she move?”
Sira’s eyes flutter. “With assistance.”
Brakk points toward the rear gallery, where a narrow exit is already closing in segmented plates. “Assistance better sprint.”
Ghar looks at me. “Go first.”
“I can help carry her.”
“You can open whatever blocks us.”
That is not an order. It is trust under fire.
I grab the archive case and run.
Behind us, Rolaev ’s projection begins to dissolve into static. Her voice follows us down the side gallery, calm no longer, but not panicked either.
“You cannot save everyone from the weight of what you uncover.”
I do not answer because I have no answer worth shouting over alarms.
The side gallery shifts beneath our feet as the lockdown seals the occupied chamber behind us. Brakk runs beside me, panting and cursing, while Ghar follows with Sira in his arms and Choir fire chasing us through the narrowing passage.
The rescue is no longer secret.
The Choir knows exactly where we are.
And the ruins beneath reality have begun closing around us.
CHAPTER 18
GHAR
The ruins begin trying to kill us the moment the lockdown starts.
The side gallery seals behind Brakk in jagged segments of black stone that slam together hard enough to shake dust from the ceiling. Silver alarm-light pulses through the walls in violent waves, turning the narrow passage into a strobing nightmare of shifting geometry and fractured shadows. Somewhere deeper in the archive systems, ancient mechanisms grind awake with a sound like continental plates dragging against each other.
I carry Sira across my shoulders while running hard enough to tear open the burn along my ribs again.
Blood slides warm beneath my shirt.
I ignore it.
Anita leads us through the collapsing corridor with the archive case clutched against her chest and the scanner flickering in one shaking hand. Her curls are soaked with sweat and streaked gray from ruin dust. Every few seconds she glances back to confirm Sira is still conscious, Brakk is still moving, and I am still behind her.
That last glance stays with me too long each time.
“Left!” Brakk shouts.
The corridor ahead folds inward without warning. What looked like a straight path twists sideways, revealing a vertical drop filled with rotating silver rings below. Anita skids to a halt at the edge hard enough that loose stone sprays into the abyss.
“Are you kidding me?” she snaps at the universe.
