The central express elevator groaned as it ascended through the core of Aegis Station, passing illuminated sub-levels packed with heavy artillery, automated drone bays, and private security barracks.
Inside the glass car, the air was suffocatingly tight.
Ryan wrung out his wet tactical jacket, checking the magazine of his borrowed sidearm. "So, let me get this straight. You two are half-goddess, half-clone, running on dead-assassin soul-energy, and the guy upstairs wants to use your brainwaves as a wireless network?"
"Summarized like a true mercenary," Echo said, leaning against the glass wall and idly feeding heavy 12-gauge shells into her street-sweeper.
Luke wiped salt spray off his tactical visor, glaring at the floor indicator as the numbers ticked upward. "I don't care if he's a god or a tech mogul. The moment that door opens, I'm putting three rounds into his tailored coat for making me swim in industrial runoff."
"Save some for us," Lyra purred, her claws humming with lethal intent.
I stood at the front of the car, my hands resting on the pommel of the Prime's black star-metal broadsword. The blade vibrated softly against the steel floorboards, its silver-and-crimson light casting dark, dancing shadows across the elevator shaft.
"Kyle," I spoke into my comms. "Status on the perimeter?"
"I've got the transport hovering directly over the ocean platform's main spire," Kyle's voice came through crisp and clear over the radio. "I hijacked Caelus's local automated point-defense grid and turned it against his own escort gunships. You've got about four minutes before his heavy reinforcements realize what's happening and scramble the air fleet."
"Four minutes is three minutes too long," I said.
DING.
The elevator slowed to a smooth stop at the top floor: LEVEL 00 — COMMAND CORE.
The pneumatic glass doors slid open, revealing a breathtaking, floor-to-ceiling panoramic view of the dark Pacific Ocean stretching out toward the horizon. The command center was a sprawling, pristine sanctuary of white marble, sleek holographic interfaces, and heavy titanium pillars.
Standing at the edge of the glass wall, looking out over the churning sea with a crystal glass of scotch in his hand, was Lord Caelus.
He didn't turn around. He didn't raise a weapon. He simply took a slow sip, his silver hair catching the ambient red pulse of the facility's alarm lights.
"You're late, Tiara," Caelus said smoothly, his voice echoing off the marble pillars. "I expected you two minutes ago. I suppose rescuing cheap hired guns slows down even the most refined spatial killer."
Ryan raised his pistol, aiming squarely at the back of Caelus's head. "Call us cheap again and see what happens to your skull."
Caelus turned around slowly, a faint, condescending smile playing on his lips. He looked at Ryan, then at Luke, then at Lyra, before his pale eyes finally settled on me and Echo.
"Iteration Seventeen and her shadow," Caelus murmured, setting his glass down on a sleek mahogany desk. "Holding the weapon of a dead era. Do you truly believe killing me here accomplishes anything? I am not a person, Tiara. I am an institution. Aegis Station is merely one node in a web that spans every black-site, every shadow government, and every Gate project on Earth."
"Then we'll burn the web," Echo growled, stepping forward with her shotgun raised. "One node at a time."
"You won't get the chance," Caelus replied calmly.
He pressed a single gold button on his cufflink.
CLACK-CLACK-CLACK.
The white marble floor split open around the perimeter of the room. Eight massive, eight-foot-tall mechanized combat suits rose from the sub-floor on hydraulic lifts. They weren't manned—their visors glowed with the sickening, silver light of reverse-engineered spatial energy, powered by the stolen data Caelus had scraped during our fights in Paris and Colorado.
"Meet the Vanguard," Caelus said softly, stepping back toward an escape pod hatch behind his desk. "Forged from your own spatial telemetry. Every move you make, they have already calculated."
"Calculated this," Luke barked, lunging forward with his combat knife as Ryan opened fire on the nearest mech's optical sensors.
"Echo! Lyra! Clear the tin cans!" I commanded, bending space around my legs.
In a fraction of a second, I materialized directly in front of Caelus's desk, bringing the Prime's broadsword down in a blinding, vertical arc aimed at his collarbone.
Caelus didn't duck.
He raised his right arm, and a shimmering, silver spatial barrier erupted from his sleeve, catching the edge of the star-metal blade with a deafening CLANG that shattered the surrounding marble floor.
My eyes narrowed. "You built a spatial shield into your body."
"I told you, Seventeen," Caelus whispered, his eyes flashing with raw, stolen power as he pushed against my blade. "I didn't just study your affinity. I made it mine."
Behind me, Echo's shotgun roared as she blew the arm off a spatial mech, while Lyra and Luke team-tackled another over the railing.
I looked Caelus dead in the eyes, my sovereign aura surging outward in a wave of blinding, thermal-spatial fire that cracked his personal barrier down the middle.
"You made a mistake, Caelus," I snarled, pushing him backward through his own desk.
"Oh?" Caelus smirked, blood trickling from his lip as his barrier began to spider-web. "And what was that?"
Echo stepped up beside me, her shotgun pressed directly into the side of his ribs while my blade held his throat.
"You assumed we were fighting to survive," Echo purred.
"We're fighting for the takeover," I finished.
The reinforced glass wall behind Caelus exploded inward as Kyle brought the stolen stealth transport sweeping past the spire, its heavy cannon firing point-blank into the command center's supports.
The spire began to tilt violently toward the ocean below.