The sky above the city was no longer blue. It was a dull, heavy grey, choked by the shadow of the black ship hanging silent in orbit.
Inside The Archive, the air was electric with tension. Arden stood before the main console. Data streamed across the screens in a blur. Olli's fingers flew across his keyboard, a frantic dance of desperation.
"The satellite is changing," Olli reported. His voice was tight, panic edging the corners, but clear. "Energy patterns are shifting. It's not passive anymore. That's an attack mode."
Arden nodded. She had expected this. "Vorn baited them. And now we have to clean up his mess."
She turned to Amara. The woman sat in a specialized interface chair in the center of the room. Fine neural cables adhered to her temples, linking her directly to the city's projection grid. She looked small in the chair, fragile.
"You ready, Amara?" Arden asked.
