Liam stepped back and blinked hard, once, then again, telling himself for one absurd second that fatigue had finally made him see a nightmare. It did not.
Cain Canmore stood on the metallic bridge above Lab V, one hand resting lightly on the rail, expression neutral, purple eyes stripped of everything human enough to be called hesitation.
Empty.
Below him, the work floor seemed to freeze.
Mara went still at the console.
Alexander turned first, hand already moving toward the weapon at his side.
"Lord Liam—"
Cain lifted one hand.
Ether answered, wrapping around the pale, long fingers, dark at the edges, a sickly gold threaded through shadow, as if it had been dragged through something old and hungry before being forced back into shape. It poured from Cain's palm and struck the Gate.
The entire structure shuddered.
Liam's stomach dropped.
"No," he said sharply, turning fully toward it. "No, no—"
The Gate woke.
