Down below the frantic aerial battle, the evacuation into the castle had nearly completed. But Damian still hadn’t made it in yet.

  Watching the Aces fight back, he couldn’t help but feel inspired. He wanted to help—to do something, anything.

  Picking up a slugger and firing back wasn’t an option—not that he could see any lying around to grab, anyway.

  But there had to be something he could do.

  As he scanned the battlefield, his eyes locked onto a middle-aged woman in the distance—far from the castle entrance. She was pinned beneath a fallen fragment of wall, struggling to escape. It was far, exposed, and dangerous. But Damian didn’t take long to decide to take the risk. The Treviet soldiers likely had more pressing concerns, and if he hesitated now, the woman would likely end up another casualty.

  After all, how could he live with himself if he was finally in a real life or death situation—

  the kind he’d imagined so many times before—

  and he did nothing?

  So, he sprinted off to help. The woman’s voice barely reached him over the chaos of battle, but he could see the gratitude in her eyes the moment she realized someone had come for her.

  Saving someone was every bit as fulfilling as he had imagined. That look of relief alone filled him with an encouraging warmth, that made every thought of inadequacy he had in the past feel insignificant. Because at the moment—to at least this person—he was a hero.

  With a bit of effort, he pushed aside the stone slabs pinning her. Luckily, she wasn’t too injured—just a hurt leg—so he could support her back to the castle, though it would be much slower than his arrival.

  Had any of the Treviet soldiers paid him any mind, they could have easily ended him as he carried the woman toward safety—but luckily they were far too busy. Part of him relished the chance to witness the intensity and sound battle up close, to see the war unfold around him rather than from a news real or a comic.

  Above, the sky was alight with streaks of slugger fire, bright bolts crisscrossing in chaotic patterns. The Crimson Rocket tore through the air, weaving past erratic enemy fire with eaze, streaking across the battlefield like a comet.

  From the towers, the Cerulean Sniper was everywhere at once—his blue sniper slugs flashing between rooftops and towers, splitting off to pick off soldiers from impossible angles.

  And as Damian approached safety, he saw her—the Rose Valkyrie. Standing at the entrance, as she held the line in front of the door, leading the defenders with inspiring words and command, all while her glowing petals danced around like a shining beacon of safety.

  But while watching the heroic efforts of the Aces, a worrying thought crept into his head.

  If all the Aces were out here fighting—

  Then where was dad?

  He was one of the last to enter. As soon as he stepped inside, a helper rushed up, gently taking the woman from him.

  She offered a gentle smile, giving his hand a squeeze before placing a quick grandmotherly peck on his cheek. Damian shyly accepted the thanks, rubbing his cheek as he mumbled a half-hearted acceptance. But he didn’t linger. The moment she was safe, he moved deeper into the castle, his unease growing with every step.

  Where is he?

  The castle’s entrance hall was a breathtaking sight under normal circumstances—a vast foyer decorated in rich red and gold, with ornate portraits lining the walls and a grand, winding staircase leading to a second-floor mezzanine.

  Although right now, it was anything but elegant.

  The space was packed with dust-covered, frightened people, their voices a mix of cries and hushed murmurs. A haze of dust hung thick in the air. Bloody trails streaked across the floor, leading to a corner where the Medical Corps had set up an emergency triage station, tending to the wounded as best they could. The walls and ceilings rattled with each explosion outside, bits of stone and plaster crumbling onto the crowd. Above it all, the intricate glass chandelier swayed and clattered, its delicate chains jingling with every tremor.

  Damian pushed through the crowd, scanning faces for anyone he knew. He had gotten so turned around in the chaos that he hadn’t even seen a single one of his classmates since this all started.

  As he moved deeper into the castle, a booming, unmistakable voice cut through the noise—the loud barking of General Dominique shouting orders.

  “Get those doors blocked! Grab everything that’s not nailed to the ground—I don’t care how expensive or old it is!”

  Damian followed the sound, making his way toward the base of the stairs—and where he saw something that made his heart drop.

  There, crouched in pain, was Dalten, his face twitching in a pained grimace, and blood dripped from his shoulder. Beside him, the Electrum Technomancer knelt, seemingly attending to something long and metal lodged into his wound.

  “Dad!” Damian yelled, rushing over.

  “Damian! Oh, thank goodness you’re okay.” Dalten’s relief was clear in his voice as he pulled Damian into a tight hug with his one good arm—only to wince in pain.

  “Hey, stay still,” Lucas cut in, not looking up from his work.

  Now that Damian was closer, he could see the problem—a thin mechanical rod had pierced straight through Dalten’s left shoulder, like a large arrow, its bloody end flared outward in a way that made removal impossible.

  “What happened?” Damian asked, eyes wide.

  “Got hit by this thing during the worst of the storm. Don’t worry, it’s not lethal—we just need to get it off.”

  “What even is that thing?” Damian asked, eyes locked on the strange device embedded in his father’s shoulder.

  “It’s actually quite ingenious,” Lucas answered, all too eager to rant as he worked. “It’s a magic dampener—kind of like the training belts we wore at the academy to keep us from killing each other during sparring and mock battles. Except this one is much stronger, modified to completely disrupt the magical flow around it, making it impossible to channel magic properly. Perfect for taking prisoners, makes sense considering how hard it is to subdue a channeller.

  “But the method of delivery seems oddly specific. Firing this at someone would be more likely to outright kill the unless you had near perfect precision. Maybe…”

  “Finally you pop up!” Vera’s voice cut through his explanation as she stormed up to Damian. “Atleast, you’re not dead yet.”

  “Yet?” Damian responded but then decided to disregard it—there were more important things to focus on. “Vera, what happened to everyone? Where’s the rest of the class?”

  She motioned to the far side of the room, where the other cadets were being used as helpers to assist the medics find and prepare useful supplies under the Drill Sergeant’s instruction. The sergeant, upon meeting Damian’s gaze, visibly relaxed, relief flashing across her face—no doubt grateful she wouldn’t have to explain to the Silver Fox that his son had died under her watch.

  “Everyone made it out okay. You’re the only one who got lost. Doing something stupid, I bet?”

  “I was helping someone who was trapped at the far end.”

  She rolled her eyes. “So, yeah… Stupid.”

  “Ah, good, the boy is okay.” General Dominique sighed as he approached, his expression tense and exasperated, clearly overwhelmed from trying to keep everything under control. “That’s at least one less thing to worry about. Now, have you almost got that blasted thing off, boy?”

  “I’m going as fast as I can,” Lucas shot back. “This is something no one knew even existed until a few moments ago—so cut me some slack.”

  “Have you at least figured out a way out of here yet?” Vera pressed, arms crossed, clearly unimpressed with her father’s handling of the situation.

  “Not yet.” Dominique let out a frustrated breath. “There’s an emergency escape route, but it leads down the cliffs—which would be a death sentence with that hexing twister spinning out there.”

  His gaze flicked toward a group of Research Corps attendants, who were frantically twisting knobs and hammering buttons on several crystalwave radios. The sheer panic on their faces told him everything he needed to know.

  “And I’m guessing they’re still jamming communications.”

  “So we’re trapped in here. We don’t know if anyone’s coming to save us. We’re surrounded by people who want to kill us. And the one person who could save us can’t even fight. Great…”

  “Vera, please,” Dalten sighed. “There’s a time for complaining and a time for letting the adults do their jobs.”

  “Let the adults do their jobs?” Vera scoffed. “Last I checked, letting the adults do their jobs is exactly what got us into this mess. If the people who were supposed to protect us had actually done their jobs, the enemy wouldn’t have just waltzed into our capital like they own the place. Isn’t that right, High General of the Home Guard?”

  She poked the large general’s gut—which wobbled slightly—to punctuate her point.

  General Dominique was no stranger to criticism. He bore the weight of sending soldiers into battle by thousands nearly every day knowing many would never return. He had heard it all. Yet somehow, Vera always knew exactly what to say to cut deeper than any of his critics ever could.

  But the stalwart general didn’t let it show, masking his guilt behind a disgruntled grunt.

  “Easy, Vera,” Dalten interjected, his voice firm but calm. “Complaining won’t get us out of this either. There’s no point in blaming anyone now. We’re already in this situation. What matters is what we do next.”

  Vera huffed, mirroring her father’s earlier grunt, but relented. “Fine. I’ll go find us a way out. A castle this old has to have some more hidden passages somewhere.”

  Without another word, she turned and strode toward the back of the hall.

  General Dominique let out a weary sigh, addressing Dalten with exasperation. “Looks like that void-damned Empress of ours really cooked up something special for us this time, old friend.”

  “This is an ambitious attack, even for her. And something about it doesn’t add up.” Dalten motioned toward the jammer embedded in his shoulder. “If they had a clear shot at me, why use this thing? Why not just kill me outright?”

  General Dominique frowned. “You think there’s more to this?”

  “There always is when her plans are involved.”

  The weight of their conversation only made Damian feel more useless. He clenched his fists, frustration bubbling up inside him.

  “Maybe I should follow Vera. I want to see what I can do to help too.” Damian said.

  He started to stand, but before he could take a step, Dalten grabbed his wrist, pulling him back.

  “No! You stay here with me.”

  “What? Why? I can help just as much as Vera—”Damian was about to talk back before he was interrupted by a familiar voice that suddenly broke through the static of one of the nearby crystalwave radios.

  “Ple… Resp… I repeat… Ple… Respond. This is… Captain… Vynheart… Intelligence Corp.”

  Even through the distortion, Damian recognized the voice instantly.

  “Dante!”

  ***

  The battle continued to rage in the air above Castle Centinel.

  Ignacio pressed his attack on the final airship, but this one wasn’t making it easy. After witnessing the destruction of its counterpart, the remaining vessel immediately began to take desperate evasive maneuvers, and started sending out a continuous wall of sparkling flak fire that exploded in between him and itself like a firework finale, keeping him from making a clean approach.

  Every time he saw an opening to close in, one of the flying fortress’s many chain-slugger turrets forced him to bank away.

  But it was completely on the defensive now. And with Finn down below, taking out the gunners one after the other, it was only a matter of time before he had the opening he needed. But it was still taking too long.

  “Blasted thing won’t stay still,” Ignacio muttered through the telepathic link. “Not like it’s going to matter. This time, I’ll get it for sure.”

  “Hold on! Look—it’s falling back,” Finn’s voice cut in.

  Ignacio glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, the airship was pulling away, turning toward the encircling cyclone.

  Once again the winds gave way, allowing the flying fortress to pass through the raging wall of the storm as if it wasn’t even there.

  “Huh. That’s all the fight they had in them? I’m a bit disappointed,” Ignacio thought smugly. Then, a realization hit him. “Oh, wait—damn it! Did that ship have the tornado generator on it?”

  “No, it couldn’t have,” Finn countered immediately. “If what Lucas said about them is right, there’s no way those ships have the size or power to generate a storm like this. It has to be something else.”

  “So what? You think they’re controlling it from outside—maybe a ship offshore?”

  “That’s what I thought… right up until I saw those airships leave.” Finn’s voice carried a hint of unease. “No. Whoever’s controlling this storm had to have the ability to see inside. Otherwise, they wouldn’t have known where to make such a precise opening to let it escape.”

  “Wait, so someone in here is controlling it?”

  Ignacio flew up above Finn’s tower, hovering in place for the first time since the fight began. With no more airship gunners firing at him, he finally had a chance to stop and scan the area below, searching for any sign of what—or who—was keeping them trapped in this storm.

  “I don’t see anything.”

  “That’s what’s bugging me.” Finn’s voice was heavy with frustration. “A spell like this is way too big for any mage soldier—or even a channeler—to pull off alone. Hell, you’d need an entire power plant’s worth of energy to keep this thing running.”

  Finn paused, his uncertainty creeping into his tone. “Whatever’s causing this should be obvious… yet, I don’t see anything.”

  Finnegan was growing worried. Anxiety had always plagued him, but he had learned to see it as his greatest asset. Worrying so much was what had kept him alive this long, kept him planning one step ahead. If something felt wrong, it usually was.

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  And right now, something felt very wrong. Like there was still a piece to this puzzle he just couldn’t see.

  This is why he didn’t want to come to this rally in the first place. When he’s scouting alone on the battlefield he could consider everything. In a good vantage point he could use his scopes or binoculars to see anything coming a mile away. Here in this castle, behind these tall walls and with so many people around, there was just too much happening—too many variables to think about.

  But it was too late to worry about that now, he had to find the source of the tornado before it was too late.

  Peering through the scope of his slugger, Finn scanned the defenders below and the ruined courtyard—nothing.

  His sights shifted to the castle’s windows and battered walls, where the battle raged inside—still nothing.

  “You’re confusing me, Finn. Just tell me what the void I’m supposed to set on fire.” Ignacio’s voice buzzed in his head.

  Finn ignored him. He had to focus. He had to figure this out.

  After scanning the entire castle, Finn turned to the only place left.

  He looked up—into the storm.

  The ever-spinning wall of dust and debris blocked any view of the outside. But then—he looked closer. His sharp eyes focused on the impenetrable swirl of wind and dust.

  And then he saw something.

  A figure in the storm.

  A vague, dark shadow, floating unbothered within the raging winds.

  Finn adjusted the magnification on his scope, sharpening the image. His keen eyes focused in, as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing.

  A person…?

  A machine…?

  Or is that…a bird?

  Then his heart froze.

  For as he looked deeper into the storm, he realized—all the worrying in the world wouldn’t have been enough.

  Because, as he peered at the thing in the storm, he saw a pair of glowing violet eyes looking right back at him.

  “Oh, no....”

  “What is—” Ignacio barely got the words out, before it happened.

  A massive wave of wind erupted from beyond the storm’s edge with a shrill screech, slicing through the air like a massive, razor-sharp blade.

  It struck the tower in an instant.

  There was barely enough time to comprehend, let alone react.

  Ignacio saw as the window that he had just witnessed Finn looking out of just a second ago disappear in the blink of an eye. The blast cleaved straight through the entire tower like a knife through butter. The thick steel supports bent and ripped apart like paper. The sturdy stone cracked, shattered, and pulverized to dust. And Finn’s sniper slugger sent flying off into the air, with no owner in sight.

  The entire upper half of the tower began to collapse backwards, the ruins tumbling towards the cliffs below.

  “Finn!” Ignacio screamed, his body already preparing to move toward the collapsing tower.

  Maybe—just maybe—he survived.

  Maybe he could reach him before he hit the ground.

  He didn’t want to accept alternative.

  But he would never even get the chance to try.

  “Run!”

  It wasn’t the word itself that made him react. It was her voice—the sheer terror in it. It was a voice filled with the panic of someone about to watch a person they cared about die right before their eyes.

  His mind hadn’t even fully processed it—but his body had.

  Something was coming for him.

  In an instant, his muscles coiled, instincts taking over. He barely had time to think—just pull the trigger.

  A quick discharge from his slugger fired sideways, sending him sidestepping midair, just enough—just barely enough.

  The sting of wind kissed his cheek.

  A glint of a blade whipped past his face,

  slicing so close it shaved off a few hairs.

  Had he hesitated for even a fraction of a second—

  He had no time to think about it.

  Whatever this was, it was fast. He had to keep moving.

  He couldn’t even look—only listen, as the towers shattered fragments crashed against the rocky cliffside, dashing any hope he had left.

  Ignacio poured everything he had into his sluggers and blasted forward, streaking along the castle walls in a desperate attempt to create distance. Whatever was trying to kill him, he needed to shake it and regain the advantage.

  He accelerated as fast as his rocket sluggers could handle, pushing them to their top speed. But when he dared a glance behind him, his blood ran cold.

  Out of the corner of his eye he could still see it right behind him. It didn’t seem like a man, animal or machine—it didn't even look solid. It was more like a dark, inky-black cloud, and it was keeping up with him even at his fastest speed.

  No—

  He didn’t want to admit it, but—

  It was catching up to him.

  His instincts screamed at him again—Dodge!

  Ignacio shut off his sluggers for an instant, letting inertia carry him while span himself into another direction before reigniting them once again, blasting off sharply in a new direction.

  As once again, he felt as something sliced clean through the space he had just occupied.

  No one had ever been able to keep up with him in the air.

  No one—until now.

  For just a moment, he tried to turn his head to try to get a look at it.

  And he saw something looking back looking right back.

  Two bright violet eyes burned through the darkness, locked onto him with a predatory focus.

  Then it moved.

  Not like a person. Not like anything he had ever seen before. Its entire form shifted unnaturally, snapping toward him without hesitation or inertia.

  Ignacio pushed himself harder, every nerve on fire.

  He spun, twisted, dove—pulling off high-speed maneuvers that would have made a lesser man sick. But no matter what he did, no matter how many times he dodged, no matter how fast he moved—

  The shadow still followed.

  Like two dueling birds of prey, they danced through the sky, one a streak of fire, the other an unshakable specter of death.

  As he fled, a deep, familiar dread crept over him—one he hadn’t felt in years. Not since the night of his magicar crash, while he was spinning helplessly in that twisted metal coffin of a magicar.

  And now, he felt it again. Fear. That feeling, as if Death itself was reaching its cold grasp towards him.

  Nothing human could be this fast and this agile.

  No—nothing about this thing was human.

  And the moment that thought surfaced, it clicked.

  He had heard the stories just like all the others.

  Thought they were exaggerations—

  Some Treviet trick meant to demoralize their enemy.

  But this wasn’t a trick. This was all too real.

  “It’s here! It’s the Raven! It’s the void-damned Ace Killer!”

  Elera heard him scream in her mind. She could feel the panic in his inner voice. She had seen it flying at him and feared the worst—his confirmation only cemented it. The Scarred Raven was here.

  It had already taken out Finn. Now, it was coming for Ignacio next.

  She didn’t hesitate. She charged back through the castle, nearly knocking over anyone in her way as she scrambled toward where she had last seen the generals.

  Reaching the base of the stairs, she spotted them huddled around a crystal wave radio—the Silver Fox speaking urgently into the receiver while Lucas worked on the damping device in his shoulder. But she couldn’t care about what they were doing. She had no time to. If Ignacio faced the Raven alone, he wouldn’t last long.

  "Lucas, come with me, now!" she demanded, her voice edged with panic.

  "What? But I’m still working on this—"

  "We don’t have time! It’s here! The Raven is here! Finn is already gone, and now it’s going after Ignacio!"

  Lucas’s face went stark white. He was stunned by the news, as smart as he was, he suddenly found himself incapable of knowing what to do next.

  Fortunately, Dalten made the decision for him.

  "Lucas, don’t worry. Go! I’ll be okay," he reassured him.

  Lucas quickly responded to the order. Tentatively nodding before he grabbed his satchel off the floor, and bounded after Elera as they raced toward the entrance.

  "Ig, Lead it towards the entrance in exactly twenty seconds! You’ll only have one shot—make it count!", her words reaching out mentally out at Ignacio.

  No response. But she knew he was still alive. Their mental link was still active, and she could feel his panic. He had heard her, but every ounce of his focus was on survival. As it should be.

  As she and Lucas ran through the entranceway, the chase was still raging. Ignacio was trying to shake his pursuer with a spell now—fireballs launched out behind him one-by-one, erupting into violent explosions in his wake. But the shadow chasing him barely faltered, weaving around each explosion with unnatural grace, always getting just a little bit closer.

  "Oh, hex. It really is here,” exclaimed Lucas. “So what’s the plan?"

  "The Flycatcher maneuver. The one we used in our last academy test, against Ignacio’s class."

  "Alright... You sure that’s even gonna work on that thing?" Lucas asked.

  "It has to."

  Lucas pulled several wedge-shaped devices from his satchel, giving them a flic as they flared into circular mines. He tossed a couple to Elera, and the two of them quickly scattered them across the ground in front of the entrance in a rectangular pattern.

  "These things aren’t meant to hit something moving that fast," Lucas worried aloud. "They barely caught Ignacio back in the academy. I don’t know if I’ll be able to time it right."

  "I’ll handle slowing it down. You just be ready," Elera shot back, her tone firm as the two of them drew their slinger and prepared themselves. This fight would be decided in the space of a few seconds, and they only had one chance.

  Five seconds left.

  Ignacio had a few fresh cuts from some close calls, but he was still flying and ready to end this. With one final push, he streaked forward, circling the walls, leading the shadow behind him straight towards his allies at the entrance.

  Four seconds left.

  Lucas made the final connection with his slinger to the disks. A thin strand of electricity crackled between them, like thin wires. His finger hovered over the trigger, twitching.

  Three seconds left.

  Elera loaded a spell and steadied her breath, aiming down the sights of her slinger at shadow. Ignacio was coming in fast. She couldn’t miss. If this failed, she would lose him forever.

  Two seconds left.

  Damian stepped closer toward the entrance. His curiosity getting the better of him, wanting to see for himself what kind of monster could possibly strike fear into an experienced Ace.

  One second left.

  Ignacio shot overhead, his pursuer right behind him.

  And at that moment the three were finally reunited.

  And they were ready to strike back.

  It all happened in an instant—a single moment of perfect synchronicity. Not just the results of skill from some of the greatest mage soldiers in the Dominion, but the natural teamwork of friends who had grown beside each other for years.

  Elera was the first to strike.

  She fired her readied spell at the approaching shadow, releasing the shot just as she felt Ignacio pass overhead.

  If this had been an ordinary spell, the creature would have dodged it, just as it had evaded Ignacio’s attacks before.

  But this was no ordinary spell. It was one of Rose Valkyrie’s own creations.

  What burst from her slinger was neither physical nor elemental—it was a wave of psychic energy, a force designed to harmlessly incapacitate entire squads of soldiers at once. But she wasn’t up against normal soldiers, and she had no illusions that it would take the beast down alone. She just needed it to slow down.

  The spell rippled out. There was no where to dodge to as the Raven was struck by the wave of psionic force, it reeled—just for a moment.

  Lucas acted next.

  In the instant the Raven slowed, it drifted directly over his disks. With a single pull of the trigger, the trap sprang. Rows of magnetically charged wires sprang out, whipping through the air in looping arcs before snapping together tight around the shadow’s form, ensnaring midair in midair.

  Finally, it was Ignacio’s turn.

  He spun around fast and started braking hard. He hit the ground, the cleats of his steel-plated boots digging into the ground and carving two deep gashes in the ground as skidded to a halt.

  He didn’t even take the time to register what the Beast looked like—he didn’t care.

  Because in a moment, it would be ash.

  He just stared directly into its eerie purple gaze. Then—lifting both sluggers—he bared his teeth in a snarl and shouted,

  "This is for Finn, you bastard!"

  He didn’t use any complex spells.

  He didn’t need to.

  He just shut down every safety limit on his sluggers and unleashed everything he had.

  A torrent of fire erupted, the raging inferno swallowing the Raven’s shadowy form whole in an instant. The reckless flames spewed into the thick castle walls behind it, burning so hot the stone began to turn white hot, warping and melting the ancient stones.

  Lucas and Elera dove for cover, hitting the ground as the sheer force of the blaze scorched the air around them. The courtyard was bathed in blinding orange light, the fire roaring like a beast of its own.

  Through it all, Ignacio stood firm, grinning smugly as he watched the flames consume the so-called Ace Killer.

  But then, even despite the intense heat around him, his blood ran cold.

  Because as he stared deep into the intense flames, he realized—

  The eyes were still there.

  That same intense, unnatural purple glare—unblinking, unwavering—staring straight at him from within the fire.

  Nothing should have been able to survive that heat. Nothing normal.

  But this thing wasn’t normal, was it.

  Somehow, the Beast still lived.

  Ignacio’s breath hitched as he realized why.

  The creature wasn’t enduring the flames—it was matching them. It stood in the inferno, unburned, surrounded by a pocket of violently spinning wind, matching the force of Ignacio’s flames at point-blank range.

  His strongest attack—his last resort—was doing nothing.

  At best it was only holding the creature back. And he could already feel his sluggers overheating beneath his grip. If they failed, if the flames cut off for even a second, the Raven would tear him apart. Then it would go for the others next.

  Ignacio glanced towards the side. Elera was still on the ground, shielding herself, vulnerable.

  If he failed, she would die.

  Lucas along with her.

  And then all the people inside.

  There was only one thing he could think to do.

  Ignacio abruptly ended his assault, quickly re-aimed his sluggers downward, and blasted as fast as he could directly into the sky.

  Before the cinders had even settled, the Raven tore free from its metal restraints with a deafening boom and launched after him.

  "Ignacio!" Elera screamed after him, but he was already too far for her mental link to reach.

  He was too high.

  And going too fast.

  Ignacio shot straight up. True to his name, he skyrocketed toward the heavens, climbing faster than he had ever gone before.

  He was the Crimson Rocket.

  The greatest Mage Soldier to ever live.

  The fastest man alive.

  No one, neither human, beast, or even god could ever hope to beat him.

  All he had to do was keep climbing.

  Out climb the twisting storm and escape over it. Then he could lead the Raven away. He could lead it to reinforcements—someone out there had to be ready—to have the firepower to take this thing down and finish what he couldn’t.

  Higher and higher.

  Faster and faster.

  Bearing the quickly creeping chill, as he climbed higher than he ever climbed before.

  Staying just ahead of the shadow that chased him.

  He rose up into the storm clouds, tearing through the blackened sky—until, at last, he reached the top. He passed into open air. Into a night sky that stretched endlessly before him.

  But as he looked down toward the city below, expecting to see the twinkling of shining lights like he had seen the day of his first flight long ago.

  Instead, he saw fire—

  A sea of flames, stretching across the city like a burning wound.

  And in that single, dreadful moment of realization—he paused for just a moment.

  A moment he didn’t have.

  A blade ripped across his chest.

  Searing pain cutting through flesh and bone.

  His grip loosened from the triggers.

  His sluggers went dark.

  And the Crimson Rocket began to fall from the sky.