Teorin waited in the dark, listening for the Pulser down the hall. Someone had cut the lights. He hadn’t found the switch, so the only light came through the occasional window. The hallway ahead was windowless and dark. No line of sight.

  He sent out a series of micro pulses. He wasn’t great at it, but good enough. The tiny waves bounced through the dark, feeding him rough shapes and pressure shifts. Nothing that seemed like a person.

  He was in an alcove now, but as soon as he stepped out, he’d be back lit, completely visible. He waited. Just breathing.

  Nothing.

  He stepped out. A quick step. A wave of pressure slammed down the hallway, filling the space. He fired one back, more shield than strike, but it still shoved him back a few feet. His opponent wasn’t one for subtlety, more sheer power. Definitely not Marcus.

  He flicked another pulse to chase his last, followed by two more, spaced to cover the corridor before ducking into a doorway. A curse rang out. One had hit.

  They’d been playing this game for a few minutes now. Back and forth. From this distance, the pulses mostly just knocked each other around. Pulser fights were nastier up close—bruises became broken bones, echoes became concussions. At range? Just bruises. Teorin had one blooming on his ribs already.

  He peeked around the corner and sent out more micro-pulses. Someone was still there, waiting.

  Silence filled the space, broken only by distant footsteps above, on the roof. Lev and Sasha. Teorin couldn’t tell how the fight was going. He just knew he needed to keep the Pulser off the roof. Then Sasha couldn’t escape without passing him.

  Teorin edged out, avoiding the window light. He hugged the wall and ducked into the next doorway, throwing out more micro pulses. His enemy must’ve found cover. No human shapes.

  The wait dragged, until a faint jangling broke the silence. Footsteps. Teorin fired blindly around the corner. Then stepped out and fired again. He braced. A grunt echoed from the dark, but no return fire. There was no way he’d knocked the guy out, so… what happened?

  Exposed in the windowlight, Teorin slid back into shadow. Should he wait or go after the guy?

  Charging into darkness was a bad idea, but the silence made him edgy. More micro pulses. Still there. Still waiting.

  A voice echoed from the roof. “Teorin!”

  Lev. Teorin’s chest tightened. Help Lev or wait for the pulser?

  A string of curses echoed from the stairwell. Then Sasha yelled, “Staeron!”

  That had to be the Pulser. Teorin braced, letting pressure pool under his palms. A silhouette lunged out of the dark, sprinting straight for him.

  Teorin fired a pulse. The figure staggered but kept coming. Something was wrong. Staeron wasn’t slowing down. If anything, he was bracing—

  Too late, Teorin spotted the ear protectors, barely visible in the dark. He clamped his hands over his ears and pulsed out in every direction.

  The shockwave hit like an explosion. Sheetrock cracked as Teorin slammed into the wall.

  Staeron blurred past.

  Teorin gasped, ears ringing, balance gone. He tried to rise. The world tilted. He should’ve seen it coming. But… what was Staeron thinking?

  That last blast was as close to weaponizing a pulse from a distance as you could get without severely injuring yourself. He remembered reading that sperm whales on other planets could rupture tissue with sound. But that was in water. This was air. Staeron’s pulse had pushed the limit. He had to be desperate. Or skilled. Or crazy. Probably all three.

  Teorin shook himself. What was he doing? Sitting here, thinking about whales? Staeron would be on the roof by now.

  He dragged himself up, using the wall for balance. The world swayed beneath him. He stepped and nearly fell. The ground wasn’t where it should have been.

  Move. He had to move. One hand on the wall. Two points of reference. Step by step toward the stairs.

  The wall ended at a junction. Teorin stumbled forward, still off-balance. One step at a time. He could do that. He fell against the wall on the other side, arms keeping him upright.

  The silence was worse than the dizziness. That blast could’ve blown out his eardrums. He didn’t think he was deaf. There was a buzzing hum that made his ears throb. Buzzing was good, right? If he hadn’t gotten a shield up, he’d definitely be deaf.

  The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  He reached the stairwell and climbed, his head still ringing.

  The da Silvas had Trevor’s drive. He couldn’t let Sasha get the pages too. If Teorin could force Staeron off the roof, Sasha would be stuck. As long as Staeron didn’t have the pages, there was hope.

  Teorin stumbled out onto the roof. The scene that greeted him made his stomach turn—Staeron adjusting his wings near the edge, Sasha at the center with an arm wrapped around Lev, and on her shoulder…

  The backpack. The pages.

  Teorin didn’t even think. His feet were already moving before he even processed the rest of the scene. Get Staeron off the roof. Now.

  He threw himself forward into a wobbly sprint, and pulsed, aiming at Staeron’s wings. Staeron flailed towards the edge of the roof.

  And then Lev screamed.

  Even muted, the sound cut through Teorin like a blade. He stumbled. Stopped. The pages. Or Lev? He took another stumbling step towards Staeron, just one, and raised his hands to fire another pulse.

  Lev let out another shriek, more broken this time.

  Teorin froze. The mission didn’t matter. Not when Lev—

  He’d assumed… He’d thought Sasha just might…

  What had he thought? That she’d just leave Lev alone if it seemed like he didn’t care?

  Staeron caught himself. He leaned forward. Stayed put. Teorin had meant to tackle him to shove him off the roof or hit him with another pulse, but that scream…

  Slowly, so slowly, Teorin turned to face Sasha.

  Lev was still upright, barely. The scorched fabric clung to his chest, singed at the edges and outlining the burn slashing down his chest. The sight clawed at Teorin’s stomach.

  But alive, he was alive. Thank the stars, alive.

  Teorin’s eyes darted across the scene. Lev’s maroon hoodie was scorched and tossed aside. Lev stood there shaking in just a thin t-shirt, burns visible on his arm and across his chest. Sasha’s hand was pressing down, keeping him in place.

  Teorin glanced at Staeron, who was glaring but didn’t move. What now? Should he attack? Staeron would struggle to balance with those wings out or… No.

  He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t protect the pages, not with Lev’s scream still echoing through his head.

  Jeron would have kept going. He’d have put the mission first. He’d have gone off the roof with Staeron or taken on Sasha. A mission of this stature was more important than any individual.

  Teorin’s own father had died chasing a dream like this.

  But if he did that, Lev would be completely at Sasha’s mercy.

  “Sasha, let’s go,” Staeron called, eyes scanning the city below. Teorin shivered. He could hear. Too bad it wouldn’t help.

  “Not yet,” Sasha said.

  She shifted her hand along Lev’s chest. He grimaced in pain. Sasha glared at Teorin. “Can you hear me?”

  Teorin nodded slowly. His hearing seemed to be almost back to normal. Unless Sasha was yelling.

  Sasha smiled. “The drive, Davorn. Now, or your friend really dies.”

  The drive? What in the cascades was she talking about?

  “I don’t—” Teorin started to explain at the same time Lev opened his mouth to speak.

  Then Lev collapsed.

  Teorin started forward, but Sasha glared at him. He froze. She released Lev, and he slid to the ground like a rag doll. Teorin just stared at her in horror.

  “He’s alive,” Sasha said with a sneer. She held up a stun pack. “For now.”

  Lev was stunned, not dead, just stunned. Still, that couldn’t be good for someone who’d just been burned.

  “You just…” Teorin started again.

  “It’s a light stun. We didn’t need him interrupting.”

  Teorin just stared at Lev there on the ground. She was insane.

  “The drive, Teorin. Now,” Sasha yelled.

  “I have no idea what you are talking about!”

  “The drive from Trevor’s outpost!”

  Teorin stiffened. Wait, what? Marcus had taken it… hadn’t he?

  Sasha was still glaring at him, looking almost murderous. Shouldn’t she know Marcus had it?

  “I don’t have Trevor’s drive. Marcus took it.”

  “Liar,” Sasha hissed.

  Teorin’s thoughts were racing. Marcus had taken Trevor’s drive. He’d literally left a note saying so. Had Marcus and Sasha not been working together? She clearly had no idea where it was.

  But if they weren’t working together, why didn’t Sasha believe him? What in the cascades had Marcus done with it?

  Sasha reached toward Lev again. What was Teorin supposed to do? Even if he’d gotten the drive, he wouldn’t have it anymore.

  “No! Wait!” Teorin said desperately.

  Sasha paused, and Teorin rushed on. “I don’t have it with me. Jeron’s got the drive. I gave it to him when I got to Kalin Bay.”

  It was a lie, but it made Sasha pause. Somehow, she seemed to believe the lie more than the truth.

  She glared at him a few seconds longer, then slowly pulled back from Lev. Teorin released the breath he’d been holding. She seemed undecided.

  “Time’s up,” Staeron called, looking over the edge at something.

  Sasha shot another glare at Teorin and then leaned down and clipped the stun pack to Lev’s collar, pressing it against his neck.

  Then she pulled out a remote and turned to glare again. “In case you get any ideas,” she said, turning the level all the way up.

  Lev was unconscious. That didn’t mean he couldn’t get stun shock syndrome from multiple hits, and at a high level like that… Maybe Sasha had even modified it to do more than stun.

  Teorin didn’t move.

  Sasha jogged to Staeron. He threw a glare over his shoulder, clearly not thrilled about leaving Teorin standing.

  Sasha clipped into her harness. Staeron knelt, then stood with her and the pages on his back, and sprinted for the edge of the tower, pulsing at the ground before reaching the drop.

  Teorin’s chest tightened. There was nothing he could do but watch them glide away. The pages with them.

  He wasn’t wearing his wing jacket. He had no way to catch them.

  They glided toward the city’s edge, and Teorin moved to the edge of the roof, looking down. Shadows swarmed at the base of the tower. That’s what Staeron had been wary of. Not a rescue. More hunters.

  Teorin couldn’t make out details, but if they were anything like the ones wandering campus… they weren’t allies. Probably someone else after the pages.

  How had it all gone wrong so fast?

  His legs gave out and dropped to his knees, fists digging into rooftop gravel. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, breath ragged and uneven. His body ached, but that wasn’t what hurt.

  He’d failed. He’d fought. He’d tried. He’d made every decision he could, every choice that felt right, and still, everything had fallen apart.

  The pages were gone. Lev was down. And what had he gained?

  Nothing. No, worse than nothing. He’d lost everything, and now, the city below wasn’t waiting to rescue them. It was waiting to swallow them whole.