Masuk65 — Dawn BreaksAsh confirmed Shadow's movement at four-seventeen.Dom was already awake. He'd been at the window for an hour, the city below running its pre-dawn machinery — supply routes, shift changes, the unglamorous infrastructure of a metropolis that didn't stop moving because powerful men were sorting out who owned it. He'd watched Crown District's lights and run the board and arrived at the same answer three separate times.Reiss would come at dawn. Not midnight theatrics, not a tactical probe — a full assertion of force, everything she had, because the alternative was accepting that the victory she'd reported had been a lie she'd told herself. Reiss was too good a commander to accept that quietly. She'd come hard and she'd come fast and she'd bring enough to make the statement impossible to misread.He was ready for her.His phone was on the sill, feeds running, Ash's updates arriving in the steady rhythm of a man who also hadn't slept. Marsel's wolves were repositioned thro
64 — ChoicesThey moved on Crown District at midnight.Not with an army. Dom had seventeen men, Marsel's wolves in the tunnels below, and the particular advantage of a city that believed he was dead. Shadow had mobilized for a declaration — something visible, something theatrical, a resurrection announcement in neon and gunfire that they could intercept and contain.He gave them none of that.Instead he gave them seven simultaneous actions across Crown District's administrative grid, each one surgical, each one signed with enough of his operational signature that anyone who had worked his territory for the last decade would know exactly who was responsible.The communications relay Shadow had installed in the old Laev northern hub: dark by midnight. The financial oversight office they'd established in the vacated Cayde holdings building: stripped of every hard drive before Shadow's response team arrived. Three key access points Shadow had been using to monitor Crown District's crimina
63 — Five CutsThe first operation executed at dawn.Not in Crown District where Shadow was watching, but in the industrial corridor three kilometers south — a warehouse facility Shadow had been using as a secondary logistics hub since the Tower fell. Low priority. Minimal security. The kind of target that wouldn't trigger an immediate response because it looked like standard criminal opportunism rather than coordinated strategy.Dom watched it happen from the safe house operations room, Ash's laptop feeding him real-time updates from the team on the ground. Six minutes. In and out. The warehouse's contents — weapons, tactical equipment, three months of operational supplies — redistributed to four separate locations before Shadow's patrol response even reached the site.Eirwen stood at his shoulder, watching the same feed."They'll know it wasn't random," she said."They'll suspect it wasn't random," Dom corrected. "But suspicion isn't confirmation. And by the time they finish investi
62 — RebuildThe briefing took place in the safe house's operations room — a converted storage space with a table, four chairs, and a wall-mounted display that Ash had wired to his laptop.Dom sat at the head of the table because that's where he sat. Eirwen to his right. Marsel across from her. Ash standing at the display with the particular posture of a man who had assembled information he didn't particularly like and was preparing to deliver it anyway.The Widow was not present. That had been Dom's first instruction when they'd walked in — a single sentence to Marsel that brooked no negotiation: *She waits outside or she leaves the building.* Marsel had sent her to another room without argument.Dom's hand rested on the table near Eirwen's. Not touching. Close enough that if she moved an inch left their fingers would meet. She hadn't moved. Neither had he."Shadow's search patterns," Ash said, pulling up the first map. The city's grid overlaid with red zones — Crown District, the To
61 — UnderworldShe woke angry.Not disoriented, not frightened — angry. The clean, specific fury of someone who lost consciousness against her will and was now taking inventory of what that had cost. She was on a cot in a low-ceilinged room smelling of old stone and diesel. Utility light. Voices in the corridor beyond a closed door, kept deliberately quiet.She sat up.Her body filed complaints in order: ribs on the left side, bruised from the collapse. A gash on her forearm she didn't remember getting, already dressed and taped. Her head, splitting but functional. She made it functional through an act of will because the alternative wasn't available.She stood.The door opened before she reached it. Marsel — which told her she was in wolf territory, below Crown District, which meant the safe house had been a waypoint. The wolves had moved her while she was under."How long," she said."Four hours.""Dom.""Ash has him. He's—""Where."Marsel studied her with the look he'd had since
60 — The Fall---They made it to the third level of the shaft before the Tower separated.Not the east face this time — that was already done, already history, the east side of Laev Tower existing now only as a new shape against the Crown District skyline. This was the central structure, the core of it, the part that had held while the edges gave way and was now following them into the earth with the particular logic of things that have held too long.The shaft walls shook.Marsel’s wolves moved instinctively, pressing close around Eirwen, their bodies absorbing the vibration, and she felt Dom’s arm tighten across her shoulders as the old stone steps shuddered beneath their feet. Dust came down in sheets. The Covenant markings on the shaft walls blazed — white, then gold, then a red that had no business being that color — as the conduit line below responded to the structural trauma above.Then the shaft junction gave way.It happened in a fraction of a second and seemed to take much







