Semua Bab The Debt of the Virgin Widow: Bab 81 - Bab 90

"Drop the rifle, Dante. If you squeeze that trigger, the satellite above us puts a kinetic rod through this roof before your casing hits the floor."The nursery door hissed open. It didn't groan like the rest of the scorched estate. It slid with the frictionless silence of a lab. The air inside didn't smell like the fire raging three floors up; it was a choking mix of sterile antiseptic, synthetic milk, and the hot, metallic tang of Dante’s overheating sidearm.Dante didn't lower the gun. His jaw creaked, a muscle jumping in his neck as he ground his teeth. His knuckles were bloodless, bone-white against the black polymer of the grip. "Step back. I don't care about the sky. I’ll paint this floor with you first."Bianca sat in the center of the reinforced bunker, her back against the steel-plated crib. She gripped the infant to her chest. The child didn't squirm. He didn't cry. His tiny hand was locked around Bianca’s thumb, his squeeze so intense it turned her nail blue. A bruise was

Walk faster, Vane. The sky is already falling, and we don't have time for your postpartum limp."The guard shoved the barrel of an pulse-rifle into the small of Bianca’s back. She stumbled, her boots skidding on the pressurized ramp of the command ship. She didn't cry out. She adjusted her grip on the bundle in her arms. The infant’s amber eyes were wide, tracking the flickering overhead lights of the hangar bay. He remained unnervingly silent, his tiny chest rising and falling in a rhythmic, heavy thrum that Bianca felt against her own ribs."Touch me again and I’ll ensure the Council has nothing left to calibrate," Bianca spat. She didn't turn around. She kept her eyes on the airlock ahead. "Where is the Butcher? If you’ve touched him—""The Butcher is being processed," a voice echoed through the hangar’s intercom. It wasn't the Vessel. It was colder. More mechanical. "He is an obsolete model. You, however, are the legacy. Move to the Bio-Vault."The airlock hissed open. The air ins

“Cut the feed, Dante! Rip the goddamn wires out!”Bianca’s voice wasn't her own. It vibrated with a metallic, discordant reverb that rattled the glass of the remaining Bio-Vault tanks. She was arched back in the cradle, her spine snapping tight against the steel frame. Her fingers clawed at the air, nails dragging red lines through the condensation on the control panel.Dante didn't hesitate. He lunged for the primary conduit—a cluster of fiber-optic cables pulsing with a nauseating blue light. He wrapped his fists around the bundle, his knuckles turning a bloodless white. He heaved, his boots skidding on the synthetic fluid slicking the floor. With a spray of sparks and a high-pitched electronic shriek, the cables tore free.The reaction was instant.Hundreds of glass tanks groaned. Inside the fluid, the clones—the Perfect Vessels with Bianca’s face—began to twitch. Their mouths opened in perfect synchronization. A collective, soul-shredding scream erupted, vibrating through the liqu

“Grab the kid, Dante! Don't you dare let him slip under!”Bianca’s lungs burned with the brine of the Atlantic. She thrashed against the churning gray water, her fingers clawing at a jagged shelf of volcanic rock. The Azores outpost sat above them like a rotted tooth, a graveyard of Vane secrets built from salt-stained concrete and rusted iron.Dante erupted from a cresting wave, gasping, his face masked in a thick smear of black ship fluid and sea salt. He held the infant high above the foam. The child’s amber eyes were wide, unnervingly calm as the spray lashed his face. Dante’s boots found purchase on the slick, submerged stones. He hauled himself up, his muscles bunching and trembling under the weight of his sodden tactical gear.“I’ve got him!” Dante barked, his voice a jagged rasp. He reached back, his fingers—slick with grease—clamping onto Bianca’s wrist. He yanked her onto the shelf.They collapsed onto the grit. The island of ash didn't offer a welcome; it offered a stinging

“Don’t you dare touch that terminal, Bianca!” Dante’s voice cracked, a jagged sound in the sterile silence of the vault.Bianca didn’t flinch. Her fingers hovered over the cold glass of the interface, the bioluminescent glow washing her face in a ghostly blue. “It’s the only way, Dante. If I don't become the Anchor, the system collapses. We both die here. Everyone in the lower sectors dies.”“I’m not letting you rot in a cage of code for the rest of your life,” Dante growled. He lunged forward, his boots skidding on the metal floor. He grabbed her shoulder, spinning her around. The desperation in his grip made his knuckles ache. “Look at me! You think I’m going to sit outside while you’re buried alive in a machine?”“Get your hands off me!” Bianca shoved him back, her breath coming in sharp, ragged hitches. “You think this is about you? It’s about survival. I’m wolfless, Dante. My family already threw me away like trash. I’ve got nothing left out there. But here? Here I can actually s