THE ALPHA'S RUIN
"I don't know. An hour. Maybe more."
"We don't have an hour," Lyra said from the stairwell. She was still on the bottom step, managing the resistance, not fully entering the room. "Ragnar's team is on the third sublevel. If anything goes wrong up there and the building has to evacuate we need to be above ground."
"I know," Marina said.
She looked at the channels.
She thought about what the corruption held. A decade of bloodline mapping. Three generations of careful pairing that had produced Marina herself, that was producing her daughters, that was the foundation of everything Obsidian planned to rebuild after the binding.