RONAN The car was thrown sideways. A roar. An explosion, far too close, shook the vehicle to its frame. The world outside was a chaos of fire and noise. All I could hear were the detonations and the brutal pounding of debris against the metal. I looked at the young boy, whose name I couldn’t remember. Tears rolled in steady streams down his dirty cheeks. His eyes were shut so tight they wrinkled. His mother, Elena, had wrapped her body around him, trying to make a shield from the hell falling around us. But her love was just flesh and bone. It wouldn’t stop shrapnel. It wouldn’t stop a direct hit. The tears in my own eyes felt hot. This was the scene.This exact moment of terror and helplessness. This was what my siblings and their children went through at the Sanctum Complex. Surrounded by violence. Knowing you are the one they look to for protection, and knowing you have none to give. Even if Aaron and Elena survived this blast, even if they kept their boy safe for this minute, countless other threats were waiting. They would follow them all the way to whatever destination they were headed. The odds were a mountain. They would die. Their son would die. A deep, final chill seeped into my body. My breath hitched in my chest, each one harder to find than the last. A black halo closed in, hugging the edge of my sight. My virtual vision flickered, flashing urgent red warnings. Pulse critical. Blood pressure failing.The Lockwoods weren’t the only ones going to die tonight. I would just beat them there. My hands began to shake. It wasn’t from my wounds. It was a pure, useless rage. I had come so far. I had held onto the need for vengeance like a lifeline. Now it would end here, on this stained floor mat, in this ordinary car. I looked at the boy again, his small face buried in his mother’s coat. I made a decision. If I couldn’t save my family, if I couldn’t pay back the bastards who orchestrated their deaths, then I would use my last few heartbeats to save just these few from their plan. I grabbed Aaron by the arm. With a strength that felt like it came from somewhere else, I pulled him down to me. He resisted, his body tense with panic. “Listen!” I shouted, my voice raw. “Listen to me!” He finally leaned in close, his ear near my mouth. I placed my hands on either side of his head, holding him there.“The code word is Blackreach,” I said, pushing the words out with my failing breath. “Blackreach. You tell them Blackreach.” He pulled back just enough to look directly into my eyes. His mouth silently formed the word. His brow was knitted in confusion and fear. I had no time left. The world was dissolving into a gray tunnel. I forced my mind to connect with the car’s guidance system. With a final, weak flick of my wrist, I uploaded the GPS coordinates for my rendezvous point to the dashboard display. With another thought, I erased the software constraints on the acceleration. The electric motors hummed, then screamed. Full power. The compact cruiser shot forward like a launched missile, weaving then straightening on the freeway. The violent sounds of the strike zone faded behind us, replaced by the rush of wind and the electric whine of the motors. We were clear. Aaron gripped my shoulders as my vision faded into nothing. “What the hell is Blackreach?” he shouted, his voice sharp with fear and demand. I could not see him. I knew my eyes were still open, but there was only void. Then, as the last functioning parts of my mind began to wink out from lack of oxygen, I saw her. My mother. She was smiling at me, a calm, clear smile from a remembered afternoon. “Mama.” The word was a whisper, a breath. It was the last thing.