We streaked toward a canyon cut between the mountains. The speed was high enough to trip Little White’s shield, so I eased off a fraction—Merc’s canister probably couldn’t handle the heat from air friction.
Mach 0.9. That was the edge of what we could do, and the dozens of missiles behind us were still closing fast.
Bit summarized his plan on the common channel. I didn’t love it, but there was no time to argue. The cliff he’d picked was already looming ahead.
We adjusted our angle and skimmed along the rock face. The nearest missile was less than a hundred meters off our tail.
Merc raised his weapon and fired several grenade rounds into the cliff above and ahead. The blasts punched into the rock. A broad slab shattered into chunks and gravel, raining down over our path.
Merc’s timing was always perfect. We cleared the cliff at the exact moment the stonefall dropped behind us…
…and the missiles punched straight into it. One detonated. Then another. The chain reaction rolled through the whole swarm like a fuse.
“Nice work, Merc,” Bit said.
“Careful,” Merc replied. “A few got through.”
“I’ve got them. Stick to the plan.”
I didn’t need my sensors to confirm what I’d already seen. “It’s not just missiles. Fighters are coming in from farther out.”
“I see them,” Bit said. “Get into the canyon first. Then we look for a chance to drop them.”
The cliff slid away to our left. A notch opened between two ridgelines—the canyon mouth. Merc and I snapped into a hard ninety-degree turn and dove inside.
Bit kept flying straight for a few seconds longer. Once he’d confirmed every remaining missile was locked on him, he surged forward, arrowing toward the opposite ridge…
Merc and I vanished into the shadowed folds of the mountains the moment the canyon turned. Without the Genesis’s light on us, my systems unclenched—
—and then explosions thudded in the direction Bit had disappeared.
“Bit, are you okay?” Little White’s voice came fast on the common channel.
“Of course,” Bit answered almost immediately. “It was just a few missiles.”
Relief flickered through all of us. Then Bit added, “But those fighters are still on me.”
I ran a quick terrain scan and made a call. “This canyon is perfect for an ambush. We can terminate them here.”
The canyon walls rose and fell in uneven waves, studded with massive boulders and pockets of shadow—too many hiding places to count. Merc spotted the best one at a glance. We moved at once and sent the coordinates to Bit.
“Bit. Here,” I said. “We’re set. Lead them in.”
“All right,” he replied. “I’m almost there. Don’t miss.”
It was a shallow notch at the top of a low ridge. Two enormous rocks framed it like jaws. The three of us took positions along the edges. Merc set the canister down behind cover. I handed Efa’s 2D Blade to Little White.
For a better view, I released the Shadow Falcon and pushed its feed onto the common channel.
Then we waited.
A moment later, a messy roar swelled from the distance. From the Shadow Falcon’s overhead angle, I saw Bit carving a tight arc through the air, five Razorwhale fighters glued to his tail.
Seconds later, Bit blasted through the notch in a gust of grit and wind.
Their speed made the window razor-thin. I’d already run the timing and angle in my head. When the first fighter hit the notch, my 2D Blade took its wing clean off.
Little White was a beat slower. She sheared the second fighter’s tail wing, but the result was the same—both aircraft spun out and slammed toward the canyon floor.
At this range, Merc’s heavy rifle was brutal. He dropped one outright and crippled two more with a single clean burst.
Better than I’d expected. Much better.
Seeing the ambush land, Bit kicked upward in a sharp climb to shake the last few trailing missiles. He drew his own 2D Blade, rolled in midair, and slashed at the nearest damaged fighter. The cut opened it from nose to tail, and the wind tore it into two pieces.
Only one fighter—already limping—managed to limp away, trailing smoke.
We didn’t even track it. The valley was brightening. High above, the enormous cross of light—like a sun made of angles—was sliding toward us.
Through the Shadow Falcon’s feed, I saw escorts clustered around the Genesis: warships and smaller air units, fanning out as they approached.
We dove deeper into the boulders’ shadows.
“I’m exhausted,” Little White said, slumping against the rock. “This fight is never-ending.”
I didn’t have an answer. “What do we do now?”
“Run,” Merc said.
“Run where?” Little White snapped. “Once we’re out of these mountains, it’s open plain.”
Bit didn’t argue. He overlaid a map onto the Shadow Falcon’s top-down view. The lines were crooked, branching like leaf veins—
—but the moment they matched the terrain, I recognized it.
The underground passage we’d used on the way in.
Bit marked a point near the mountain’s base. “Wyatt. In the original plan, this was where you were supposed to surface.”
He marked a second point. “This is where we’re now.”
A line linked them. A distance readout flashed.
“Less than a kilometer,” Bit said. “We can duck into the tunnels.”
I nodded. “That works. This terrain still gives us a chance to slip past.”
“Then move,” Little White said, forcing herself upright. “They’re close.”
***
We threaded through gaps between rocks, winding down toward the tunnel entrance. On paper, it was simple.
In reality, it was misery.
Bit, Merc, and I could cloak. Little White’s nanoweave suit could as well. But every one of us carried damage, and the injuries dulled the cloak’s edge.
Worse—the canister caught light. Every time it flashed, it felt like a flare.
Above us, that cross-shaped “sun” drifted back and forth, painting the valley in hard white. Shadows warped and slid as the beam moved.
And it wasn’t only the Genesis.
Its escort ships released olive-shaped pods into the air. The pods unfolded, spreading into umbrella-like forms.
I knew them.
Recon bots called Listeners—built to pick up ground-borne sound and to catch wireless signals in the air.
I’d been planning to use the Shadow Falcon’s view to keep us out of sight. With Listeners in the sky, that plan died. Before the pods fully deployed, I recalled the Shadow Falcon.
Fighters prowled the valley too, sweeping in lazy circles as they searched.
We moved in near silence, barely faster than walking, inching toward the entrance.
Halfway down, we spotted scout orbs that hadn’t been there before—small spheres drifting between rocks, shining light into every crack.
I remembered the test Julian had put me through. If he’d used this kind of net then… I wasn’t sure I would’ve passed.
We stopped. We waited. We slipped around a few scout orbs by centimeters.
And when Phantom Forge still didn’t find us, it escalated.
A Sothos-class medium carrier swept in overhead. Its bay doors yawned open, and hundreds of robots poured out—most of them agile Punishers.
Some dropped to the ground. Others skimmed low over the rocks. The valley became a moving grid, a carpet search in three dimensions.
It made one thing painfully clear: Phantom Forge cared about us—and about the Old Man—enough to spend anything.
If we were spotted under this kind of pressure, we wouldn’t survive.
Our pace crawled slower and slower until we had no choice but to stop. We wedged ourselves into a split in a giant boulder, a narrow crack that hid us from casual sight.
Little White’s face went paper-white. On the common channel she whispered, “I don’t think we can make it.”
Bit scanned the valley. For once, he had nothing clever to say.
“We can’t stay here either,” Little White said, voice shaking. “They’ll find us eventually. Think of something.”
I made the choice before my hesitation could grow teeth. “I’ll go out and draw them off.”
“No,” Bit snapped. “Too dangerous.”
“We’re all in danger,” I said, forcing myself to think as I spoke. “This crack is still hidden. If I seal it from the outside, they might miss it. Then I can move farther away and leave traces—make it look like we already escaped…”
The more I built the plan, the more it held together. Little White still sounded uncertain, but Bit’s tone shifted.
“It’s a plan,” he admitted. “Better than waiting here to die. But I’ll go.”
“No.” I kept my voice flat. “I’m the least damaged. My cloak is the strongest. It has to be me.”
I started to rise—
—and a scout orb floated into view at the mouth of the crack.
Its spotlight flared.
And all four of us were suddenly drenched in white.