“Ogen—do you’ve the procedure memorized?” Soren asked, his nerves showing.
“You’ll take the Gentleman’s face. You’ll infiltrate the Five-Color Fortress servers first, then use the source code to crash the base systems. Once the fortress goes dark, the Azure Thunder will lose its link. Julian will notice. Julian will panic and try to synchronize data with its backup. That’s your opening—board the ship, get onto the Azure Thunder, and enter the mainframe bay…”
“I’ve got it, Lord Dalton,” Ogen said, copying the Gentleman’s cadence almost perfectly. “You’ve said it three times already.”
Right now, Ogen looked exactly like the Gentleman. He stood at a mirror, straightening clothes he’d stripped off the corpse with careful, practiced hands.
On the other side of the room, Tyler Lynn and Cole had opened the Gentleman’s skull and removed Julian’s identity recognizer—a chip no larger than a keycard, yet capable of commanding every Tower Clan robot.
Ogen’s special body couldn’t interface with the chip directly, but Tyler Lynn’s Tech Department had already built a source-code-loaded adapter. First they ran the chip through a breaker to remove its restrictions, then handed over a small box containing the modified piece.
Ogen took it, pressed it to the back of his neck, and clicked it in place. Within moments, it sank into him like it belonged there.
“You can issue commands to the Tower Clan now,” Tyler Lynn warned. “But your authority is still below Julian’s true body. Be careful. Don’t let it see the seams.”
Then Tyler Lynn produced a palm-sized revolver and placed it in Ogen’s hand. “Five rounds. Customized for Julian. One shot is enough to erase it. You’ll use one at Five-Color Fortress. That leaves four—don’t waste them.”
Ogen slid the gun into the small of his back. “Four is plenty.”
“There’s a flaw,” Chabu, the security chief, said at last. “If Five-Color Fortress goes down, the Aurora Plateau’s ground defense network goes down with it. What if Phantom Forge attacks right then?”
“Yeah—what do we do?” Soren yelped, as if someone had stepped on his tail.
“Nothing,” Graham said, forcing calm into his voice. “We gamble.”
He leaned forward. “The Azure Thunder is circling above the plateau right now, not far from us. Once the fortress is crippled, we’ve three hours to take the ship. Once we succeed, the Tower Clan’s entire force becomes ours—and the defenses come back online.”
“But that still leaves at least three hours with the plateau completely exposed,” Chabu said, uneasy. “White Harbor is packed with Phantom Forge troops. And C-ST is still running toward her true body. If—”
“What are you afraid of?” Graham snapped. “You’ll never get anywhere if you keep flinching.”
Then his smile returned, sharp and hungry. “Besides, Ollie and Ofer are already at Maple Valley preparing to move. Phantom Forge is barely holding together as it’s. We hit them from both ends. If it all goes right, by this time tomorrow, both the Tower Clan and Phantom Forge will be gone—and humans will reclaim Lansen.”
The grin widened into something manic. “Human revival starts today. Everyone in this room will be written into history.”
“Yes,” Soren breathed. “Time to make it happen. There’s no road back now.”
He slapped his chest hard enough to make himself wince. “Hell, my heart’s going to jump out of me. Selena—go to my room and bring my Meshaphyto.”
His eyes flicked toward the five gladiators, and his temper flared all over again. “And you five—are you still standing here waiting to be fed? Go find C-ST and kill her. If you can’t, I’ll put you back into hibernation permanently.”
The five bowed and left the hall.
“I’m ready,” Ogen said to the mirror. The reflection of “the Gentleman” was nearly flawless—Bit and the others would have a hard time spotting anything wrong.
“The face is perfect,” Graham said. “What about the signal unit? Can you transmit and receive?”
“No issues,” Ogen replied.
“Then begin.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ogen walked to the exit—then stopped, turned back, and picked up the hat from the floor. He settled it onto his head and smiled. “Almost forgot the most important piece.”
He gave a graceful bow and strode out, light on his feet.
Soren clawed at his own hair and burst into wild laughter. “Hahahaha! I think this can work. Damn, I’ve got hope again. The kid is identical—identical. Hahahaha…”
“Tyler Lynn. Cole,” Graham said, cutting through the noise. “Get your people ready. The moment Ogen cripples Five-Color Fortress, you move in to take control.”
“Understood,” they answered.
Soren swung to the rest of the room and shouted, “Yes—yes! There are a thousand details. Today’s the day. Everyone move. Get your asses up and start working!”
Molly edged closer and asked in a low voice, “Lord Dalton… the Tower Clan girl is still being held here. What do we do with her?”
“Oh—right.” Soren smacked his forehead. “Almost forgot that little bitch. She’s a walking curse. Chabu—send people to kill her. And the two attendants with her—whatever their names are. Kill them too.”
“Yes,” Chabu said.
“And one more thing,” Soren added, already turning away. “Pang! Morag—”
“What are your orders?” Pang answered at once.
“Go to the hibernation wing and wake up everyone who can fight,” Soren said. Then he blinked, noticing the absence that should’ve been obvious sooner. “Wait. Where’s Morag?”
***
Back in their room, Linneya and Starling started packing. They’d thought they had almost nothing—until they realized how much they couldn’t leave behind.
Linneya’s stuffed rabbit. The glass marbles she’d collected on the road to Edean. Her sketchbook. The climbing kit Little White had given her. A knife. A thermal suit and oxygen mask. A handful of energy bars.
And most important of all—Carlos’s arm.
They stuffed everything into two backpacks and waited for the Gentleman to arrive.
The knock came sooner than expected—urgent, almost frantic.
“Lord Julian is here!”
“So fast?” Linneya blurted, rushing to the door.
She yanked it open.
A stranger stood there.
He was an elderly man—tall and painfully thin, worry carved deep into his face. Before either of them could ask a question, he spoke in a rush.
“Time is short. Listen to me. My name is Morag. Morag Young—Chief Researcher of the Bio Department. Five minutes ago, in the conference hall, I watched Lord Julian’s proxy get murdered with my own eyes.”
His voice shook, but he didn’t slow down.
“They’re going to use a disguised proxy to strike at Lord Julian’s true body. That includes you. We’ve to leave now—get to Five-Color Fortress first and warn Lord Julian, so it can prepare.”
Starling and Linneya just stared. It took them a heartbeat too long to process what he’d said.
Starling’s eyes narrowed. “You’re one of them. Why would you help us?”
“Because Lord Julian is more likely to believe you,” Morag said. “And because… I can’t watch those animals do this.”
He glanced into the corridor, tense. Right then, his communicator chimed. He flinched, checked the screen once, and immediately cut the call. Then he tossed the device into a nearby trash bin like it was burning his hand.
“If we don’t go now, we won’t go at all,” he said. “If you trust me, follow.”
He turned and started walking.
Linneya’s face went bloodless. “What do we do?”
Starling thought for only a few seconds. “We go.”
“But we don’t know him,” Linneya whispered.
The old man was already halfway down the curved passage, moving fast enough to disappear around the bend.
“He doesn’t look like a bad guy,” Starling said, and then, with a hard swallow, she grabbed Linneya’s hand and ran after him.