"Elara, map the return path." He looked around. "Get ready. We move in darkness."
They formed quietly behind him, a ragged order, not forced. Nathan at his shoulder, Seraphina and Elara flanking, Mae and Dion behind.
And none of them spoke again.
Because somewhere above them, silent, watching, hundreds of gods had glimpsed the shape of a mortal who chose last, and didn't flinch.
—
The last file closed with a mechanical hiss. The screen dimmed. No verbal acknowledgment. Just silence.
Merlin stood from the reinforced chair. His wrists ached from how long he'd held still, but he didn't roll them. Didn't move except to step back from the terminal.
The officer, same woman, different tone now, watched him with a wariness he hadn't earned by violence, only by implication.
"You told us more than we expected," she said. "Either you're telling the truth, or you're better at lying than anyone we've met."
He didn't correct her.
