Together, we were unstoppable.
The realization about Gideon's second trap should've been paralyzing. Should've sent us scrambling to understand his real objective. Should've created hesitation while we calculated our next move.
Instead, it clarified everything.
Through our bond, Darius and I shared understanding without words. Gideon wanted chaos—political fracture, the Continental Defense Initiative destroying itself through distrust. Fine. We'd give him chaos. But chaos we controlled, directed, weaponized against the forces that thought disorder was their advantage.
"Caleb," I called through the communication network, my voice hoarse but steady. "Enemy coordination is fragmenting. Time to exploit it. Send reinforcements to the pressure points where packs are arguing instead of fighting."
"You sure? We're barely holding defensive positions. Committing reserves is risky."
