That wing housed all foreign energy analysis infrastructure.
"Was there an active construct?" Blake asked carefully.
Rook's eyes flicked away for a split second.
"…Yes."
Blake's voice turned cold.
"And you didn't think to start with that?"
Rook scowled.
"I came to report Crown."
"You came because you're angry," Blake corrected.
The room tightened.
Blake stepped closer.
"Listen carefully. Personal pride does not dictate Apex governance."
Rook bristled—but didn't speak.
Blake continued:
"If Crown is running unsanctioned dimensional stabilization, that is not insubordination."
Rook blinked.
"It's strategic deviation."
Blake turned toward the projection interface and began pulling internal logs.
"Which means," Blake continued calmly, "either he's securing our greatest asset… or preparing to control it independently."
That thought lingered.
Blake's eyes darkened.
"Did Oracle or Veil object?"
"No."
"Did they defend him?"
"…No."
Interesting.
That meant Apex unity wasn't broken.
But it wasn't solid either.
Blake folded his arms.
"Very well."
Rook frowned slightly.
"That's it?"
"No," Blake replied evenly.
"I will not confront Crown directly."
That surprised Rook.
"Why not?"
"Because if he's preparing something significant, forcing confrontation accelerates it."
Blake's gaze turned calculating.
"Instead… we monitor."
Rook's jaw tightened.
"So he just gets away with it?"
Blake looked at him sharply.
"This isn't about 'getting away' with anything."
"It's about determining whether Apex-01 is acting as my weapon…"
"…or becoming a sovereign power."
That sentence changed the temperature of the room.
Rook felt it.
Blake walked back toward the central table.
"From this moment forward," Blake said calmly, "Crown is under silent observation."
Rook blinked.
"You're putting the strongest Apex under surveillance?"
"I'm putting everyone under surveillance."
Blake's eyes flickered with controlled intensity.
"If Crown is accelerating something in the lower wing… I want access to every energy fluctuation."
He paused.
"And Gauntlet."
Rook straightened slightly.
"If you confront him again without authorization…"
"…I will personally remind you who leads this unit."
Rook gave a short nod.
"Understood."
He turned to leave—
But Blake added one final sentence.
"And Gauntlet."
Rook paused.
"You may have just ignited something far larger than your pride."
Rook didn't respond.
He exited.
The door sealed.
Blake stood alone in the command wing.
Projection lights flickered softly.
He zoomed into one specific metric.
Dimensional lattice acceleration rate.
It had increased.
Not slightly.
Exponentially.
Blake's expression darkened.
"…What are you building, Crown?"
For the first time—
Blake Rogers felt something dangerous.
Not fear.
Not doubt.
Uncertainty.
And in a structure built on control—
Uncertainty spreads like fracture lines.
⸻
Two days passed without incident.
Which was precisely why it felt wrong.
Inside the Apex observatory chamber, cascading probability threads rotated around Iris Vale like silent constellations. She stood motionless within them, eyes half-lidded, tracking divergences most people would never perceive.
Then—
A line shifted.
Not violently.
Deliberately.
She narrowed the projection.
Destination vectors aligned westward.
Maritime routes.
Clear intent.
"…Darkshore," she murmured.
The confirmation settled into place.
Neo wasn't considering it anymore.
He was going.
Iris turned immediately and transmitted the data packet to command.
⸻
Blake Rogers received the report in his private operations wing.
He read it once.
Then again.
Neo Zane Cole — projected departure window: within seventy-two hours.
Destination probability: Darkshore Union.
Blake's jaw tightened.
This was escalation.
He opened an encrypted channel.
Within minutes, a high-level emergency session convened.
A holographic chamber flickered to life.
Director Hale appeared first, rigid and sharp-eyed.
Moments later, Elias Harrow joined, composed as ever.
Blake delivered the report succinctly.
"Neo Zane Cole is planning travel to the Darkshore Union. Probability confidence exceeds ninety percent."
There was a brief silence.
Elias leaned back slightly, thoughtful.
"That complicates things," he said. "Justice gaining proximity to Wisdom is not ideal."
Director Hale did not lean back.
He leaned forward.
His face had lost color.
"He must not leave," Hale said immediately.
The intensity in his voice cut through the chamber.
Blake blinked once. "Director?"
"He must not leave the nation," Hale repeated, louder this time. "Mobilize Apex. Intercept him before departure."
Elias frowned slightly. "Director, that response may be excessive. Yes, it's risky—but—"
"No." Hale's hand struck the desk in front of him. "You don't understand."
Blake watched carefully.
Hale's breathing had shifted.
Unsteady.
Almost fearful.
Images flickered in Hale's mind—uninvited.
A quiet evening at his residence.
Neo standing calmly in his garden, issuing a warning that had felt less like a threat and more like inevitability.
Hale had never told the others about that visit.
He had convinced himself it was contained.
Private.
Controlled.
Now Neo was moving toward Justice.
Was this retaliation?
Coordination?
A declaration?
Hale's thoughts spiraled.
"If he reaches the Darkshore Union," Hale said, voice tightening, "we lose leverage entirely. Justice will shield him. We will have no jurisdiction."
Elias studied him carefully.
"Director," Elias said slowly, "your reaction suggests additional context."
Hale's gaze snapped toward him.
"There is no additional context," he said too quickly. "Neo is a destabilizing factor. We delayed action before. That was a mistake."
Blake felt it then.
Something beneath the surface.
But he remained silent.
Elias exhaled.
"Branding him an enemy of the state will cause panic," he said. "The public perception of Saints is already volatile."
"I don't care about perception," Hale replied sharply. "I care about containment."
The word hung in the air.
Containment.
Elias's confusion deepened.
Yes, Neo was a problem.
Yes, cooperation with Justice was concerning.
But Hale's reaction was… disproportionate.
Still—
Neo was indeed becoming harder to predict.
Elias turned his gaze to Blake.
"What are your operational projections?"
Blake answered automatically.
"If Neo resists interception, escalation probability exceeds sixty percent. If Apex engage at full force, collateral risk increases."
"Can he be captured?" Elias asked.
Blake hesitated.
"With Apex and android support deployed simultaneously… yes."
The room quieted.
Elias closed his eyes briefly, then opened them.
"Very well."
He looked directly at Blake.
"You are authorized to intercept Neo Zane Cole before departure."
Hale added coldly, "Capture him at all cost."
Blake felt something shift in his chest.
For the first time since joining the executive structure—
He doubted.
Not Neo.
Not Apex.
The order itself.
But command was command.
Blake straightened.
"Acknowledged."
He terminated the channel.
The chamber dimmed.
For a long moment, he stood alone.
Then he activated internal mobilization protocols.
Apex readiness status: engaged.
Android tactical unit: deployed.
Interception grid: forming.
Across the city, subtle movements began.
Vehicles repositioned.
Airspace tightened.
Surveillance density increased.
Blake stepped toward the exit of the command wing.
He paused only once.
"…Crown," he murmured quietly.
If this turned into confrontation—
The strongest Apex would be on the field.
And Blake still didn't know where Crown truly stood.
But doubt could not override orders.
He walked forward.
The operation had begun.
And somewhere else in the city—
Neo was still unaware that the state had just decided to treat him as an enemy.
⸻
The morning felt normal.
Too normal.
I told my mother I'd be back soon.
"University scouting," I said lightly. "Seraphine and I want to look ahead."
It wasn't entirely a lie.
Just not the truth she thought it was.
She hugged Seraphine at the door.
"Take care of him," she said warmly.
Seraphine smiled in that gentle way she reserves only for her.
"Always."
And then we left.
⸻
The city air was calm as we moved toward the airport district. I kept my perception low, intentionally restrained. No need to broadcast intent.
Seraphine walked beside me quietly.
Halfway down the express route—
She slowed.
I felt it a breath later.
Pressure.
Structured.
Layered.
Not random surveillance.
A perimeter.
Seraphine's voice dropped softly.
"They're not here to negotiate."
No.
They weren't.
I lifted my gaze.
Four directional suppressions locked into place across rooftops and intersections.
Energy signatures revealed themselves one by one.
Saint-class.
Android-class.
Coordinated.
Too synchronized to be coincidence.
They'd already spotted me.
Avoidance was no longer an option.
Vehicles stalled subtly in surrounding lanes.
Pedestrian flow redirected.
Containment without public panic.
Clean.
Efficient.
Professional.
Blake Rogers stepped forward from the center line of the road.
Behind him stood the Crown-Null android unit—twenty-five mechanical bodies radiating cold artificial divinity.
And behind them—
Four Apex.
Rook Calder stood slightly forward, arms crossed, expression unreadable but tense.
Iris Vale watched quietly, probability threads faintly shimmering around her.
Jonah Reeve maintained the stabilizing field suppressing environmental distortion.
Maris Kade stood poised, energy coiled and ready.
Two signatures were absent.
Crown.
Veil.
Interesting.
Blake met my eyes.
"This is unnecessary," I said calmly.
"That depends on your definition," Blake replied.
His tone was controlled.
But his posture was tighter than usual.
"You're planning to leave the country," he continued.
"Yes."
"That is no longer permitted."
Seraphine stepped half a pace behind me—not retreating.
Positioning.
"You don't have jurisdiction over my movement," I said evenly.
Blake's jaw flexed.
"You have been classified as a destabilizing entity."
That was new.
"By whose authority?" I asked.
"Executive order."
I didn't need clarification.
Director Hale.
Fear moves faster than logic.
"Are you attempting arrest?" I asked.
"Yes."
The android unit shifted into synchronized stance.
Energy locks calibrated toward me.
Public radius cleared to an almost surgical precision.
This wasn't spontaneous.
This was mobilization.
Footsteps approached from behind.
I didn't need to turn to know.
Lina and Eli.
They'd just arrived.
Eli's energy flared instantly—gravity compressing subtly around him.
Lina went still.
Very still.
When she stepped beside me, the air changed.
Truth stabilized.
The suppression field flickered once.
Oracle's eyes sharpened.
Blake noticed it too.
"This doesn't have to escalate," Blake said.
"You escalated it already," I replied.
Rook stepped forward slightly, clearly eager.
"Stand down voluntarily," Blake ordered.
"No."
Simple.
Honest.
The perimeter tightened.
Oracle's threads shifted rapidly—calculating combat outcomes.
Anchor increased environmental reinforcement.
The androids began energy synchronization.
Seraphine's presence behind me expanded—quiet, luminous.
Eli rolled his shoulders once.
"You sure about this?" he muttered under his breath.
"No," I answered honestly.
That made him smirk faintly.
"Good."
Lina didn't speak.
But I felt her ability rising—not outwardly aggressive.
Defensive.
Absolute.
Blake lifted his hand slightly.
Final warning posture.
"Neo Zane Cole," he said clearly, "you are ordered to surrender to state custody."
The city felt like it was holding its breath.
This wasn't about travel anymore.
This was about control.
And if I yielded now—
Everything shifts in their favor.
If I resist—
War begins here.
I exhaled slowly.
W.I.S.D.O.M activated at minimal output.
[ENGAGEMENT PROBABILITY: 78%]
[CIVILIAN CASUALTY RISK: LOW IF CONTAINED WITHIN 400-METER RADIUS.]
I looked at Blake one last time.
"You don't want to do this."
For the first time—
I saw it.
Doubt.
But orders outweighed doubt.
Blake's hand dropped.
"Detain him."
The androids moved first.
And the morning shattered.