The plaza outside the Data-Hub was silent, except of the hum of the twin energy blades held by the Ivory Guards.
They stood like statues carved from white marble, blocking the entrance to the only building that mattered. Behind them, inside the Hub, Malachi's servers were spinning up, preparing to execute fifty thousand people.
I took a step forward. My right arm hung useless at my side, the skin charred black from the train's magnetic rail. The pain was a dull throb, buried under the cold, hungry static of the Devourer.
"Access Denied," the Ivory Guards repeated in perfect unison.
They didn't wait for a response. They just moved.
They were fast—Level 25 fast. They blurred into motion, crossing the twenty meters between us in a heartbeat.
"Spread out!" I yelled.
I dove to the left, rolling over my good shoulder. The first Guard—Alpha—slashed the air where my head had been a second ago. "The blade passed so close the heat scorched my hair."
