Korac killed four of his men and arranged their bodies in a trail of destruction left behind by Rayne. Messy, bloody. Evidence of her wrath. He hoped she and Sagan left the dungeon by now after settling that score. Footsteps carried from the corridor. No time to grab a shirt. He allowed the skid to carry him to the island.

The only change to the Martyr Complex, aside from her absence, was an obvious depletion of the blood stored inside without her sourcing the device. It made him wonder—

“How did she get out?” Nox’s voice held no edge of rage or panic.

Korac peered up at him as the King marched down the ramp. No tension. Relaxed. “Your majesty, I’m not sure. It happened roughly thirty minutes ago. The Complex is undamaged. The guard reported a white light and screams. By the time they arrived, she killed four of my men, permanently blinded another four, and vanished.”

Nox nodded along as he examined the Complex. Three weeks ago, his King damned near pissed himself after seeing her eyes. Granted, they were awesome to behold. But now, Nox was more elated than he looked in weeks. What changed? “Do you suspect the Lt. General assisted her?”

Korac controlled every muscle in his body to prevent any reaction at the mention of Sagan from his mouth. “Yes, sire. I’m certain they’re long gone.”

The massive Icarus stretched his hand over the glass, absent of his insignia ring. “Have you checked the prisoner?”

“On my way, now, your majesty.”

“I’ll join you.”

Fuck.

The entire walk there, Nox’s body hummed with energy. Anticipation. Korac concentrated so hard on his scrutiny that when his King spoke, it almost startled him. “I moved forward with Iona-29. Three hostages were kind enough to drop in.”

“It’s always nice to have volunteers.”

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The dungeon was empty.

Nox examined the bars. “She popped them right off. So full of surprises.” He sniffed. “Missed them by five or ten minutes at the most. They took the boy alive.”

“He’s either very lucky or very unlucky.”

His King nodded along, again. He was shockingly agreeable for someone who just lost custody of a god. “I want visual and audio feed from the surveillance cameras in Iona-29. Patch it to the observatory. Let’s see what they’re capable of as an intact unit.”

“Sound strategy, sire. I—” Korac faltered as he considered the resurgence of Celindria’s black soul. If he told Nox now, it might destabilize him. Already dangerous, the idea of him completely off the rails with his eyes set on so many targets, including Sagan, did not appeal. Knowing that evil bitch survived and was left to her own corrupt devices for the last two thousand years after her disappearance, seared Korac. It would devastate Nox in the worst way imaginable. No. Don’t tell him. At least not until Sagan was safe.

“It’s not like you to lose your words, General.” The man missed nothing. The weight of his black gaze pressed through Korac’s sternum, straight into his brain.

“Unusual day, your majesty.”

A silent standstill, leaving both men staring at each other. Nox glanced down at Korac’s bare chest. “Quite.”

Thank, Elden.

Nox stepped out of the cell and barked out some orders. “Assign more men to the Tantamount site. I want that forest scoured. They’re hiding somewhere nearby, I can feel it. No one engages the Progeny or their pet humans. I want full reports of their activities—what we can track anyway with the Lt. General transporting them everywhere. And Korac?”

“Sire?”

“I want the mines reactivated around the Enki conduit.”

The reflex to recoil proved too strong. “Y-Yes, sire.” Why the hell…? What about their contacts on the inside?

With his back to Korac, Nox speculated, “There’s enmity mounting. This wave feels familiar. Above all, Cinder must see victory.”

“Above all, your majesty.” And he wholeheartedly agreed. There was a change in Nox. A strange finality to his presence that unnerved Korac. He spoke as if he faced an inevitability, but his words held no fear. “Sire?”

Nox glanced over his shoulder with a raised eyebrow.

“I request permission to speak openly with you as your adviser. For the duration of this war.” Might as well go all in.

The older Icarus faced him with a smirk and humor shining in his eyes. “One million years as my personal guard. Another one and a half million as my General. In all that time, you never once asked to speak as my friend.”

Korac hid his wince. Their relationship suffered from a power disparity, but he always considered the King that saved him akin to a friend.

A shift surged through Nox, erasing the cruelty so innate in the planes of his face. “Here at the last, you have my permission to do so.”

The last?

“We’ll start with the matter of your missing shirt.”