{Earth}

When Silence’s carbon gray eyes opened, Andrew, the Progeny known as Conscience, flipped his coin. In truth, several hundred thousand coins flipped at once. Silver dollars, half dollars, and quarters. All from his hand. And they landed on the coin’s edge. Every. Time.

That was new.

“She’s awake. Hey, are you okay?” Doc Pablo rushed over with his med kit and checked all her vitals.

Lynn, keeping her distance, called from across the room, “How do you feel?”

Twenty-One stayed sitting on the floor against the far wall, but he peered through the tight-knit group with unveiled concern. He was a nice Icarus, and his intentions never matched his genocidal history.

Devis. Well, the First Wave Progeny suffered from an extreme case of paranoia. Perfectly understandable, given his life until now. He glared at the female in question through narrowed eyes. Every muscle in his body went rigid with the intense need to defend himself or hide. Andrew went in for a quick check of his intentions.

One mistake. That’s all it would take. One mistake, and I’m back in Celindria’s lab. I’d rather die.

Intense.

Smith leaned against the wall closest to Silence and hid a knowing grin. After all, he was the one to say the magic word.

Atheneum.

Question was, what exactly did he trigger? Was she a sleeper? Or was it some spooky Progeny coincidence shit?

As the hustle and bustle carried on in the room, Andrew shifted through the Probabilities. They frayed at his vision and blurred his reality. Made it more difficult for him to stabilize. Last week, Kyle traveled through Andrew’s memory to sort his proper existence from the fringe ones. But it was near time for a refresher, and the other Progeny were currently out of commission. The coin let Andrew improvise and practice sifting through realities.

Until it came to Silence. This was the only Probability where she even existed, and that made it new. New meant unpredictable. Unpredictable wreaked chaos in the Probability Matrix. At least, that’s how Tumu explained it way back when. In a different reality, of course.

So no cheating this round. Every instance of choice from hereon established a new Probability—a new reality—centered on Silence.

The warrior female sat up on the edge of the cot. Her rough-chopped black hair framed her face with a blue stripe front and center. The Doc’s scrubs didn’t fit her long limbs and bared her midriff. Her dark gray complexion reminded Andrew of Karter, the only other Icarean female with a similar enough description to consider them potential family. He made a note to check into that later. Right now, he held his breath—

“I remember.”

—For that confession from Silence.

Pablo scooted back to give her some space. “You regained your memory?”

That aforementioned dark complexion paled dramatically. She scrunched her hands in her hair and squeezed her eyes shut. The obvious distress curled her into a ball of trauma. The Doc removed his lab coat and slipped it over her shoulders.

While Silence sorted through her restored memory, Andrew sought her intentions. Nothing serious that might impose on her frail mental state. A little brush was all—

Whoa.

I love them. I can’t let this define me. I will be loyal. I will protect them. My daughter. How could I abandon her—

That was more than enough. “We should give her some space.” Andrew glanced at Devis, who raised a brow. Andrew nodded reassuringly. The other man relaxed and folded his dark arms, leaning against a table. They both looked at the monitor.

Kyle stood in the center of the Faraday cage, chained in nacre cuffs behind his back. The Progeny never stood so rigidly with a soldier’s posture.

Conscience gripped his chain. Should he risk himself? Quickly run in and check Celindria’s intentions. Run out. No biggie. He wished Rayne was here. She’d hold the bitch down and—

“Let me in.”

“Is that the Executive Warden of Gait?” Twenty-One kept his butt on the floor, but craned to glimpse the monitors.

Lynn stepped over to them to see.

Sure enough, the Lyrik stood outside the conduit to the Arsenal’s entrance. Even under that downpour, her hardened eyes burned.

Smith whistled and observed, “She looks pissed.”

Devis snarled, “I hate her.” Oh. Andrew almost forgot Pehton returned the First Wave Progeny to Celindria.

“She wants in the Arsenal?” Pablo sounded incredulous and a little intrigued. That scientist in him.

The First Wave Progeny shook his head. “No way. Not happening.”

“I run this Arsenal,” Lynn reminded him with a hand on her hip.

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He wilted under her glare.

Andrew needed the Lyrik’s kind of fury. “Let her in. And I’ll go in with her.”

Pablo nervously licked his lips while Lynn watched him do it before asking, “Is that such a good idea?”

Twenty-One offered, “We need to make progress. I’m not sure how she could escape, but I feel as if Celindria grows more dangerous the longer she’s locked in a cage.”

Astute, that one. “Lynn. Please.” Andrew wished this wasn’t so groundbreaking.

Devis glared at them, but kept his mouth shut. He huffed indignantly when Lynn nodded her assent. The Chief ordered on the comms device, “Allow onetime entry.” She supplied another disposable string of code words and numbers until they permitted Pehton to join the group in the sub-levels. Once the Lyrik reached the Faraday cage’s entrance, Lynn entered with a nacre rifle trained on the Kyle while Twenty-One opened the door. Pehton fumed the entire way through. Celindria never spared the other woman a glance.

Harsh way to treat an ex.

Once inside, Pehton briefed them on the situation with the nacre humans v natural humans protesters. “And that’s all. I don’t have long before I return to Gait. It’s messed up there, too. Anyway, I mostly just wanted a chance to beat the shit out of the First Progeny. With your permission, of course.”

Andrew discretely checked her intentions… and came back with nothing. The Lyrik, designed by the Tritans as a perfect warden, provided no reflection of her inner thoughts.

Interesting.

Chief Lynn leaned a hip against a counter and examined Pehton. Eventually, the young woman explained, “We want to extract some information from her first—”

“That will never happen.” The Executive Warden held up her hands to apologize for the interruption. “She will never tell you anything that she doesn’t want you to know. Please trust me. Every word out of her mouth, every drop of information, is venom and leads to a trap. You should know that by her still being here. She can leave at will.”

They all turned to Devis for confirmation. He rolled his eyes, but eventually agreed. “This process is as new to me as it is to you. But she’s right. If Celindria’s here, it’s because she desires it so.”

“I guess we need to get rid of her then,” Smith suggested, passing one hand over his thick brown hair. The eyeliner worked for him, but Lucas didn’t need to know Andrew noticed that.

Silence groaned with her head buried in a pillow, curled in a ball.

The Doc placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder before peering at them. “Is there anyway we can do that without disabling his nacre? We don’t really want him incapacitated if we can help it.”

“Oh, allow me.” The Lyrik vibrated with enthusiasm—No. Not enthusiasm. Anticipation. She wanted in there.

At his nod, she and Andrew stepped into the cage. Without hesitation, he swept the intentions inside Kyle.

Warn them. She can’t be trusted. She’s full of lies.

That was all. No intentions came from Celindria. Andrew took some comfort that they made the right decision. An interrogation of Celindria was a waste of time. Looking into the empty nothing behind Story Taker’s green eyes, Conscience resisted a shiver. His no-relation brother and best friend wasn’t at the wheel. Still, those bones carried his muscles and skin in a regal posture fit for a king.

“Celindria.”

“So good to see you, Conscience.” Straight back and chin high. Unwavering.

Andrew stayed by the door while Pehton circled her prey like a vulture. It was worth a shot for him to ask, “Where’s Andruis?”

The stiff tilt of Kyle’s head turned Andrew’s stomach. Avian. Foreign. Bizarre. “Who?”

This wasn’t an interrogation. It was a show. But they knew so little. His voice hardened with resolve. “How are you associated with Silence? Why do you want the shield and the sword? What does this have to do with Rayne?”

The shield, developing codename for a virus Pablo cultivated to render nacres impenetrable to outside manipulation. Including upgrades. The sword, a weapon Lynn designed to disable nacres. Both brilliant. Both dangerous. They believed Imminent either meant to disable Rayne’s nacre permanently, or permanently lock her nacre into Weapon state. This would subject her to life as a bomb with only a three-day fuse. Tragic.

Celindria transformed Kyle’s body to stone. A statute. She would never answer their questions.

Well, Andrew could play. “Kyle got too close, didn’t he?”

One painful centimeter at a time, Celindria shifted Kyle’s gaze to him.

Andrew nodded and took a step closer, ticking off the assumptions on his fingers. “That’s right. Helping Korac and Pehton. Solving the nacre memory drive decryption. My guide through the Probability Matrix. If you can’t have him, you want his nacre disabled. You want that for all of us.”

There. Maybe she feigned it, but Kyle’s eyes widened slightly. After a long, thoughtful pause, Celindria answered through their brother’s voice, “I wasn’t aware of your curious affliction, Conscience. As for nacre memory decryption, I wanted the drive I left you solved. As for Korac and Pehton, that is more the Mother’s and the Tribunal’s crusade than my own. I’m afraid my motives escape you.”

“I’m done.” Pehton rolled her eyes and clicked her tongue. “This woman’s bullshit haunted me for millions of years. You hear me, Eminent?” She grabbed Kyle by the throat. “Get out before I destroy his nacre.”

Celindria contorted the features of his face into something smug and spiteful. “No, lover.”

The room filled with the smell of kerosene as Pehton’s feathers smoldered, and her eyes glowed red. “This is an investment you don’t want harmed. Look in my eyes and tell me you believe I’d pass up on even the slightest chance you’d feel what I’m about to do to him. You know better than anyone what I’m capable of.” Flames erupted from the Lyrik’s orange mane.

Andrew backed against the wall, ready to take cover.

Strangled and desperate, Kyle’s voice howled, “I relent.” When he sagged in the small woman’s grip, she let him fall to the floor.

Doc Pablo wasted no time charging into the room, but hesitated at the door. He peered from Pehton to Andrew.

Conscience shrugged. “Don’t look at me.”

Pehton faced them both with her hands on her hips. “Celindria always feared the Siren’s Gale.” With a wink, the combustion suppressed until nothing but smoke filled the air. The tiny woman nonchalantly examined her fingernails, impressed with herself. “I am the only Lyrik to master it.”

“That was so cool, but we need to check on Kyle now,” Lynn called from the observation room.

Pablo already began the examination and prescribed, “He needs fluids, food, and to feed. Any volunteers?”

They all turned and looked at Silence. Smith supported her out of the observation room. Her usual confidence wilted under the weight of her regained memory. Andrew reached out and gently squeezed her shoulder. “How ya doing?”

“I am Imminent.”

He let go as if her skin burned him. Quiet followed. Not a sound. The air sucked out of the cage. Hell, the entire arsenal became a vacuum from the what-the-fuckness of the last hour. Celindria’s reticence. Lyriki combustion. Now this.

Silence set her jaw and finished her confession in that deep voice of hers. “I want none of this. But I speak the truth. I am in league with so many powerful figures across the Twelve Worlds—Elden, there is no end. So many operations and alliances. But they’re unlike the Shadow. There’s no strength in their relationships. No hope. Just chaos. I have more faith in all of you than the entire Vast Collective. I can help. With me, you can build the perfect defense.” At the last, she gripped the chain around her neck borrowed from Kyle—No—Earned.

The Icarean female begged this of Andrew, who glanced around the room. Everyone peered at him, bewildered and lost. He understood. And with them in uncharted waters—a completely fresh line of Probability—he felt the same. Only one option came to mind, and he hoped she wouldn’t hold it against him.

“Get Kyle travel-ready. It’s time to see Rayne.”