{Enki | New Cinder}

Razor, Gait, and the Aegis?

Gone.

1. Capra mine?

Buried.

Monarch 3 gas farm?

Lost.

Para and Karter?

Released.

Rayne?

Freed.

All casualties Imminent had suffered in the past few months while Celindria failed to make further advancements with the volition, memory, and Seamswalking research. Per usual, there was hardly any reaction from her at all. Three Two Four—Razor—was the most brilliant mind in the galaxy, and she possessed so little emotion in her body to spare concern for the genius upcycled into their enemy’s hands.

He could give them the key to Ishkur.

Fortunately, Remorse knew Three Two Four well enough to trust his good sense. Any attempt by the Atheneum to gain intelligence through upcycling would result in subterfuge and further chaos for the Probability Matrix.

Imminent loved chaos.

Unless it disrupted their otherwise harmonious existence. Like now.

In the tremendous canyon separating Li Mountain from a column of jutting plateaus, Celindria flitted about the black rock with remarkable agility, dodging Remorse’s powerful strikes, which laid waste to the mountainside. Sometimes she appeared low. Sometimes she appeared above his sixty-five foot advantage. Each evasion was faster than he could see.

How was she moving like this?

Remorse was testing her, of course. Celindria had never formed wings. Clearly, she’d held out on him either in her advancements of the Seamswalking technology or in her own personal abilities.

Even more confounding, Celindria’s eyes remained the usual vibrant blue without shifting into Atramentous, despite her Icarean heritage.

Rage ignited Remorse’s black blood. He reached for her, knowing she’d evade below, and stomped exactly where she flitted to.

The murderous angel in her flowing white gown disappeared beneath his boot with a satisfying crunch. Her cry was an avian howl, which pierced through the canyon like the sweetest birdsong in Remorse’s ear holes—

Something shifted.

No.

Impossible.

Remorse gave all his strength to that boot, and still it lifted. Higher and higher until it revealed the woman beneath. Ribs, an arm, and a shin bone protruded where he’d crushed her. No blood flowed from the injuries. Truthfully, he focused on the tediums to avoid her eyes.

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When Primary Rem finally met Celindria’s stare, he stepped back.

Nothing.

There was nothing there.

No rage or concern. Not even pride.

Remorse may as well have been fighting a statue. Her clothes were tattered and had peeled away from her, leaving Celindria almost exposed. She could care less.

Truly soulless.

There was no stifling the Primary’s shudder, revolted to his core. All the while, Celindria stared him down, the injuries healing before his eyes.

Somewhere in the recesses of his conscience, Remorse heard Vi’s laughter. He’d underestimated another woman.

“Go home, Rem.” Celindria’s voice was as empty as her heart. “I still have use of you, unless you wish to perish.” At the last, her eyes flicked upward toward the cliff.

Remorse followed her gaze and spotted Pax with his wings spread wide, ready. The sight broke Rem’s heart. That was his grandson, and the child was more attached to this bloodless abomination than his own blood.

So much.

In his long life, the Primary had lost so much. His wife and half their race to the unforgivable atrocity committed by the Aegis. Savis. Xelan. Three Two Four, who he came to see as a surrogate son. All the security and stability he’d established over the long years was dissolved in only a few months. And soon… Enki.

But not Pax.

That boy was Remorse’s chance to start again. With him, Primary Rem and Primary Bol could revitalize their research, hidden on a planet like Lukemore or Reipon. One with sympathizers of their depleting race. They’d take all the bulls with them and isolate those genes in Pax to recreate another Project Surra. One unable to speak or think for itself.

Then they could breed enough to re-conquer the Vast Collective.

Remorse turned his back on the empty person and reached out to his grandson. “Pax, I know how to retrieve your mother. Would you like that? Come with me, and we can help her together.”

Pax frowned and looked at Celindria for guidance.

Which turned the Primary’s stomach. He said, “C’mon, son. Uncle Nock is alive—”

Celindria showed the first sign of emotion in a decade when she gasped from behind.

“—He’s with Rayne.”

Despite the boy’s physical appearance of Earth-age seven or so, he still spoke like a four or five-year-old. “Auntie Rayne? In da box with her?”

Remorse smiled and held out his hand for Pax to jump into his palm. “She’s no longer in the Martyr Complex, and Nox is her shadow. Isn’t that fun?”

A beautiful grin blossomed on the boy’s face. “Silly. He not her shadow. He too big.”

Adorable. “Too true.” The brute was a massive beast. “But I saw it with my own eyes. If you come down, I’ll take you to see them.” For however long they still lived. Hopefully Abresson had finished evacuating the depositories by now—

Darkness loomed over Remorse, and he glanced up, expecting to find a cloud. Instead, he found the shade of the canyon stretching and casting over him.

How in Eternity was this happening—

Remorse spun around to the most disturbing sight he’d recalled since the Tritan females’ ship disintegrated before his eyes.

Celindria was gone. Only her eyes remained, held level in the shadows. They were bright in contrast to the shaded surroundings. All the rock was hidden beneath the gloom.

Tired of the spectacle, the Primary stomped on Celindria’s eyes. He expected a satisfying pop, like squishing two grapes, but nothing happened. When he lifted his foot, there was nothing there.

Celindria’s voice came to his ear in a whisper. “You should have informed me. Do you have any comprehension of what this new development means for the Probability Matrix?”

Remorse turned to the source of the words, but nothing was there.

It continued, undisturbed. “I was inclined to let you live, but you’ve proved as incompetent as Abresson. Good night, Remorse—”

He reached out to her previous location and squeezed into the shadow. There, the shade gathered in a tuft. From inside his fist came strangled noises.

Pax ran to the edge, eyes in Atramentous, ready to fly. “Sissy, no!”

“Shh, shh, Pax.” Remorse stared at his fist, feeling everything rectified within. “This isn’t Celindria in my hand. It’s a rodent to crush. No need to interfere. It’ll soon die.”

“Not today she won’t, father.”

Primary Rem’s heart dropped into his stomach as he whirled to face the only man fit to be his judge, jury, and executioner.

“Son.”