The rain hammered against the reinforced glass of the skyscraper in downtown Chicago. From the observation deck of the Tower Management Bureau, the city looked like a grid of cold, blinking lights. Below, the streets were choked with traffic, and the usual bustle of the evening commute continued, completely unaware of the shift in the atmospheric pressure.
Caleb gripped the edge of the railing. Beside him, Silas was checking the readout on his portable scanner. The device gave off a low, rhythmic beep that cut through the sound of the rain.
"The resonance is coming from the foundation of the old subway tunnels," Silas said. His voice was flat, devoid of its usual energy. "It's been building for three days. If we don't clear the civilian sector in the next hour, the stabilization field is going to trigger a localized collapse."
