The forty-eight hours ran out at 6 AM.
Everyone waited.
The military had drones over every district. News helicopters circled the bay where the fortress had crashed six months ago. The government had set up blast shelters under three major subway stations. Schools were closed. The highway out of the city was a sixteen-kilometer parking lot of people who'd decided the countryside was a better place to be.
At 6:01 AM, nothing happened.
At 6:15 AM, nothing happened.
At 7:00 AM, one of Malvorn's hunter drones — a small reconnaissance unit that had been clinging to the underside of a bridge in District 7 — simply dropped into the water.
Not shot down. Not destroyed.
Deactivated.
By 8 AM, every Helix signal in the city had gone dark. Clean. Total.
The news called it a victory.
By noon, people were in the streets. Not rioting — celebrating. Someone started selling Malvorn's face on t-shirts near the bay. The government held a press conference where a man in a suit used the word "deterrence" six times.
Aeva had the news on while she worked.
Kazuki watched it with his arms folded.
He hadn't smiled once.
"You should be relieved," Elena said.
"Renji told me something," Kazuki said. "He said the most dangerous thing an enemy does is the move that looks like nothing."
Elena looked at the screen. The celebrating crowds. The man in the suit saying "deterrence" again.
"You think this is a move," she said.
"I think Malvorn didn't get where he is by giving up because a teenager with a broken arm dropped his fortress in the bay." Kazuki stood. "He retreated because someone told him to. And whoever that someone is — they have a better idea."
He picked up his jacket.
"Where are you going?" Aeva asked.
"To think."
He got to the door. Stopped.
"Rina," he said without turning around. "When did Kenji go missing?"
A pause.
The kind of pause that means the person is deciding whether to lie.
"Two days ago," Rina said. Her voice gave nothing away, but her hands were still in her lap and she hadn't reached for her phone in twenty minutes.
Which meant she already knew there was nothing on it.
"You should have told me," Kazuki said.
He left.
Outside, the city was celebrating something it didn't understand.
[To Be Continued...]