Chapter 90 Aaron
Aaron
Kade’s phone starts ringing.
Once.
Twice.
Then—
again.
And again.
A cascade of sound.
Different tones. Different lines.
All converging on the same moment.
He stares at it like it’s something alive.
Something turning on him.
Which, in a way—
it is.
He looks smaller now.
Not physically.
Structurally.
Like the architecture that held him up—
just collapsed.
His eyes flick to the door.
To the windows.
To me.
Calculating.
Searching for an exit that no longer exists.
Then he runs.
Instinct.
Human.
Too late.
Cal Johnson steps out of the shadows like he was always there.
No rush.
No anger.
Just inevitability.
The shot cracks—
sharp, contained.
Kade drops hard, a broken sound tearing out of him as he hits the ground.
Pain.
Real.
Immediate.
Unfiltered.
Jase steps forward, crouching slightly, watching him with something almost curious.
“You’re not dying,” he says.
Not reassurance.
Not kindness.
A statement.
Lucas moves in behind him, already securing the room, the exits, the system.
“You’re going to talk.”
Kade clutches his leg, breathing ragged now, control slipping with every second.
And for the first time—
He looks exactly like what he is.
Not a god.
Not a system.
Just a man.
And we took everything else away.