61. Jonah
Jonah
D arkness crashes over the room so fast it feels physical.
The overhead light explodes out with a sharp pop—
Then—
Nothing.
Black.
Absolute black.
The siren starts screaming a second later.
Red emergency lights flash somewhere deep in the corridor outside, pulsing through the broken doorway in violent bursts.
Enough to wreck vision.
Enough to turn shadows into movement.
“Night vision!” Lance barks.
My hand already moves for mine.
“Cal!”
“Working on backup systems!”
Static crackles through comms.
Then gunfire erupts somewhere above us.
Close.
Way too close.
The compound is waking up.
Fast.
I grab Sienna automatically, hauling her against my chest as another section of the hallway lights flashes red.
Her breath catches hard.
“Jonah—Elizabeth—”
“I’ve got her,” Lance snaps.
I glance over just long enough to see him cutting the restraints off the chair while keeping one hand on his rifle.
Efficient.
Controlled.
But tension rides every movement.
Because none of us know where Vale went.
The corner where he stood—
Empty.
Cold shoots straight through me.
“Contact missing!” I bark.
“Left side!” Cal shouts.
Movement.
Fast.
A silhouette cuts through the darkness near the far wall.
I swing instantly—
Finger tightening on the trigger—
“Don’t shoot!”
Vale.
He steps into the flashing red light with both hands raised again.
Calm.
Still too calm.
My rifle stays locked on his chest.
“You disappear again,” I tell him, “I put you down.”
His eyes flick toward Sienna.
Not me.
Always back to her.
“You need to leave. Now.”
“No kidding,” Lance mutters.
Another explosion rattles the ceiling overhead.
Dust rains down.
Elizabeth flinches violently at the sound.
Sienna immediately drops beside her.
“It’s okay,” she whispers, brushing shaking fingers through Elizabeth’s tangled hair. “You’re okay. I’ve got you.”
But Elizabeth grabs her wrist hard enough to stop her.
Fear floods her face.
“Sienna… he knows.”
My pulse spikes.
“Who knows?” Sienna asks.
Elizabeth’s eyes dart toward Vale.
Then toward the ceiling.
Like she’s afraid the building itself is listening.
“The Architect.”
Every muscle in the room tightens.
Even Vale goes still.
That tiny reaction tells me everything I need to know.
Cal hears it too.
“Oh, that’s bad,” he mutters through comms.
Very bad.
Because we’ve heard that name before.
Whispers only.
Fragments.
Ghost mentions buried in intercepted files tied to ORACLE.
No face.
No identity.
Just bodies left behind whenever someone got too close.
Sienna slowly rises to her feet.
“You told me ORACLE was shut down.”
Her voice shakes now.
Not with fear.
Anger.
Real anger.
Vale exhales slowly.
“It was supposed to be.”
“That’s not an answer!”
The siren keeps screaming.
Gunfire echoes again somewhere deeper inside the compound.
Closer this time.
The team outside is getting hit.
Hard.
“Jonah,” Cal says sharply in my ear, “we’ve got movement inbound from three corridors. You need extraction now.”
I step toward Sienna immediately.
“We’re leaving.”
But she doesn’t move.
Her eyes stay locked on Vale.
“You lied to me.”
Something painful flickers across his face.
“You were twenty-seven.”
“I was dying, because you tried to kill me!” she fires back.
The room goes dead quiet.
Even the siren seems farther away for one suspended second.
Jonah, focus.
But I can’t stop watching her.
Because the look on her face—
That isn’t fear anymore.
It’s betrayal.
Deep enough to bleed.
Vale takes one slow step forward.
“I saved your life.”
“You turned me into this!”
Sienna’s voice cracks apart on the last word.
And suddenly every piece starts sliding together inside my head.
ORACLE.
Sienna’s abilities.
Why she runs instead of fights.
Why she never sleeps.
Why she looks at computers like they’re loaded weapons.
Jesus Christ.
Whatever they did to her—
Vale was part of it.
I move beside her instantly.
Close enough our shoulders touch.
Not crowding.
Not controlling.
Just there.
A silent reminder she’s not alone now.
Her hand brushes mine briefly.
Tiny movement.
But intentional.
Then—
The compound speakers crackle overhead.
A distorted male voice fills the darkness.
Cold.
Pleasant.
Terrifying.
“Dr. Vale,” the voice says smoothly, “you’ve become difficult to contain.”
Every instinct I have screams danger.
Vale’s face drains of color.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for us.
Then the voice continues.
“And Miss Knox…”
Sienna goes rigid beside me.
“It’s time to come home.”