Nightfalls.

  Seven shadows slip through a damp stone tunnel and emerge into the silver wash of moonlight.

  Moon Black halts the group with a raised hand. She presses a rough strip of bark against the stone wall. A crude map is carved into the wood.

  “Target: Night shake keep. A seven-story tower. Ten kilometers from here,” she whispers. “The tunnel puts us on the fifth floor. We climb to the seventh, secure the Golden Chuppah, and vanish before sunrise.”

  Her eyes sweep across the team. “No heroics. Stay tight.”

  They move.

  The Feather-Hat scans the tree line, her body low and fluid.

  The Veteran Professional leads the way, his hand resting on a loose blade.

  The Tactician murmurs distance and timing under his breath. A faint blue flicker pulses from the Spark-Fighter’s wrist, like a trapped lightning bolt.

  Uddin guards the rear, while Daisy stays just ahead of her.

  A bolt thuds into the dirt near the Veteran’s boot.

  “One,” he mutters. He vanishes into the shadows.

  A heartbeat later, a soft metallic whisper cuts through the air. Then, silence. He signals with a hand: Clear.

  They reach the tower and move fast. Minutes later, they emerge onto the fifth floor. The corridors are cold stone and empty of voices. Their boots hit the stairs in a controlled rhythm as they climb.

  On the seventh floor, the Feather-Hat eases the door open. She holds up two fingers. Clear.

  The Tactician kneels and dusts fine powder across the floor. “No light-trips,” he warns.

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  Uddin pushes the chamber doors open. In the center of the room, inside a glass case, rests the Golden Chuppah. It glows with a soft, celestial light. It is far too quiet for something so valuable.

  Daisy steps forward, but she hesitates. The air feels heavy.

  “Take it,” Moon Black orders.

  As Daisy reaches out, a shadow drops from the rafters. A veiled woman strikes at the exact moment Daisy’s fingers brush the glass. Blue energy snaps between their hands. Daisy jerks back, stung.

  Moon Black’s blade swings in a killing arc. The veiled woman twists away with unnatural speed. The blade misses and crashes into the glass case instead.

  A flash blinds them. The relic erupts. The chamber fills with a screaming blue light. When the light fades, the Golden Chuppah lies shattered across the floor in glowing dust.

  A siren begins to howl. The veiled woman is gone.

  Moon Black stares at the ruined fragments. "Fuck. We move!”

  They run. Boots hammer against the stone. Shouts echo from the floors below.

  “The wall!” the Tactician snaps, pointing to a crack in the outer corridor.

  Moon Black strikes the stone. It splits open, letting in the cold night air. They spill out into the forest just as armored soldiers pour into the hallway behind them.

  “Up,” Uddin growls. She drops low, and Daisy climbs onto her back.

  They sprint through the trees. Branches whip at their faces. Behind them, a massive one-eyed guard breaks through the brush, his pistol raised.

  “Drop me!” Daisy shouts. “I’m slowing you down!”

  “Not happening,” Uddin grunts.

  Gunfire erupts. Bark explodes from the trees inches from their heads. The Feather-Hat spins around and engages the guard. “Uddin, keep going!”

  The Spark-Fighter steps beside her, blue arcs of electricity flashing between the trees as they face the guard.

  The Veteran pulls a jagged shard of the shattered Chuppah from his pouch. The Tactician sees it and points to Moon Black. “Throw it!”

  The Veteran hurls the shard. Moon Black catches it mid-stride, rips a grenade from her belt, and flings them both at the charging soldiers.

  “Down!”

  The forest detonates. Blue light and black smoke swallow the path. The one-eyed guard slams into the ground, blinded.

  Through the haze, a hidden stone door grinds open in the hillside.

  A girl stands inside, her eyes sharp.

  “Uddin! Here!”

  The Birds scramble through the opening. The door seals shut just as the soldiers thunder past.

  Silence returns, smelling of burnt ozone. Moon Black leans against the wall, her jaw tight. “Who are you?” she demands.

  The stranger steps forward. “A thank you would be nice.”

  The Veteran Professional freezes. His voice falters. “She’s my—”

  “Wife,” the girl interrupts. Her eyes lock onto the group. “I’m his wife.”

  The group gasps in unison. “What?”

  Uddin steps forward, her eyes narrowing. “Tell us, when were you—”

  “Enough!” the Veteran snaps. “We’re divorced!”

  The girl chuckles. “We never signed the papers.”