The glow of Stallia’s fiery hands dimmed, but the heat lingered in the room. The tactical map spread across the table was crowded with red flags—churches, sanctuaries, holy sites. One location stood apart.

  Greenmount Cemetery.

  A thick red circle marked it, bold and unmistakable.

  Stallia stood motionless, lips moving in quiet scripture as if drawing power from the air itself. Her voice was low, fervent.

  “Shout it. Go scream it from the mountains. That He is God.”

  The words hung heavy, reverent.

  The door creaked open.

  Two officers stepped inside. Haze avoided her gaze, his hand wrapped tightly in fresh bandages. Walton stood straighter than necessary, tension betraying him.

  Stallia turned slowly. Her eyes glowed faintly, fire flickering with her mood.

  “Where is the cube?” she asked.

  Her voice was calm. Ice-cold.

  Haze swallowed. His lips trembled.

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  Stallia’s gaze dropped to his hand. A slow smile spread across her face.

  “Ah,” she murmured, stepping closer. “The Ordained.” Her eyes narrowed with interest. “You’ve had a brush with the divine, haven’t you?”

  Haze winced, pulling his hand back instinctively.

  “It wasn’t—”

  The door burst open.

  Boots thundered across the floor as Chief Dubose strode in, his presence filling the room. His uniform was immaculate. His expression was anything but.

  “You should’ve sent me,” Dubose growled.

  The walls seemed to vibrate with his voice.

  Stallia turned to face him, unshaken. The glow in her eyes faded, replaced by cool defiance.

  “You have far more important tasks, Chief,” she said smoothly, gesturing to the map.

  Dubose approached the table. His gaze moved across the red flags, then stopped at the circled location.

  “And what if the Holy Scroll doesn’t exist?” he asked.

  The tension sharpened.

  Stallia smirked and leaned forward.

  “Oh, it exists,” she said. “Faith, Chief, is the substance of things hoped for. The belief in things unseen.”

  Dubose said nothing. His jaw tightened.

  He reached down, plucked the red flag marking St. Neri Phillip from the map, and crushed it in his fist.

  “I’ll start with this one.”

  His voice was a low growl.

  Stallia’s smile widened. Pride and malice flickered together in her eyes.

  “Good,” she whispered. “Let them feel the weight of your resolve.”

  Dubose turned and strode out. Walton and Haze stepped aside, watching him go. The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing like thunder.

  Stallia remained.

  Her fingers traced the circle around Greenmount Cemetery. Her smile faded into thought.

  “Faith,” she murmured. “The belief in things unseen… but soon to be revealed.”

  She opened a drawer beneath the table and withdrew an ornate dagger, its blade etched with ancient symbols. Light danced along the metal as she turned it in her hand.

  Then she drove it down into the map.

  The dagger sank deep into Greenmount Cemetery.