“I did, ma’am, I swear! I don’t know how?—”
“Shut it down! NOW!”
Nova’s eyes flicked to the chaos unfolding behind me, then snapped back to mine. Her brow creased. “Zaffir…” she whispered. “What did you do?”
I didn’t need to lie to her. She already knew.
“Please, Nova,” I whispered. “Let me go.”
Joree’s panicked voice rang out. “I can’t! The feed’s hardcoded, I’m locked out!”
My body was already shifting to bolt, but Nova wouldn’t move. I could see the war she was fighting in her mind.
“You didn’t,” she said, voice tight.
“I had to,” I whispered.
She blinked, her jaw trembling for half a second.
“They’ll kill you for this,” she said.
“I know.”
“Did those guards just kill a Challenger?!” Someone screamed from behind us.
The room plunged into a stunned, electric silence.
“Cut the feed before they see anything else!”
I stopped cold. Every muscle in my body turned to stone. My lungs refused to work. I twisted, desperate to see the feed, to catch a name, a face,anything.
But instead, I saw her. Archon Veritas. Her face was twisted into fury, icy, righteous, seething with betrayal.
“It was him,” she hissed. “Stop him!”
I turned back to Nova. Our eyes locked.
She didn’t say anything.
There was a moment, a small, sacred beat of silence between us. Then she nodded once. Slow. Reluctant. But resolute.
“Get out of here,” she whispered.
Then, without warning, she lunged forward. But her move was choreographed, telegraphed a second too long. Her hand barely grazed my shoulder before I twisted, easily ducked under her arm, and sprinted down the left corridor.
Behind me, I heard her shout, “He headed right!” But there was no heat behind it. Just the sound of someone trying to give me a head start.
She let me go.
And I knew—no matter what happened next—Nova had just chosen a side.
Mine.
Ours.
The Runaways.
And if she could choose us. Maybe we stood a fighting chance.