A Juno, a Spirit, and a Decatur, standing in the dust of Sigurd’s graveyard. Between us, the last of the glassy wardens.

You killed one of them.

It spreads us out between its hands, turns us over. It watches us, holds us up where it can see.

You killed a warden, even if there are no words behind it.

Another file flows out across its nets; Cluster machines killing hollows under Hangar D, just as fast and just as sharp as Salt.

Oh.

The flood came to Horizon looking for weapons. And it found some.

The air turns back to hollow noise, but there are some things it leaves for us to understand. Barely. It shows us swells and tides, and the deaths of everyone who has ever done us harm. Us, this group of damaged things, looking down on all the faces of the drowned.

Come with me,

says the flood.

To the bottom of the sea.

BEHIND US, A gentle nudge from the Cluster, described in flashing light.

Brace.

THE CLUSTER READS the change before it hits, somewhere in all of the subtle vibrations of the ship.

Andrade has found something.

In the space between one reactor beat and the next, the Cluster plots us a path.

Horizon’s engines die, and the steady acceleration cuts away, leaves us weightless for nearly all of a second, every mass adjusting, trying to make up for the sudden change in gee.

But the Cluster is faster.

A rail-slug beats the hand that traps our blade. Two more from Hail, along the arm that holds our centre mass. Sigurd’s monster flails, leaves us afloat in a cloud of shattered armour and severed fingertips.

Bor is a sudden flare behind us, supernova bright. Her machine screams overhead, but we reach for her as she passes, and our hand grips hers for just a moment. We use her for leverage, and set our whole universe spinning, impossibly fast. Our blade comes around, still hanging in the air, heavy with the weight of Juno and Decatur and all the fire of our engines.

We see one thing before we hit:

Glassy eyes bright, looking up at us.

A flicker of recognition. At another part of us.

We hit so hard we warp the deck below us both, shatter our blade and hand and shoulder behind it.

And carve that blasted face in two.

THE OBSERVER SPUTTERS. Around us, hollows shriek and seize and shiver.