My thoughts are cut off as the metal panel that is riveted to the library’s front door begins to disappear, from the center out. I have to blink a few times to make sure I’m really seeing it. The thick, protective metal just evaporates, turning to tiny fragments of dust and blowing out into the storm.

As the metal peels away completely, I see, standing there in the machine-sent downpour, carrying an enormous gun that is strapped around his waist, Tyco Roth.

I stare at the boy’s deranged, grinning face as he scans the room, and I notice that his eyes aren’t lit up—Happy is not controlling him in this moment.

Tyco raises a hand from the gun—which must contain Deleter technology in bullet form, judging by what it did to the door—and points a finger at me.

“Luka Kane,” he says, just loud enough for me to hear him over the timpani roll of rain. “I’m going to kill you.”

Someone rushes past me, drops to one knee, and aims one of the old-fashioned USWs at my former prison mate.

Without taking his eyes off me, Tyco adjusts the aim of his Deleter gun and fires.

I hear the clatter of the USW hitting the varnished floor of the library, and Akimi making a strange sound. “Ah, ugh, ah.”

I look down. The Deleter round has struck her right hand, which has already disappeared as she holds it up to her face.

“Ahhh, ahh, what … ahh, what’s happening?”

I run to Akimi and drag her away. By the time I’ve reached the center of the room, her arm has vanished up to the elbow.

“It doesn’t hurt,” she says, almost fascinated as she watches the progress of the Deleter tech erasing her.

“Abril!” I call out, and the doctor leaves Sam’s side and rushes over to us, skidding down onto her knees, sending puddled rainwater splashing up on either side of her.

“What fresh hell is this?” she asks, wide-eyed. “Get her to the bathroom—we need to amputate, and do not touch the light.”

I look to the remaining part of Akimi’s arm and see that there is a light tracing its way up toward her shoulder, leaving nothing but dust behind.

Sam’s screams reach a new high as labor ramps up.

Akimi begins to repeat the same word over and over, her terrified voice almost childlike. “Wait, wait, wait …”

From the doorway, Tyco calls, “Luka Kane, you and I need to have a little chat.”

“Wait,” Akimi continues, her voice slowing now.

The attack drones hover in the remains of the shattered roof, the soldiers’ commands echo out from the tunnels, and Tyco stands in the empty doorway, the rain drenching him.