Galen’s egomaniacal ramblings begin to fade as I increase the distance between me and the great hall, but the roar of the crowd after every declaration is a swarm of hornets filling the Arc relentlessly.

I’m in the belly of the beast now, I think, almost deliriously, as I sprint through the enemy’s base.

Finally, ahead, at the corner where this protracted corridor meets another, I see an elevator. I come to a skidding stop. The sign above reads, ELEVATOR: FLOORS 2–10. I see a door marked STAIRS beside it. I decide on the stairs, knowing that Happy has the capability of trapping me inside the metal box of the elevator if it becomes aware of my presence.

Before I push the door open, I see four beams of light wavering against the corner wall, growing steadily brighter and larger. My instincts tell me to shove the door open and sprint up the stairs as fast as I can—I know that the lights belong to the eyes of host soldiers. Instead, I move quietly, pushing the door slowly open to avoid any sound, but as soon as the door opens, it becomes clear that this is unnecessary, as a thunderous roar fills the room. I turn around to see that I’m in an enormous open ground-floor space. From here, I can see all the way to the top of the Arc. Through the middle of the building, an enormous waterfall cascades down, acting as a natural air conditioner. I can see the narrowing corridors of each level going up and up until they almost disappear near the top. There is nobody else here; all the Alts and all the hosts must be at Galen’s conference. All except the two that are patrolling the corridor on the other side of this door. I stand with my ear pressed against the wood, waiting and hoping that the hosts don’t come this same way.

From here, on the ground floor, I can hear Galen’s voice echoing through the building once more. I have to strain to hear the footsteps of the hosts over the crashing of the waterfall, but as they slowly pass by on the other side of the door, I can’t help but pick up on the words.

“… Thirty-seven men and women who protested the government’s decision to choose your lives over the lives of the Regulars stand before you here today. Thirty-seven men and women who tried to undermine our plan to save your lives and your family’s lives by warning the Regulars of what was to become of them.”

I struggle to pick up on every word that Galen is saying, but notice a wall-mounted SoCom unit and wave my hand over it. Suddenly, in front of me in perfect holographic projection, is Galen Rye. To his right, beside him on the stage, is a group of Alts, all of them with their hands magnetically cuffed behind their backs. When Galen speaks next, his voice is as clear as if I were in the room with him.