He starts swinging wildly, kicking out and twisting. The broken link bends a little. He torques, grunting with the effort.

He stops when he hears footsteps. Moments later, Gant walks in with a smile on his face, a smile that dims when he realises Danny is the only person here.

“Where are they?” he asks.

Danny swings from side to side, but doesn’t answer. Gant fixes him with a stare. “She’s here. Your usefulness is at an end. Allow yourself a few minutes more of life and tell me where they went.”

“Jeremiah took her,” says Danny. “Through there.”

A troubling frown crosses Gant’s face, and he strides from the hut.

Danny kicks his legs up in front, then swoops them behind. He starts swinging forward and back. With every swing, he kicks higher. The chain creaks. Kick in front, swoop behind. Kick and swoop. Higher and higher. He looks up as he swings. The broken link widens its jaws.

Kick and swoop. His shoulder is on fire. Kick and swoop. Kick and—

The world tilts, suddenly and without warning. The broken link gives way and he’s crashing to the floor. He rolls over, gets to his knees, but he can’t wait for his burning muscles to soothe. Up he gets, feeling returning to his arms. His hands are still cuffed, but his fingers are tingling. He flexes them until he’s sure he can grip, and then he picks up the sledgehammer.

He leaves the hut, limping only slightly, and steps on to a bridge suspended by chains. It sways under his weight, almost tips him into the sea of fire. He crosses, doing his best not to look down. He can still hear the screaming.

Danny gets to the platform ahead and takes the metal steps down. He pauses to wipe the sweat from his eyes, then continues on to where the steps flatten and meet a grille floor. More stairways and bridges lead off it. He leans over the railing, glimpses Gant on the level below him. It takes a moment to figure out the best way down, but when he has it, he hurries after him.

Hefting the hammer, he approaches a hut suspended entirely by chains. He can hear voices inside.

“The audacity,” Gant is saying. “The sheer audacity of you. I’d almost be impressed if I wasn’t so disappointed.”

Danny peers in. It’s a small room, with a heavy, bloodstained work table against the far wall. Valkyrie is on the ground, not moving. Gant is standing over her, his hands on his hips. Jeremiah stands with his back to the door, his shoulders slumped.

“No,” Jeremiah is saying, “I was just getting her ready for you, I was just—”

“I’ll tell you what you were just doing,” Gant snaps. “You were going to kill her. You were going to kill her and claim the credit all for yourself.”

“Mr Gant, no, I would never do—”