As the second crazed commando had raced toward Jack on his suicidal berserker-kamikaze run, Jack had hurled the first commando off him—banging the man’s head against one of the cupola’s pillars—and then he’d done something totally unexpected.

Something crazy, even by his standards.

He’d raced back into the cupola and, obscured by the obelisk, he’d thrown himself into the shallow pool with a splash. Then he lay face-up—with his Maghook pointed up as well.

Then he cracked the hourglass of greystone powder he’d taken from the dead Omega monk earlier and upended it into the pool.

After that, he held his breath.

As the berserker commando reached the cupola, the water in the pool beneath the obelisk turned grey, then black and then, with a crack, it hardened completely . . .

. . . and the commando arrived with a crazed shout, stabbing the explosive orbs on his chest . . .

. . . and blew himself to pieces.

Blood sprayed everywhere. Both his blood and that of the dazed first commando, who was also torn apart by the explosion.

It splattered against everything: the obelisk, the floor and Jack’s helmet on the bridge.

The columns were turned to dust and the cupola’s cracked domed roof fell onto the obelisk and the fountain, only now the pool at the base of the fountain was solid greystone.

And inside a form-fitting tomb within that new slab of greystone—having successfully shielded himself from the terrible blast with the layer of stone—was Jack West Jr.

At that point, Jack was essentially buried alive.

Inside the now solid greystone, it was totally dark and terrifyingly claustrophobic. Solid rock encased him.

The only thing Jack could hear was his own close breathing. He didn’t have much time: he would suffocate soon, especially if he kept panting so hard.

But he did have one thing.

He had his Maghook pointed upward.

And so he fired it.

Whump!

It slammed into the greystone slab above him, only travelling a couple of inches, not even fully escaping its launcher, but creating a few minor cracks.

He reeled it in with a press of his trigger finger, and fired it again.

Whump!

The cracks got bigger.

Whump! Bigger again.

And on the fourth powerful blow from the Maghook, it broke through . . .

. . . and Jack peeked through a slit in the greystone slab.

A few more shots from the Maghook and some careful wriggling got him out—he was fortunate that the obelisk had not crumpled completely, and had thus left him some room to slither out from under the fallen roof—and suddenly he was standing there in the crumpled cupola, alive.

He ran out of the ruins, heading for the black tower, stopping, of course, to scoop up his fire helmet on the way.

Zoe and Lily released Jack from their embrace and they all looked at the golden cage in the centre of the stone circle.