She held the thought, feeling the pricklings of consciousness around her sink back into sleep. It was working – the resurrection had been reversed. But there was something else she had to do. What was it?

A memory of Gadreel’s sarcophagus came to her. The gas. Somehow, she sensed a source of the toxic yellow miasma above her, produced within Uluru itself by a process she didn’t understand or have time to think about. All she knew was that she had to release it—

It happened. The energy flow shifted, tripping some Veteres-made mechanism – and the gas began to gush into the top of the chamber.

The mechanism was linked to another. The large door at the chamber’s entrance began to lower, starting to seal it off from the rest of the chasm.

And she was still inside.

The thought snapped her back to reality. She withdrew the key and struggled to stand. The door inched shut. She had to get to it before it closed – or the gas reached her.

She looked up. A vile yellow cloud roiled downwards, already past the top ledge and swallowing the uppermost ranks of prisoners. The running warrior reacted in surprise as he saw it—

The fog reached him. He gasped, staggering – and fell over the edge.

He hit the side of the path two orbits below, neck snapping with a horrific crack. His limp body rebounded into the chamber’s open centre, falling another thirty feet before smashing down on the spiral – right above Nina.

She tried to run, but her battered body was slow to respond. The Nephilim’s broken corpse tumbled over the side – straight at her—

The punishing impact swept her from the ledge. She fell – on to a glassy stalagmite on the lower turn.

It stabbed through her left calf like a spear. She screamed – then her breath was pounded out as the dead warrior landed on top of her. Another spike punched through his torso, pinning him in place.

Nina gasped for air. His weight bore down relentlessly on her chest. She pushed, but he didn’t move. Darkness closed in again.

The door was still lowering, the gas drifting downwards. She turned her head towards the entrance, hoping against hope that Eddie or Cheng would appear to help her—

Instead, she saw Gadreel marching across the bridge.

The horror of utter defeat hit her. He was not alone.

He had Macy, gripping her raised wrist. His baraka was slung over one shoulder, a trikan in his other hand. Shock crossed his face as he saw his wife’s body – then rage as he spotted Nina.

His march became a run, dragging Macy with him.

Nina tried again to move, but only managed a breathless scream as her wounded leg muscles strained and tore. The dead Nephilim still trapped her. Panicked, she tried to focus. How could she stop Gadreel – and save herself?