Antares tore apart a section of protective sheeting that covered a sensitive area of wires, and used that as added protection. Laser beams and bullets tore into anything they tried to put between themselves and the enemy.

“Lookout’s sending us messages.”

“A way out of this?” Tristan asked, through grit teeth.

“No,” Antares said.

“I don’t know how you can read and fight at the same time.”

“I shouldn’t have,” she said, and her voice was dark.

They’d managed to beat a fighting retreat to the next major intersection. Rounding the corner bought them a bit of reprieve from incoming fire, which let them erect a more confident defense. Ceiling was torn down and rock wall was drawn out, thick and solid.

“It’s bad news,” Tristan said, quiet.

“We don’t know anything for sure yet,” Antares said, setting her jaw.

There was a heavy bang as an explosive detonated against the wall. They backed up a few steps and Tristan created a second later.

While he worked, he commented, “Except Lookout’s upset because she knows, isn’t she?”

“We don’t know,” Antares said.

“Alright. I don’t want to know, so that’s perfect for me. I’m sick enough over Byron, he was at the very edge of passing out when he swapped to me, what if I switch to him and that’s it? But I can’t—I can’t not.”

“It’s okay,” Antares said.

“It’s really not.”

“I’ll rephrase. Yes, it scares the daylights out of me, I can’t imagine how you feel, but it’s a problem for later. Yes?”

Tristan clenched a fist, then nodded.

“I don’t mean to be a bitch, but—”

“No. It’s right. Makes sense. Plan?”

Antares went on, “We have options. But I can’t do this. This right here. We can’t do this. We’re pinned down, and I’m supposed to go after Teacher. We should make a break for it.”

“I’m supposed to hold the chokepoint.”

“You held it.”

He shook his head, and then turned to face the wall.

“Now’s not the time to be stubborn. You don’t sacrifice yourself because your brother might not be okay.”

“Giving up the chokepoint means they come right after us. That’s sacrificing all of us.”

The speakers crackled, and then music began to play, an aria, with light instrumentals.

“Master–stranger,” Tristan said. “That’s getting to me. I think. It might be—”

“It’s a power,” Victoria said. “Working full strength through tech.”

The intensity of the assault on the far side of the wall had died down. There was a buzz of communication.

“I think it’s from our side. Swansong’s cape with the yellow costume… there aren’t a lot of them. Most would be Advance Guard, but they’d be together, not with Valkyrie. I think that’s Canary.”

“The celebrity?”