What have we done?

“They sent Titan Valkyrie?” he asked.

“They did,” Dragon said.

He looked up. Dragon was there, in his ship, waiting for him.

She wrapped her arms around him. Metal on metal, in a way that felt more satisfying than anything. She held him as she told the bay doors to close, as she told the ship to rise up.

“You spooked me,” she told him.

“You’ve done that to me often enough. Where do we stand?”

She broke the hug, and she turned, the head of the body they’d designed and put together together looking out the front of the Uther.

The landscape was being overtaken by red. At the edges, where the light was brightest, the earth became crystal.

He fixed his eyes on the silhouette of Dauntless, now utterly still. On Titan Eve, who he hadn’t known. He had fought so damn hard to keep his place on his team. He had wronged Dauntless.

Dauntless had made the decision, knowing what was at stake.

“Where do we stand with who?” Dragon asked. “There’s a lot.”

“With the Machine Army?”

“Up to Saint, now.”

“Alternative measures? Plans that aren’t…”

“Antares sent out a message to the European and offworld capes.”

“And?”

“And they’re deploying. Valkyrie is using powers to bring them here.”

“Will they be able to stop this, or are we bringing them here to die?”

If Dragon’s silence didn’t already speak volumes, the red light that swelled below and around the Uther was answer enough.

⊙

The area was filled with noise, clamor.

She hadn’t had to send that message out to the offworld capes.

In a way, it had made things so much harder. It gave people hope, and that was the worst possible thing when hope wasn’t deserved, when it was too late. This was the last in a line of plans.

People were upset. They were arguing. Some felt the Simurgh winning would be better.

Defiant had fought the Endbringer too many times to agree.

Their arrival in the lobby drew attention. Chevalier was there too, but he was wounded from his fight with the Simurgh, and people were upset, anxious.

People got out of Defiant’s way as he approached. His sensors could track things, could hear.

Antares hummed. It was faint, like a tuning fork. Her teammates did the same.

Chevalier had balked. Maybe that was why people had hesitated, why they still thought there were other ways.

He used his size and presence to make a path, trusting people to get out of his way. He extended a hand.

Antares hesitated, seeing him reach out.

“I know,” he said.

“I’ve been trying to explain, there’s more to it.”

“No,” he said. “This is it.”

She looked him in the eye.

She took him by the hand.