Chapter 7 · free to read
The court keeps no history of its defeats. It keeps memories, because memories can be locked in a drawer.
Incursion bells at the sixth hour. Every ward on the outer ring failed in the same minute. Somebody had thrown a lever.
There was no plan. There was a man who had spent twenty-eight years being unremarkable, and a hole in the sky, and nobody else standing in it.
It took four seconds. He did not raise his hands.
Artwork and narration generated with AI.