THE SHAPE IN ORBIT

Citadel Nine became a throat swallowing panic.

Scientists flooded toward evacuation lifts. Soldiers moved against them, climbing toward surface batteries. Somewhere above, the city shook itself apart one district at a time.

Ren'ō escorted Laana to the Divine Integration Laboratory with eight soldiers. Four reached the door.

The others died when a transit tunnel folded inward like crushed paper.

Laana did not look back. Ren'ō did. He memorized every face because someone had to.

Inside the laboratory, the Remnant burned brighter than the emergency lamps. Containment rings spun around the glass cylinder. Numbers cascaded across every display.

"Final synthesis has started," Laana said. "Once the lattice stabilizes, the divine architecture can be transferred."

"To whom?"

She did not answer.

Ren'ō caught her wrist. "Laana."

"A compatible host."

"There is only one person on this planet your machine likes."

"I know."

The floor lurched. A crack split the far wall, revealing orange sky and burning towers beyond.

Ren'ō released her.

"You said no one would have to."

"I was wrong."

"You are rarely wrong. I preferred it when you were arrogant."

"I am still arrogant. I believe I can make you survive."

He stared at her.

Laana's expression hardened, but grief moved beneath it. "If he reaches the Remnant, every system he erased stays dead. If the synthesis works, you may be able to stop him someday."

"Someday is doing a great deal of work in that sentence."

"Ren'ō, listen to me. This is not about making you a weapon."

"Everything becomes a weapon when frightened people are desperate enough."

Her hand closed around his. "Then remain a man."

The laboratory doors buckled inward.

Ren'ō turned.

The four surviving soldiers formed a line behind him. None asked whether they could win. They knew.

Ren'ō checked his rifle, then looked once over his shoulder.

Laana stood beside the glowing vial as machinery screamed around her.

"Finish it," he said.

"Ren'ō-"

"You told me soldiers arrive after the shell lands."

The doors bent again.

"This time," he said, "I am already here."

The doors exploded.

The War God stepped through smoke and molten steel as if entering an empty room.

His hair was divided between midnight black and cold white, both colors flowing in the heat. Red geometric pupils turned past the soldiers and fixed on the Divine Remnant.

He sighed.

"How tiring," he said.

Ren'ō raised his rifle.

"You came a long way to complain."

Then the last soldiers of Citadel Nine opened fire.