Fall of the Spectrum

Chapter Twenty-Three

Gwen exited the ethereal console's main menu, too distracted by nerves to properly study the updated Spectrum schematics Forneus had given her access to. Every walkway, corridor and level seemed a blurred patchwork before her eyes, indistinguishable from the others despite the various workings being colour coded.

Tapping the tile that would pull the console back into the floor with her toe, Gwen settled into one of the armchairs, willing her jangling nerves and her quick shallow breaths to calm.

With the new moon only two weeks away, she was beginning to panic. It had taken her two days to recover after restoring Vajra and Osiris's Crown, and while she'd wanted nothing more than to bury herself under her blankets in despair—feeling as if she alone were responsible for the current crisis, in spite of everyone else's assurances to the contrary—she knew she couldn't afford to.

Besides, there was still time to set things right. If she gave into self-pity now, what good would that do Asclepius, Astral, or the rest of the captured Fifth Unit operatives? What good would come of beating herself up if she didn't at least try to get the artifacts back?

None. If they failed—if she failed—her world and every other under the High Council's protection would go down with them. In all of the disorder, there were only two things keeping hope alive. One, the Amethyst of Unity; the very artifact that, upon Gwen's touch, had started this whole thing. And two, Gwen's own seal.

If they could ensure that her seal and the Amethyst's were restored before the new moon, Apophis's plans—and by extension, Reeves' and Iris's, as well—would be nullified. Nowhere would be returned to its prison realm status, and with it, all those captured would be locked within its borders once again.

And, Phenex had confided in her, anyone left over would wish they'd come along peacefully when they'd had the chance. Now that Nowhere's escapees had had adequate time to regain the powers lost to them upon incarceration, neither the Regulations Force nor the council were taking any more chances. Lesser criminals, Gwen knew, would find themselves taking up residence in the parts of the Underworld reserved just for that purpose. But as to those who had escaped from Nowhere, the absolute worst of the criminal forces hell-bent on destroying anything and everything in their path?

Any not recaptured by the time the last seal was restored would be exterminated on sight.

At one time, Gwen might have blanched at the mere idea of ending a life, no matter how wicked that life might be. She might have even felt sorry for them, wondering just what had driven them to do the things they had done. But after seeing the atrocities they were capable of, and after experiencing some of them first-hand... Well, Phenex had said it best: Mercy was not something they deserved, nor a risk to be taken when stacked against the lives of the countless innocents they had otherwise threatened.

Still, it chilled her to know she'd come to accept that violence so easily, and she couldn't help wondering if somewhere out there, there was a soldier who was thinking the same things she was. How many military forces had Apophis's army crushed by now? How many had risen up to meet this strange, powerful threat only to be wiped out seconds later? How many had survived?

How many innocents had been caught in the crossfire?

Gwen pushed the thoughts away, fearing where they would lead.

Forcing herself to focus on more immediate concerns, Gwen rose from the chair on stiff legs, mentally cursing Phenex for the three-hour training session he had subjected her to the night before. Then expelling a fortifying breath, she made her way over to the dresser, where she began pulling out what articles of clothing she would need for the day, carefully arranging them at the foot of the bed before fetching the ethereal blades from the top drawer.