I coordinate the deployment of the UN prototype lander, telling Secretary-General Lin that we are conducting a routine deep-lunar geological mapping exercise to monitor the Vanguard fallout. He believes me. He has to. If the UN knew the true nature of the threat, they would panic, and panic is the one thing the Formless feeds on.
But the real burden lies in the preparation.
We spend the next twelve hours loading the lander with heavy, lead-lined crates containing Morgan’s quantum servers, thermal-regulation suits, and enough thermobaric charges to level a mountain.
I find Asher and Elara sitting beneath the newly planted oak tree in the central courtyard.
Asher is drawing in the dirt with a stick. Elara is sitting beside him, her small hands resting on his knee. They are quiet, entirel
