The timer in the palace war room kept falling, its numbers steady and rude. One hundred eighty-one days, twenty-three hours, fifty-eight minutes. The tower's thin, resonant hum came through the armored windows like a string pulled too tight, a constant reminder of the deadline.
"We go in teams," Rachel said first, her voice sharp and decisive. "Standard stack. Redeemers lead with sealed lanterns. We clean the base, and you write the entry sentence from a secure position."
"No," Luna said, her voice quiet but firm enough to command the room. "If I cross the threshold first, the tower will mock Purelight. If we cross as a 'we,' it will mirror that 'we' back at us, twisting our shared purpose into a weapon."
"Then I go," Seraphina offered, her presence like clean winter air. "I can scout, mark the lanes, and call you in when a path is clear."
"Or I do," Reika added, her expression unreadable. "I handle the rope. I am faster to pull you out if something goes wrong."
