The air in the Subterranean Grid grew heavier, humming with the distant, oppressive pressure of the Veritas Protocol above. Lyra knelt, projecting the holographic schematics of Seraphiel's Command Nexus onto a grimy wall. The central hub was a dense, high-security fortress, but the data stolen from the Cathedra's black ledger revealed a flaw.
"The western flank," Lyra explained, tracing a faint line on the projection. "The Steam Vent Bypass."
The diagram glowed red—a network of archaic, high-pressure steam conduits running parallel to the data core. "It's rarely monitored. The ambient heat and noise are too intense for standard sensors, and the pressure is lethal to mortals. But it's our only clean entry point."
The Saint loomed over the schematic, his massive form barely contained by the shadows. The unified Sanctus/Veritas blade rested nearby, radiating a potent, swirling mix of crimson and white light.
"The physical defence is irrelevant," the Saint stated, his voice a low rumble. "My power can breach the steel. The danger is the spiritual detection. The Protocol is a giant net, and when I use my grace to enter, that net will snap shut."
Lyra met his gaze. The silver of his eyes was resolute, but the exhaustion beneath the surface was visible. The cost of maintaining the core's temporary seal was immense, and the thought of him having to fight a battle while his very essence screamed in protest twisted her gut.
"That's why we move now, and that's why we use the Shunt," Lyra countered, her tone sharp with professional focus.
She placed her hand on his armoured forearm, not in a rush to trigger the agonising, saving spark, but in a deliberate moment of pre-battle sincerity. "This isn't just your fight, Azael. We both walk the wire. I need you to be completely focused on the physical defence, and to trust that I will manage the spirit."
The Saint looked down at her hand, acknowledging the intimacy of the touch, the profound, agonising truth of their shared survival. "My trust is absolute, Lyra."
"Then show me," she challenged gently. "A final moment of conversation. You need every ounce of grace for the breach."
The Saint didn't resist. He settled his massive frame, allowing the familiar surge of white-hot pain and subsequent stabilisation to flow from her touch. He leaned into the contact, accepting the paradox, the necessary evil of his survival. The moment was agonising, intimate, and profoundly terrifying—a silent acknowledgement of the life they gambled on this mission.
"The Shunt," the Saint finally stated, pulling back, his core momentarily fortified. "The unified blade can momentarily redirect my energy signature. It will channel the spiritual output into the dormant lines of the Subterranean Grid—a massive, temporary decoy."
He picked up the unified blade. "It's a gamble. If the grid can't handle the strain, it will explode, and the Protocol will find us instantly."
"It's our best chance," Lyra affirmed, securing the stolen celestial comms unit to her harness. "I'll manage the comms and the digital countermeasures. I am the ghost; you are the god killer. We move."
The ascent was brutal. They located the access shaft leading to the Steam Vent Bypass—a vertical tunnel humming with corrosive heat.
"Seraphiel is raising the stakes," Lyra hissed, checking her peripheral sensors. The red light of the Veritas Protocol's search grid was intensifying above them, the convergence tightening around the Outskirts. "He knows the previous containment failed. We have less than ten minutes before the drones start drilling."
The Saint moved first, a dark blur rising through the choking heat. The unified blade's white light—the focus of Veritas—ignited. He plunged the tip of the blade into a massive, defunct power cable running alongside the shaft.
The resulting sound was a deafening CRACK as the spiritual energy surge hit the ancient copper lines. The Saint momentarily vanished from Lyra's spiritual sense—his immense grace shunted into the Subterranean Grid, leaving behind only the faintest trace of mortal-level heat and movement.
"Go," the Saint commanded, his voice muffled by the shunting process.
Lyra followed, scrambling up the maintenance rungs. The heat was immediate, overwhelming, searing her skin and lungs. But she focused on the comms unit, already launching a localised frequency jammer—a digital curtain to hide the physical disturbance they were making.
They reached the top of the shaft, emerging into the tight confines of the Steam Vent Bypass—a churning, deafening artery of the city's heating system. Steam roared around them, and the air was thick with the metallic tang of high pressure.
"The wall is three meters ahead," Lyra shouted over the noise, pointing to a section of reinforced concrete that separated them from the Command Nexus. "The schematics show a weakened weld point behind that support strut!"
The Saint nodded, moving to the designated point. He retracted the Shunt, and the raw, unmasked power of the Executioner flooded back into the confined space. The unified blade's light—now focused on the raw, crimson power of Sanctus—flared.
He didn't need a full Judgment Wave. He needed focused, localised destruction.
With a single, catastrophic strike, the Saint brought the crimson edge of the blade down. The sound was a sharp, implosive tear, instantly silenced by the surrounding steam. The reinforced concrete wall vaporised, leaving a smoking, man-sized hole.
Lyra plunged through the breach first, coughing from the residual heat. They were in.
They found themselves in a narrow, high-security ventilation shaft, inches from the heart of the Command Nexus. The walls thrummed with the focused energy of a thousand data cores. Ahead, through the mesh of the ventilation grate, Lyra could see the blinding, cold white lights of the main server room—the true engine of the Veritas Protocol.
Above them, the spiritual net snapped shut. The Protocol had registered the massive surge of energy from the breach and was now converging.
The Saint moved to the grate, his face grim. "They know we are here, Lyra. We have seconds before the physical response teams arrive."
He raised the unified blade, its light reflecting in the final barrier. The moment of truth had arrived. The ghost and the god killer were at the gates of Heaven's command centre.
The Saint and Lyra have infiltrated the Command Nexus. The attack on Seraphiel's central system is about to begin.