THE SHARED LOAF: A girl in a camel coat gave half a loaf of bread to a starving child on the frozen street. She didn't know she was rescuing her lost cousin—or starting a war.

The night of the investiture, rain fell in torrents over the High District, washing the grand marble plazas in a cold, shimmering sheen.

Thousands of citizens and elite families gathered beneath massive umbrella canopies surrounding the High Council Rotunda. Heavy armored Syndicate mechs and hundred of black-clad troopers lined the perimeter, weapons at the ready.

Disguised in oversized rain ponchos provided by Jax, Clara and I navigated through the crowd like two shadows. While Marcus and Jax created a localized power distraction in the sub-level electrical grid, Clara and I slipped into the subterranean service duct beneath the main stage.

My heart hammered against my ribs, but the cold street instincts I had built over eight years kept my hands completely steady.

Through the iron grating of the stage floor, we could see Director Malakor—a ruthless, scarred man wearing a immaculate crimson military dress uniform—standing before the High Council members.

"The Vance bloodline is no more!" Malakor’s voice boomed through the massive stadium speakers. "Their tragic end in Sector 4 is a stark reminder of the lawlessness that threatens our city. As Director, I vow to bring order to all sectors under one unified command!"

The crowd applauded politely, but a heavy tension hung in the air.