Everyone watched Victoria raise her hand against a helpless elderly woman, but only one waitress dared to stop her—and seconds later, Chicago’s most powerful billionaire walked straight toward them.

A brilliant emerald ring swept across the console screen, scanning Emma's palm. The synthetic voice of the vessel echoed through the bridge, shifting from harsh red warnings to a deep, calm tone:

*BIOMETRIC CONFIRMED: WARD, PRIMARY CUSTODIAN. OVERRIDE PROTOCOL ENGAGED.*

"No!" Helena shrieked, lunging toward the abort switches, but Vincent stepped between them, his towering frame blocking her path, his weapon never wavering.

"COMMAND AUTHORITY RESTORED," the computer announced. "WARHEAD ARMED STATUS: CANCELLED. COMMENCING EMERGENCY BUOYANCY EXPULSION."

"What did you do?!" Helena screamed. "You fool! You've triggered the emergency blow!"

High-pressure air tanks discharged with a deafening roar into the ballast tanks. The massive submarine, buoyant once more, tilted upward at a sharp thirty-degree angle. The floor fell away beneath their feet as thousands of tons of displacement hurled the vessel toward the surface at breakneck speed.

Consoles sparked and shattered as the sudden acceleration threw Helena violently against the bulkhead, knocking her unconscious. Vincent reached out, catching Emma by the waist and anchoring them both against the bolted commander's chair as the g-forces pulled at their bodies.

Through the forward viewport, the black abyssal trench gave way to the pale green underbelly of the frozen lake.

"Brace!" Vincent roared.

The *Tartarus* smashed through the three-foot-thick shelf of winter ice on Lake Michigan like an iron spear. The impact sounded like the sky tearing in two. Millions of pounds of shattered ice, frozen spray, and lake water exploded into the night air.

The massive, black-hulled Leviathan breached the surface, water cascading off its superstructure in violent waterfalls, before crashing back down onto the churning waves less than half a mile off the Chicago Gold Coast skyline.

Inside the bridge, the emergency red lights flickered out, replaced by the pale glow of the Chicago skyline visible through the cracked front viewport. The towers of Michigan Avenue sparkled against the winter clouds, whole, alive, and unburned.

Vincent breathed heavily, his forehead resting against Emma’s. "You did it."

"We did it," Emma whispered, tears of relief mixing with the cold salt spray on her cheeks.