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.

The survival pod breached the surface of Lake Michigan with a violent, concussive crash, rocking violently in the raging four-foot swells before stabilizing.

Through the thick quartz porthole of the hatch, Emma saw the world above. It was late afternoon, and the Chicago skyline stood against a bruised, storm-swept sky. But the city was not as they had left it.

Plumes of black smoke rose from multiple points across the downtown grid. Helicopters with searchlights swarmed over the shoreline, and the wail of sirens across Lake Shore Drive was so dense it carried over the roar of the freezing waves.

The Sovereign broadcast had landed.

Vincent managed to crank open the emergency top hatch, letting the freezing winter wind whip into the capsule. He hauled himself onto the rim, his face pale from blood loss, his eyes taking in the city in turmoil.

"It went through," Emma whispered, climbing up beside him, her fingers clutching the damp collar of his jacket. "The archives... they actually hit the public."

Every digital billboard along the highway, every terminal visible through the skyline’s towering glass towers was flashing red emergency alerts. News stations, social platforms, and rogue servers had seized the fragmented broadcast Helena initiated. Moretti Enterprises stock had crashed by fifty percent in forty-five minutes. Federal warrants were being issued by the dozen.

Down in the pod, Helena sat curled on the floor, weeping silently, while Caldwell began to stir, groaning in pain.

Suddenly, the roar of twin turboprop engines cut through the storm. A massive, unmarked black Sikorsky helicopter descended low over the water, spraying freezing mist across the capsule.

"Cover!" Vincent shouted, reaching for his weapon, but his holster was empty.

The helicopter hovered ten feet above the pod. The side door slid open, revealing four heavily armed operators in gray tactical gear. But instead of assault rifles, the lead operative lowered a steel rescue harness, shouting through a megaphone over the thunder of the rotors:

"Mr. Moretti! Miss Ward! Commander Vance sent us! Stand by for immediate extraction—the city is under martial lockdown!"

Vincent exchanged a tense, wary look with Emma. "Marcus Vance... my father’s former head of personal security. He’s the only man alive who knows the complete layout of the Pullman underground."