The emergency alert hit the central command spire like a hammer. Atlas was halfway through reviewing stabilization reports when the runes on the wall flared red. Elara was already moving, gauntlets snapping into place.
"Mid-level shrine fracture," she said. "Not a drill. Let's go."
They arrived at Stabilization Shrine 14 in under two minutes. The place was supposed to be boring—a squat pillar-filled hall where analysts patched small leaks between Middle Heaven and the lower realms. Today it was not boring.
A crack split the central pillar from base to capital. Inside the crack, a storm sigil burned white-hot. Lightning crawled across the stone in lazy arcs. Three low-ranking angels and one demigod clerk stood too close, eyes wide.
"Don't touch it," Atlas ordered.
Too late. The demigod clerk lunged forward and slapped his palm against the Mark. Blue-white energy surged up his arm.
