Chapter 41 — The Fall
Darkness pressed in from every direction.
Dust floated through the narrow gaps between broken concrete slabs. The air was thick and heavy, tasting like steel and smoke.
John slowly opened his eyes.
For a moment, everything was silent except for a distant ringing in his ears.
Then the pain arrived.
His ribs burned.
His left arm was pinned beneath twisted metal.
Chunks of concrete pressed against his legs.
The elevator cage around them had been crushed like a tin box when the tower collapsed.
He forced himself to breathe slowly.
In.
Out.
Around him, the remains of the team were scattered in the debris.
"Nyra…" he said quietly.
A faint groan answered from somewhere to his right.
"I'm here," she whispered.
Relief passed through him.
"Anyone else?"
Hawk coughed violently somewhere in the darkness.
"Still breathing."
Bishop's voice followed a moment later.
"Barely."
Jack answered last, from deeper under the rubble.
"Next time," he muttered weakly, "we take the stairs."
Despite the situation, a small laugh escaped Hawk.
But John didn't laugh.
He stared upward through a thin crack where faint moonlight leaked through layers of destroyed concrete.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
Scar had fired rockets at the building.
That part made sense.
But the timing…
The missile teams had been ready exactly when the Knights reached the top floor.
Not earlier.
Not later.
Exactly then.
Scar had known.
John's mind replayed the last few hours.
The betting network.
The cameras.
The floors designed to slow them down.
And then something else came back to him.
A detail he had ignored earlier.
Crow's scanner on Level Six.
The moment it detected missile heat signatures already positioned around the tower.
They hadn't arrived after the fight.
They had already been waiting.
John spoke slowly.
"Scar knew we would reach the top."
Nyra shifted painfully under the beam holding her down.
"He was watching every floor."
John shook his head slightly.
"No."
His voice became colder.
"He knew before that."
The others fell silent.
Jack spoke carefully.
"What are you saying?"
John stared into the darkness.
"Scar didn't just guess."
Another small piece of debris shifted above them.
Dust fell through the cracks.
"Someone told him."
Nyra's breathing slowed as she understood.
"Outside help."
John nodded slightly.
"The missile teams were already in position."
Bishop spoke from somewhere in the rubble.
"Could've been anyone in the underworld watching the betting board."
John closed his eyes for a second.
"No."
He remembered Scar's smile.
The way he had spoken directly to John through the screen.
Confident.
Certain.
Scar hadn't just been gambling.
He had known the result of the game before it ended.
Which meant someone outside the building had been feeding him information.
Someone powerful.
Someone with access.
Someone who wanted the Knights buried in this tower.
Jack finally asked the question.
"Who?"
John didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was worse than a simple enemy.
The Knights had many enemies.
But only a few people had enough reach to organize missile teams, control betting markets, and coordinate with Scar at the same time.
John spoke quietly.
"Someone who benefits if we disappear."
Nyra exhaled slowly.
"Someone in the underworld leadership."
John looked toward the thin crack of moonlight again.
Far above them, the tower was now just rubble.
Scar was already gone.
Twenty billion dollars richer.
And somewhere out there—
The person who helped him was still watching.
John clenched his free hand.
"They think this buried us."
Jack coughed weakly.
"Didn't it?"
John forced himself to move, pushing against the debris trapping him.
Concrete shifted slightly.
Not enough.
But it moved.
"No," he said quietly.
His voice carried a quiet promise through the darkness.
"This is just the beginning."
Above them, sirens could be heard faintly in the distance as emergency vehicles approached the ruins.
But beneath the mountain of debris—
The Knights were still alive.
And John now knew something even more dangerous than Scar.
Someone powerful enough to help destroy a building just to eliminate them.
Someone waiting in the shadows of the underworld.
Someone who had just made the worst mistake of their life.