Containment happened without ceremony.
That was how Solara worked when it was afraid.
No speeches. No questions. No pauses long enough for doubt to settle in. Structures rose where hallways had been an hour earlier. Walls slid into place with the sound of inevitability. Power rerouted. Frequencies locked. Thread anchors embedded into the floor and ceiling like nails hammered into the world itself.
Things broke often at Solara.
That was the unspoken truth beneath its efficiency.
And when things broke too often, the response became faster. Harder. Less gentle.
Valeum was the new stress.
Weaver stood at the center of it, unmoving, eyes half-lidded as threads extended from him in every direction. They wrapped Valeum's limbs, his torso, his neck—precise, layered, unforgiving. Each filament hummed with tension, holding phase, holding mass, holding something that did not want to stay still.
Valeum was caught in a web.
And the spiders had arrived.
Hawk stood just outside the transparent barrier, hands clasped behind his back. His expression was not rage. Not fear.
It was disgust.
Valeum did not look at Hawk.
He looked past him.
Straight through the glass.
At Rose.
His breath rattled in his chest, uneven and wet, the sound of a body that had never learned how to rest inside itself.
"…fully," he gurgled.
"…pure…."
Hawk snapped his attention forward.
"Eyes off her," Hawk barked. "Now."
Valeum's head twitched, but his gaze lingered.
"Valeum does not like you," he said thickly. "Or sword lady. Killed too many of my peeeeoooppplleeee. Leave Valeum alone. Valeum wants to leave."
Hawk stepped closer to the glass.
"You're not leaving," he said flatly. "I want only Sable in the room. Everyone else—dismissed."
Rose took a sharp step forward. "No. We need to know what he is."
Weaver's voice followed immediately, calm but firm. "If he phases and I am not present, this becomes a catastrophe."
Jax didn't raise his voice. He didn't need to.
"That's an order," he said. "We go upstairs. Now. This isn't fair—but it's necessary."
No one argued again.
They left reluctantly, the elevator doors sealing them away as Solara swallowed their footsteps. The ascent was quiet, the hum of machinery filling the space where words wanted to go.
Cassidy broke first.
"Just in case anyone's wondering," she muttered, "I still don't like Hawk."
Weaver didn't smile, but his tone softened. "At least the second Seraphim is secured."
Cassidy shot him a look. "Until Varos shows up to collect his buddy."
Weaver shook his head slowly. "Unlikely. He didn't seem fond of Varos. Or… himself."
Rose stared at the closed doors. "His energy felt like mine. Not the same. But close."
Weaver nodded once. "A Seraphim who attempted Virel and failed. That kind of fracture would be… painful."
Cassidy snorted weakly. "Yeah. Like microwaved-for-thirty-seconds painful."
Jax didn't respond. His focus was already elsewhere. "Nina and Thane are at Sunslope. That's where answers are."
The elevator reached the surface.
They dispersed.
Below—
Hawk had his prey.
The room felt smaller without the others. The threads creaked faintly as Valeum shifted, testing limits he could not escape. Hawk held a rectangular case at his side—unmarked, unassuming.
"Since you already know me," Hawk said evenly, "you might as well talk."
Valeum's lip curled. "Valeum will not entertain you."
Sable stepped forward immediately, eyes flicking to Allium's vitals. "Commander, this is not a good idea. Not with him present."
Hawk's jaw clenched. "Put something over the glass. If he knows where the others hide, we end this."
The words landed wrong.
Allium felt it before the monitors reacted.
"You are not well," he said quietly.
Hawk turned on him. "Coming from you? Your mind is shattered beyond repair."
Allium recoiled—not physically, but something in him tightened.
Sable didn't hesitate. "That was out of line."
Hawk opened the case.
"Commander," Sable warned sharply, "if you cross that threshold, I report you directly to King Vex."
Hawk laughed. "I have authority."
"For now," Sable shot back. "Until I show them your altered reports."
She slammed the case shut.
"You are risking a personal vendetta against a nuclear event," she said coldly.
The argument raised the temperature of the room. Stress bled into the air. Allium's heart rate climbed, then steadied—barely.
Hawk turned his glare back to Valeum. "Seraphim despise Virel light. Metals too. Hurts like hell."
Valeum's reaction was immediate.
Dark blue energy flashed along his veins. His breathing broke. His body strained against the threads like an animal caught in wire.
Allium saw it.
The fear.
Not rage. Not defiance.
Terror.
He stood.
The glass vibrated as he approached.
"Stop," Allium said calmly. "If you try this… the cage will not stop me."
Hawk replies, "I'm the commander, I'm in charge!"
Orange light bloomed beneath his skin—controlled, steady, immense.
"You know my title."
Hawk felt it.
Pressure pressed against his chest, against his spine, against the certainty he clung to.
He scoffed, but his voice faltered. "This isn't over. And freedom? Forget it."
He left.
The door sealed.
Silence rushed back in.
Allium sat down slowly, breathing measured, vitals returning to baseline.
Sable approached the glass. "You held it."
Allium nodded once.
He looked at Valeum.
Still shaking.
Not like a Seraphim.
Like a person.