They didn't speak until they reached the surface.
Not because there was nothing to say—
but because whatever had happened below the city still clung to them.
The air above felt wrong.
Too light.
Too normal.
New Orleans moved as it always did—music spilling from open doors, laughter echoing down wet streets, neon bleeding into puddles—but now it all felt like a thin layer stretched over something deeper.
Something waking.
Jonah broke the silence first.
"That thing… what exactly was it?"
Amara didn't answer.
Verrès did.
"The beginning."
Jonah frowned.
"Of what?"
Verrès glanced back toward the building they had exited.
Toward the ground beneath it.
"Of something that hasn't fully decided what it is yet."
Malik let out a slow breath.
"Yeah… that's not comforting."
"No," Amara said. "It isn't."
They moved.
Not toward Bourbon.
Not toward the noise.
Away from it.
Toward quieter streets where the city's pulse softened and the shadows felt deeper.
Jonah walked beside Verrès now.
Close enough to watch him.
"You knew how to stop it."
"I interrupted it."
"That's not the same thing."
"No," Verrès said.
"It isn't."
Jonah studied him.
"Then what did you actually do?"
Verrès didn't answer immediately.
Because the truth was still forming.
"I listened to it," he said finally.
Jonah blinked.
"You what?"
"It was trying to stabilize," Verrès continued. "To form structure. A pattern."
Amara's gaze sharpened slightly.
"…Go on."
Verrès slowed.
His mind replaying what he had felt.
What he had understood.
"It wasn't random," he said. "The breach… the way it formed… it followed a sequence."
Jonah frowned.
"A sequence based on what?"
Verrès stopped walking.
Turned.
Looked at all of them.
"Blood."
Silence.
Immediate.
Amara nodded slowly.
"Yes."
Jonah shook his head.
"Explain that."
"The Master isn't just opening a door," Verrès said. "He's building a path. Layer by layer. Each breach… each creature… each death…"
"…feeds the structure," Amara finished.
"Yes."
Malik exhaled.
"So every time one of those things shows up…"
"The Gate gets stronger," Lena said quietly.
No one argued.
Because they had seen it.
Felt it.
Jonah looked back toward the Quarter.
"Then we don't just have a problem…"
He turned back.
"We have a timeline."
Verrès' eyes darkened.
"Yes."
They returned to the network.
This time—
the room felt different.
More crowded.
More alert.
Word had spread.
Of course it had.
Nothing stayed contained in a place like this.
The man was already waiting when they entered.
"You felt it," he said.
Not a question.
Verrès nodded.
"Yes."
The man's gaze shifted between them.
"And?"
Amara stepped forward.
"It's real."
A pause.
Then:
"And it's working."
That landed hard.
The room tightened.
"You stopped it," Lena said.
Verrès shook his head.
"I delayed it."
That was worse.
The man folded his hands behind his back.
"Then we don't have much time."
"No," Verrès said. "We don't."
Jonah stepped forward.
"We need to know where the next one will happen."
The man glanced at him.
"And you think there's a pattern?"
Verrès nodded.
"Yes."
Amara's eyes flicked to him.
"You saw something."
"Yes."
"What?"
Verrès walked toward the center of the room.
Toward the table.
Maps were already spread across it.
New Orleans.
Detailed.
Layered.
Marked.
He studied them.
Then reached out—
and placed his finger on a point.
"Here."
Jonah leaned in.
"That's… the riverfront."
"Not the surface," Verrès said.
"Below it."
Amara stepped beside him.
"Why there?"
Verrès didn't look at her.
"Because it's not random."
He moved his hand across the map.
Pointing to locations.
"The first breach."
"The alley."
"The chamber below."
He traced a line between them.
Not straight.
Not obvious.
But connected.
Amara's expression shifted.
"…It's following something."
"Yes."
"What?" Jonah asked.
Verrès looked up.
At all of them.
"The old city."
Silence.
The man's eyes narrowed.
"You're suggesting—"
"That whatever this was before," Verrès said, "it hasn't changed."
"It's just been buried."
Amara nodded slowly.
"…That makes sense."
Jonah frowned.
"It doesn't make sense."
"Not to you," Amara said.
"To us—it does."
Malik crossed his arms.
"Okay, then explain it like we're not part of the supernatural club."
Amara gestured to the map.
"Cities change," she said. "Buildings, streets, structures. But what's underneath?"
She tapped the table lightly.
"Doesn't."
A pause.
Then:
"If something like this existed before…"
"…it would follow the original layout," Lena finished.
Verrès nodded.
"Yes."
Jonah looked down at the map again.
Then back up.
"Which means it's not choosing locations randomly…"
"It's retracing them," Verrès said.
"And the next one?"
Jonah asked.
Verrès tapped the map again.
The river.
Below it.
Deeper than the last.
Amara exhaled slowly.
"That's not a good place."
"No," Verrès said.
"It isn't."
The man's expression hardened.
"If that breach stabilizes—"
"It won't just be a test," Amara said.
"It'll be a doorway."
Silence.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
Jonah looked at his team.
Then back at Verrès.
"Then we get there first."
Verrès met his gaze.
"Yes."
Because now—
there was no guessing.
No reacting.
No waiting.
They had a pattern.
They had a direction.
And that meant one thing.
The next move—
was theirs.
Outside—
the river moved slowly through the city.
Dark.
Heavy.
Ancient.
Unaware of what was building beneath it.
Or maybe—
not unaware at all.