The floor seemed to disappear beneath me.
The aircraft roared overhead without making a sound. That was the worst part. Something that large should have screamed through the sky. Instead, it moved like a shadow pretending to be a machine.
A monitor flickered back on.
Elias Voss’s face returned, scarred and smiling.
“Rachel,” he said softly, “you always did make the truth sound tragic.”
“You don’t get to talk to him.”
“He is my son.”
“You lost that right the night you sold our unit.”
Voss’s smile faded.
“I saved the future.”
“You killed people.”
“I sacrificed people.”
Mom’s voice shook, but only for a second.
“You tried to take Lucas before he was born.”
My blood went cold.
Voss looked directly at me through the screen.
“They told her you were dangerous,” he said. “They told her you should never exist. I was the only one who understood what you were.”
Mom reached for the power switch, but the screen stayed on.
“You are not a weapon, Lucas,” she said quickly. “Do you hear me? You are my son.”
Then the cabin roof exploded inward.
Not completely. Not in fire. Not in flames.
Just pressure.
The invisible aircraft passed so low above us that the air itself crushed down. Wood cracked. Lights burst. The steel door groaned like it was being bent by giant hands.
Aunt June fired once at the ceiling.
The blast was deafening.
Mom dragged me through the hidden room toward a narrow tunnel behind the radio wall.
“Go!” Aunt June shouted.
“What about you?” I yelled.
She pumped the shotgun again.
“I’ve been waiting twelve years to be useful.”
Mom pushed me into the tunnel.
Behind us, the room filled with sparks and rain.
We crawled through darkness while the cabin tore itself apart above us. Mom moved fast, one hand always behind her to make sure I was still there.
At the end of the tunnel, we came out beneath a collapsed storm shelter behind the cabin. The forest was black and wet around us.
Aunt June stumbled out seconds later, coughing, her sleeve torn, shotgun still in her hand.
“Next time,” she wheezed, “we hide in Florida.”
Then a light swept over the trees.
Not from a helicopter.
From above.
Mom shoved me behind a fallen log as the invisible aircraft descended through the rain. Its outline shimmered for one second, a ghost made of water and distortion.
Then a ramp lowered from nothing.
And Admiral Carter staggered out.
His hands were bound. Blood marked one side of his forehead, but he was alive.
Behind him stood Elias Voss.
My father.
He wore a black flight suit, older and thinner than the man in the scratched-out photograph, but his eyes were steady and bright. Too bright.
“Rachel,” he called through the rain. “I brought him back to prove I’m not here to destroy you.”
Mom stepped forward, keeping me behind her.
“You kidnapped him.”
“I borrowed him.”
Admiral Carter lifted his head.
“Don’t listen to him, Rachel.”
Voss struck him once across the face.
Mom moved before I even understood what was happening.
She crossed the distance like a blade.
Voss raised his hand, but Mom hit him first. Not wild. Not angry. Precise. Years of training compressed into one motion. He stumbled back against the ramp.
Aunt June ran for Carter.
I should have stayed hidden.
But then I saw the aircraft behind Voss.
Its cockpit was open.
And inside, something was pulsing.
A pale blue light.
The same broken wing symbol glowed on the control panel.
Ghostwing.
The machine was waiting.
For him.
Or for me.
Voss recovered and smiled through the rain.
“There it is,” he said. “You feel it, don’t you, Lucas?”
I did.
That was the terrible part.
Somewhere deep in my head, there was a hum that matched the aircraft. Like a song I had known before I was born.
Mom looked back at me.
“Lucas, don’t listen.”
But the hum grew louder.
The rain slowed.
The trees blurred.
For one impossible second, I could feel the aircraft breathing.
Voss reached out his hand.
“You don’t have to be afraid of what you are.”
Mom’s voice cut through the storm.
“He is not afraid of himself. He is afraid of becoming you.”
That stopped him.
Only for a second.
But it was enough.
Admiral Carter, still half-bound, slammed his shoulder into Voss from behind. Aunt June grabbed Carter and dragged him away as Mom lunged for the ramp controls.
Voss turned, furious.
The aircraft began to rise.
Mom was still on the ramp.
“Mom!” I screamed.
She looked at me once.
And I understood.
She was going to take Ghostwing away from him, even if it took her with it.
“No,” I whispered.
The hum in my head became a roar.
I stepped out from behind the log.
The aircraft froze.
Not stopped.
Froze.
The rain hung around it in trembling silver lines. The engines flickered. The blue light in the cockpit flashed wildly.
Voss stared at me.
Mom stared too.
I did not know what I was doing. I only knew what I wanted.
I wanted it down.
The Ghostwing slammed into the mud.
Not hard enough to explode. Hard enough to die.
The lights went dark.
The invisible shape became visible at last, its surface rippling like cracked glass. A broken aircraft lay in the forest, no longer a ghost.
Voss fell from the ramp.
Mom rolled clear and hit the ground hard.
I ran to her.
She was breathing.
That was all I needed.
Voss tried to crawl toward the cockpit, but Admiral Carter stopped him with one foot pressed against his wrist.
“Elias Voss,” Carter said, voice low and shaking with rage, “you are finished.”
Voss looked at me from the mud.
For the first time, he did not look powerful.
He looked desperate.
“You don’t understand,” he whispered. “They will use you. They will all use you.”
Mom stood slowly, one arm around me.
“No,” she said. “Because I taught him something you never learned.”