The wind off the bridge is cold enough to cut. Below, the river churns dark and indifferent. Your hands are locked on the railing - the only solid thing left after running so long your legs stopped knowing how to stop. The system calls you unmanageable. Three doms. Three failures. The file on you reads like a verdict. Then a voice comes from behind you - unhurried, no edge of command in it. Just your name, like a question he already knows the cost of asking. Blaise was sent to bring you back. But he's not moving like someone here to collect a file. He's standing in the cold like he has nowhere else to be. And that, somehow, is the most dangerous thing anyone has ever done to you.