The study door bucks inward, and the inner steel door hangs open behind it. Cold air crawls up from the hidden shaft, carrying dust, ozone, and the reek of burned wiring. Dallas Fontaine stands between Professor Dayton's desk and the breach, while Murderbone plants himself at his side like a living barricade.

A Cleaner forces his shoulder through the gap, Harbor Unit colors darkened by rain and sweat. Behind him, the Courier stumbles back into the hall, white-faced. The forged manifest lies open on Dayton's desk, Jackson Temple's name stark in the lamp glow.

The Cleaner smiles thinly and reaches for the threshold, but Murderbone snaps a hard warning bark and cuts him off. Below, from the shaft, comes a low mechanical thrum, then the rattle of a latch being worked from inside the containment chamber.

The Cleaner braces to rush the desk, the Courier freezes in the doorway, and Jackson squares himself between Dayton and the steel breach. Dallas has one clear shot at the man in the threshold, or the panel below the floor, or the forged evidence on the desk. The next move is his.

Dallas drops his weight to the floor panel and slams it down with both hands. Metal bites metal, and the opening seals on the hidden shaft’s red glow.

Below the panel, the mechanical thrum cuts off mid-pulse. The cabinet lights in the study flicker once, then settle into a weaker, steadier burn.

Jackson shifts hard into the doorway lane, forcing the Cleaner to hesitate as Murderbone lunges at the gap with a savage bark.

The Courier flinches backward into the hall, staring at Jackson, then at the deadened floor seam. The forged manifest still lies open under the lamp, Jackson Temple’s name exposed for everyone to see.

The study lights steadied. The hidden shaft went dark under the sealed panel.

The blackout never came. The coven's hand was broken at the threshold, and Professor Dayton stayed behind his desk with his name still his own. Dallas Fontaine left the study with the fear drained out of the walls, and the city remained lit.