The bleeding red glow of the containment crystals turned the archives into a chamber of horrors. Angie didn't wait for her father to finish his panic, nor did she wait for Marcell to draw his blade to stop her.As the stones groaned underfoot, she lunged sideways, using her lightweight frame to slide under Trevor's outstretched arm. She grabbed a heavy brass candleholder from a nearby desk and threw it with all her might at the glass containment vault behind Marcell.The glass shattered with a deafening crack, releasing a pressurized blast of compressed magical vapor that blinded the doorway in a thick, blue fog."Angie, no!" Trevor screamed, his footsteps scrambling in the haze.Marcell lunged through the smoke, his hand shooting out to grab her cloak, but Angie unclasped the collar, leaving the fabric in his grip as she burst into the stone corridor. She ran like a deer, her boots slamming against the spiraling staircases that descended into the lower levels of the Temple of Time.The palace was screaming. The beautiful, polished marble walls were spider-webbing with deep, jagged fissures. The air grew progressively colder, tasting of dry copper and ancient dust. She had to get to Chris. If the whole world was built on a lie, she didn't care about the tethers or the kingdom—she only cared about the boy who had loved her since they were in diapers. If he was going to tear the universe apart, she was going to be there to pull him back from the edge.She burst through the upper observation balcony overlooking the lower gates, but the sight stopped the breath in her throat.Chris stood in the center of a massive, perfectly smooth crater. The air around him was localized liquid static, warping and folding like a broken mirror. He was clawing at his chest, his eyes completely white, screaming a silent, vacuum-sealed roar as a pillar of blinding, negative light erupted from his body, punching straight through the palace ceiling and into the sky above.