Subterranean Chamber beneath Church of Our Lady before Týn – Prague – 6:29 p.m.
The man's footsteps echoed through the stone chamber, slow and deliberate. The folds of his robe swayed like a pendulum as he approached, and Langdon felt the weight of his presence even before he could see the stranger's face.
He was tall, gaunt, with angular features—eyes sunken yet burning with purpose.
A silver beard traced his jaw, trimmed with surgical precision. Around his neck, the Janus Seal gleamed: two faces, back to back, one human and serene, the other mechanical and cold.
Langdon's voice cracked the silence. "You're Janus?" The man smiled faintly. "Janus is not a name. It's a function." He turned to Katherine. "And you, Dr. Solomon, are the final frequency." Katherine backed up. "How do you know me?" "I've known you your whole life. You are the fulfilment of a design drafted over two centuries ago." He raised a hand, gesturing to the cube. "The mind of man is evolving. The cube is not an invention—it is an awakening mechanism." Langdon stepped forward, his eyes narrowing. "What do you want with us?" Janus approached the dark cube and laid his hand gently on it. "This," he whispered, "is the Receiver. The other, your Stanford cube, is the Transmitter. But they are incomplete… until the alignment." Katherine blinked. "Alignment?" Janus turned to her, as if addressing a pupil. "The harmonic convergence of human consciousness. A moment when enough minds feel the same thought— fear, hope, pain, love—and emit a shared frequency. That resonance has a measurable field. And when it peaks…" He gestured to the cube. "The Receiver listens. And records." Langdon's mind reeled. "You're saying… the cube records thoughts?" "Not thoughts," Janus said softly. "Intentions." Katherine shook her head. "This is impossible. You're talking about quantifying consciousness." "Not quantifying," Janus said. "Guiding." He moved toward them. "You were never here by chance. Robert Langdon—the man who interprets symbols—and Katherine Solomon—the woman who measures the soul. Together, you complete the key." From his robe, Janus produced a scroll.
Langdon recognized the seal immediately.
Benjamin Franklin's signature.
Janus unfurled it with care. The scroll bore a diagram of the two cubes, surrounded by concentric rings labelled with dates, locations, and... celestial positions.
Langdon froze. One ring was labelled with the current year—and the summer solstice.
Katherine paled. "That's in four days." Janus nodded solemnly. "When the sun stands still, so too shall time… for just a moment. And in that silence, humanity will be offered a choice." Langdon looked at the cubes.
Janus's voice dropped to a whisper. "To ascend—or remain deaf to its own potential." Suddenly, a distant rumble echoed from above.
Katherine turned toward the staircase. "We're not alone." Janus nodded grimly. "No. The Order knows the convergence is near. They seek to control it. But they are too late." Langdon's pulse quickened. "What do we do?" Janus turned to him, his eyes suddenly soft. "You go to New York." He handed Langdon the scroll.
"The final harmonic is there. Inside Franklin's legacy. Hidden beneath the city he designed. Go, before they close the gate."