They escaped the Atrium in chaos, Selene's shadows wrapping them as they fled down servants' corridors. Outside, the night was alive with fog and shouts, searchlights sweeping like hungry eyes.
In a deserted gear tunnel, they caught their breath. Evangeline pressed her palms to the iron walls, eyes wide. "He's here. Not in body. In the machines. He can see us. Hear us."
Elric frowned. "Not possible."
But the walls trembled. Gears rotated, though no hand touched them. Pipes hissed, forming words in bursts of steam:
You are mine already, detective.
Selene cursed, stepping back. Hollis slammed his fist into the wall, denting the brass. "Show yourself, coward!"
The chuckle came again, deep and metallic.
"No need. I know your wounds, soldier. I know your shadows, thief. I know your whispers, mechanist. And you, detective — I know your every thought before it forms. You cannot hide from me. You cannot outthink me. The game is already over."
The steam hissed violently, scalding the air, before fading into silence.
For the first time, Elric felt not simply hunted — but watched.