Mountains of Savoy – November 17, 1937 – 9:00 PM
The first shot didn't come from the soldiers.
It came from Madeleine.
— "If they enter armed, they better know what they're walking into."
The masked men surrounded the safehouse. A tactical unit. Professional. But hesitant.
Inside, Claire took a deep breath.
— "You know what to do if I fall."
Lorelei replied:
— "Yes. But we won't let you fall."
—
Meanwhile – Rome, London, Warsaw, Vienna – 9:02 PM
Underground transmissions began replaying the full LUX file.
On pirate radios, occupied libraries, hidden churches.
The people listened.
— "We didn't know."
— "We knew, but didn't know it was real."
— "Now we do."
—
Safehouse – 9:10 PM
The intruders breached the entry.
Gunfire. Screams. Flashes of light and smoke.
Solène cast barriers of light.
Émile fell back with military precision.
Lorelei took down three before the second shot even echoed.
Claire, in the center of the room, activated the final broadcast:
— "They want silence. But we are made of voices."
—
In the chaos – 9:17 PM
One of the agents froze. His shoulder radio crackled.
— "Order suspended. Immediate withdrawal."
— "Why?"
— "People are in the streets. They're guarding stations. The files were read in Parliament. We lost control of the story."
—
And then… silence.
Not from fear.
From choice.
—
The attackers retreated.
And Claire, covered in sweat and dust, looked outside.
For the first time, there wasn't just snow.
There were lights.
People.
Improvised signs.
She was no longer hunted. She was protected.
—
The truth no longer needed a messenger.
It was walking on its own.