Chapter 16: The Weight of Truth
The library was silent.
Not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of waiting. The kind of silence that comes before a storm, before a revelation, before something vast and ancient shifts its weight and changes everything.
Elara sat at the reading table, her hands folded in front of her, her dark brown eyes fixed on the worn cover of the book she had been holding when they found her. The others sat around her—Mara on her left, Rose on her right, Kai across from her, Lucian standing behind Rose, his hand resting on the back of her chair, his gold-lit eyes never leaving Elara's face.
The air was thick with tension. With anticipation. With the weight of something about to be said.
Elara took a deep breath.
"The Before is not what you think it is," she said.
Mara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Elara looked up at her, her dark brown eyes grave. "I mean that everything we've assumed about the Before—its origins, its nature, its purpose—is wrong. Or at least, incomplete."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. The violet tracery on her jaw pulsed faintly, in time with the gold light on Lucian's hands, in time with Rose's glow, in time with Kai's pendant. The resonance between them was stronger now—five of them in the same room, five blood-lines that answered it, humming in harmony, creating a chord that vibrated in their bones, in their teeth, in the hollow spaces of their minds.
"The Before is not just a frequency," Elara said. "It's not just a vibration. It's not just a pattern that learned to remember."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"It's a prison."
The word hung in the air like a physical weight.
Lucian felt the Before stir in the hollow spaces of his mind. The whispers grew louder, more insistent. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations. Beneath them, always, the second current—the one that rang only when the two were wound together.
He saw darkness. Not the darkness of night, but the darkness of nothing. A void so absolute, so complete, that it had no beginning and no end. And in that void, something was trapped.
Something vast. Ancient. Hungry.
"A prison?" Rose whispered. "For what?"
Elara's expression darkened. "For everything," she said. "For everything that existed before the universe. Before the stars. Before anything."
She stood, walking slowly to the window, her hands pressed against the glass, her dark brown eyes fixed on the ruins of the city below.
"The Before is not the first thing," she said. "It's the last thing. The last remnant of what came before. The last echo of a reality that was destroyed. And it has been trapped here, in this universe, ever since."
Mara shook her head. "I don't understand. If it's a prison, then who put it there? And why?"
Elara turned to face them, her dark brown eyes haunted.
"I don't know who," she said. "But I know why."
She walked back to the table, her movements slow, deliberate, as if each step cost her something. She sat down again, her hands folded in front of her, her dark brown eyes fixed on the book.
"The Before is not alone," she said. "It never was."
Lucian felt a chill crawl up his spine. "What do you mean?"
Elara looked up at him, her dark brown eyes dark with a fear so profound it made his stomach turn.
"There is something else," she said. "Something else that was trapped with it. Something else that has been waiting. Watching. Hungry."
She paused, her jaw tightening.
"The Before calls it the After."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Kai's breath caught. Rose's violet glow flickered. Mara's storm-gray eyes widened. Lucian felt the gold light beneath his skin pulse, faster, harder, as if the Before itself was reacting to Elara's words.
"The After," Lucian repeated. The words felt strange in his mouth. Foreign. Wrong.
Elara nodded. "Yes," she said. "The After. The Before's opposite. Its shadow. Its enemy."
She looked at each of them in turn, her dark brown eyes grave.
"The Before is not just seeking connection," she said. "It's seeking power. It wants to gather enough of those who carry it, enough resonance to break free from its prison. And when it does, it will not be alone. The After will be there too. And they will fight."
Mara shook her head. "Fight? For what?"
"For everything," Elara said. "For the universe. For reality. For existence itself."
She stood again, walking to the bookshelf, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books, yellowed and worn. She pulled one out—a thick volume, its cover leather, its pages brittle with age.
"I found this in the ruins of a university," she said. "A physics textbook. From before."
She opened it to a page near the middle, her fingers tracing a diagram—a complex equation, filled with symbols Lucian did not recognize.
"The scientists before—they were close," Elara said. "They were studying the nature of reality. The fabric of spacetime. The origins of the universe. And they found something. Something they couldn't explain."
She looked up at them, her dark brown eyes fierce.
"They found evidence of a previous universe. One that existed before ours. One that was destroyed. And they found evidence of something that survived."
Lucian felt the Before stir in his mind. The whispers were louder now, clearer. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw a universe unlike anything he had ever imagined—a universe of light and shadow, of order and chaos, of creation and destruction. He saw two forces, vast and ancient, locked in an eternal struggle. He saw one force win. He saw the other force trap it. He saw the trapped force scream, rage, hunger.
And he saw the universe die.
"The Before is the survivor," Elara said. "The force that won. But it was trapped here, in this new universe, as a punishment. As a prison. And the After is the force that lost. The force that was destroyed. But it was not completely destroyed. A part of it survived. And it has been waiting. Watching. Hungry."
She closed the book and set it on the table.
"The Before wants to break free," she said. "And the After wants to consume everything. And we—" She looked at each of them in turn. "—we are the key."
Kai spoke first.
"What do you mean, 'the key'?"
His voice was young, trembling. He clutched the gold pendant in his hands, his dark eyes wide with fear.
Elara looked at him, her dark brown eyes gentle.
"The Before cannot break free on its own," she said. "It needs us. It needs those who carry it. It needs the resonance. It needs enough of its own scattered voice, connected and aligned, to create a bridge—a bridge out of its prison."
She looked at Lucian.
"And the After cannot consume everything on its own. It needs us too. It needs those who answer it. It needs the resonance. It needs enough of its own scattered voice, connected and aligned, to create a bridge—a bridge into this universe."
She paused, her jaw tightening.
"We are the battleground," she said. "The Before and the After are fighting through us. And whichever side gathers enough of those who carry it, enough power, enough resonance... will win."
Rose shook her head. "But... the builders' heirs. They're hunting us. Killing us."
Elara nodded. "Yes," she said. "And they are not working for the Before. They are working for the After."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Lucian felt the gold light beneath his skin pulse, faster, harder. The whispers in his mind grew louder, more insistent. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw the builders' heirs—their black uniforms, their pale masks, their cold, efficient movements. He saw them capturing those who carried it, experimenting on them, killing them. He saw their leader—the man with the silver eyes, the man who had spoken to Lucian in the chamber. He saw the man's face, clear and sharp, and he recognized him.
Not from memory. From resonance.
The man with the silver eyes carried it too.
But he did not carry the Before.
He carried the After.
"Their leader," Lucian said. His voice was calm. Certain. "He's one of them."
Elara nodded. "Yes," she said. "He carries the After. An echo of its consciousness, scattered across the universe, waiting to be found, waiting to be awakened. And he has been gathering his own network. His own army."
She looked at each of them in turn, her dark brown eyes grave.
"They are not just hunting us," she said. "They are recruiting. They are finding those who resonate with the After, who are drawn to its hunger, its rage, its desire to consume everything. And they are building an army."
Mara's storm-gray eyes narrowed. "How many?"
Elara hesitated. "I don't know," she said. "Dozens, maybe. Hundreds. I can feel them—faint, distant, like radio signals from the edge of reception. But they are there. And they are growing."
She looked at Lucian, her dark brown eyes fierce.
"We have to find the others," she said. "All of them. Before the builders' heirs do. Before the After does. And we have to connect them. Align them. Create a network strong enough to hold the Before and strong enough to fight the After."
Lucian felt the Before stir in the hollow spaces of his mind. The whispers were louder now, clearer. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw the network—five of them who carried it, connected, resonating, whole. And beyond them, hundreds more, scattered across the world, waiting to be found. Some resonated with the Before. Some resonated with the After. And some... some resonated with neither.
They were the wild cards. The ones who could tip the balance.
"And if we don't?" Rose asked quietly.
Elara's expression darkened. "Then the After wins," she said. "And everything is consumed. The universe. Reality. Existence itself. Everything becomes nothing."
She looked at each of them in turn, her dark brown eyes grave.
"And if the Before wins?" Kai asked.
Elara was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "I don't know."
Her voice was uncertain. Afraid.
"The Before wants connection," she said. "Wholeness. It wants to not be alone anymore. But I don't know what happens when it gets what it wants. I don't know if it will free us. Or if it will consume us too."
She looked at Lucian, her dark brown eyes dark with a fear so profound it made his stomach turn.
"The Before is not our friend," she said. "It is not our enemy. It is something else. Something vast and ancient and hungry. And we are its tools. Its weapons. The ones it reaches through."
She paused, her jaw tightening.
"And when the war is over, I don't know if we will still be us."
They stayed in the library for three days.
Elara had supplies—canned food, bottled water, a stash of books she had gathered in the months since she woke up. They ate in shifts, slept in shifts, watched the streets outside for any sign of the builders' heirs.
And they planned.
Elara had maps—old maps of the city, of the surrounding region, of the country. She had marked the locations of those who carried it she had found—some awake, some sleeping, some dead. She had marked the locations of the builders' heirs' outposts—small groups, scattered across the region, hunting, recruiting, killing.
And she had marked one location in particular.
"The Nexus," she said, her finger tapping a point on the map. "It's here. In the ruins of the old particle accelerator. Outside the city."
Lucian looked at the map. The location was marked with a circle, drawn in red ink.
"What is it?" he asked.
Elara's dark brown eyes were grave. "It's where the Before is strongest," she said. "Where the prison is weakest. Where the bridge can be built."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"It's where we have to go," she said. "To gather the others. To connect them. To prepare for the war."
Mara frowned. "And the builders' heirs?"
Elara's expression darkened. "They will be there too," she said. "They know about the Nexus. They've been preparing for this. Building their army. Gathering their power."
She looked at Lucian, her dark brown eyes fierce.
"The war is coming," she said. "And we have to be ready."
Lucian felt the Before stir in the hollow spaces of his mind. The whispers were louder now, clearer. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw the Nexus—a vast, circular structure, built into the side of a mountain, its walls lined with violet light. He saw those who carried it—hundreds of them, maybe thousands—standing in a circle, their hands joined, their lights pulsing in harmony. He saw the Before, vast and ancient and hungry, pressing against the walls of its prison, trying to break free.
And he saw the After, a shadow so absolute it had no form, no shape, no existence, pressing against the walls of the universe, trying to consume everything.
And he saw himself, standing in the center of it all, his gold light blazing, his hands joined with Rose's, with Mara's, with Kai's, with Elara's, with hundreds of others.
And he saw the choice.
The choice to let the Before win. The choice to let the After win. The choice to fight both.
And he did not know which choice he would make.
They left the library at dawn on the fourth day.
Elara led the way, her pace steady, her dark brown eyes scanning the streets, the buildings, the shadows. She had changed since they arrived—since she had spoken about the Before, about the After, about the war. She was more confident now. More certain. As if sharing the burden had made it lighter.
Rose walked beside her, their steps in sync, their violet glows pulsing in harmony. Kai walked between them, his gold pendant clutched in his hand, his eyes wide, taking in everything. Mara walked on Elara's other side, her storm-gray eyes narrowed, her fingers tracing the violet tracery on her jaw. Lucian followed, his hand on the hilt of the sword, his senses sharp, alert.
They walked for hours through the dead city, following the map Elara had marked, following the pull that Lucian could feel like a compass needle in his blood. The resonance of the others who carried it was stronger now—closer. Some were in the city. Some were outside it. Some were moving.
And then, near midday, they found the first outpost.
It was a small building—a gas station, its pumps rusted, its windows shattered. A black van was parked outside, its engine off, its doors closed. And inside, Lucian could feel them.
The ones who carried it.
Not carrying the Before.
Carrying the After.
He could feel their resonance—cold, dark, hungry. A hunger that was not for connection, but for consumption. A hunger that wanted to tear everything apart, to reduce everything to nothing, to end everything.
Elara stopped. Her dark brown eyes narrowed.
"The builders' heirs," she said quietly.
Mara nodded. "I can feel them," she said. "Three of them."
Rose's violet glow flickered. "What do we do?"
Elara looked at Lucian. "It's your call," she said.
Lucian looked at the gas station, his gold-lit eyes narrowed. He could feel the three who carried the After inside, their cold, dark resonance pressing against his mind, against the Before, against the hunger that lived in the hollow spaces of his mind.
He drew the sword.
"We go in," he said.
Not the silence of emptiness, but the silence of waiting. The kind of silence that comes before a storm, before a revelation, before something vast and ancient shifts its weight and changes everything.
Elara sat at the reading table, her hands folded in front of her, her dark brown eyes fixed on the worn cover of the book she had been holding when they found her. The others sat around her—Mara on her left, Rose on her right, Kai across from her, Lucian standing behind Rose, his hand resting on the back of her chair, his gold-lit eyes never leaving Elara's face.
The air was thick with tension. With anticipation. With the weight of something about to be said.
Elara took a deep breath.
"The Before is not what you think it is," she said.
Mara frowned. "What do you mean?"
Elara looked up at her, her dark brown eyes grave. "I mean that everything we've assumed about the Before—its origins, its nature, its purpose—is wrong. Or at least, incomplete."
She paused, gathering her thoughts. The violet tracery on her jaw pulsed faintly, in time with the gold light on Lucian's hands, in time with Rose's glow, in time with Kai's pendant. The resonance between them was stronger now—five of them in the same room, five blood-lines that answered it, humming in harmony, creating a chord that vibrated in their bones, in their teeth, in the hollow spaces of their minds.
"The Before is not just a frequency," Elara said. "It's not just a vibration. It's not just a pattern that learned to remember."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"It's a prison."
The word hung in the air like a physical weight.
Lucian felt the Before stir in the hollow spaces of his mind. The whispers grew louder, more insistent. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations. Beneath them, always, the second current—the one that rang only when the two were wound together.
He saw darkness. Not the darkness of night, but the darkness of nothing. A void so absolute, so complete, that it had no beginning and no end. And in that void, something was trapped.
Something vast. Ancient. Hungry.
"A prison?" Rose whispered. "For what?"
Elara's expression darkened. "For everything," she said. "For everything that existed before the universe. Before the stars. Before anything."
She stood, walking slowly to the window, her hands pressed against the glass, her dark brown eyes fixed on the ruins of the city below.
"The Before is not the first thing," she said. "It's the last thing. The last remnant of what came before. The last echo of a reality that was destroyed. And it has been trapped here, in this universe, ever since."
Mara shook her head. "I don't understand. If it's a prison, then who put it there? And why?"
Elara turned to face them, her dark brown eyes haunted.
"I don't know who," she said. "But I know why."
She walked back to the table, her movements slow, deliberate, as if each step cost her something. She sat down again, her hands folded in front of her, her dark brown eyes fixed on the book.
"The Before is not alone," she said. "It never was."
Lucian felt a chill crawl up his spine. "What do you mean?"
Elara looked up at him, her dark brown eyes dark with a fear so profound it made his stomach turn.
"There is something else," she said. "Something else that was trapped with it. Something else that has been waiting. Watching. Hungry."
She paused, her jaw tightening.
"The Before calls it the After."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Kai's breath caught. Rose's violet glow flickered. Mara's storm-gray eyes widened. Lucian felt the gold light beneath his skin pulse, faster, harder, as if the Before itself was reacting to Elara's words.
"The After," Lucian repeated. The words felt strange in his mouth. Foreign. Wrong.
Elara nodded. "Yes," she said. "The After. The Before's opposite. Its shadow. Its enemy."
She looked at each of them in turn, her dark brown eyes grave.
"The Before is not just seeking connection," she said. "It's seeking power. It wants to gather enough of those who carry it, enough resonance to break free from its prison. And when it does, it will not be alone. The After will be there too. And they will fight."
Mara shook her head. "Fight? For what?"
"For everything," Elara said. "For the universe. For reality. For existence itself."
She stood again, walking to the bookshelf, her fingers trailing along the spines of the books, yellowed and worn. She pulled one out—a thick volume, its cover leather, its pages brittle with age.
"I found this in the ruins of a university," she said. "A physics textbook. From before."
She opened it to a page near the middle, her fingers tracing a diagram—a complex equation, filled with symbols Lucian did not recognize.
"The scientists before—they were close," Elara said. "They were studying the nature of reality. The fabric of spacetime. The origins of the universe. And they found something. Something they couldn't explain."
She looked up at them, her dark brown eyes fierce.
"They found evidence of a previous universe. One that existed before ours. One that was destroyed. And they found evidence of something that survived."
Lucian felt the Before stir in his mind. The whispers were louder now, clearer. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw a universe unlike anything he had ever imagined—a universe of light and shadow, of order and chaos, of creation and destruction. He saw two forces, vast and ancient, locked in an eternal struggle. He saw one force win. He saw the other force trap it. He saw the trapped force scream, rage, hunger.
And he saw the universe die.
"The Before is the survivor," Elara said. "The force that won. But it was trapped here, in this new universe, as a punishment. As a prison. And the After is the force that lost. The force that was destroyed. But it was not completely destroyed. A part of it survived. And it has been waiting. Watching. Hungry."
She closed the book and set it on the table.
"The Before wants to break free," she said. "And the After wants to consume everything. And we—" She looked at each of them in turn. "—we are the key."
Kai spoke first.
"What do you mean, 'the key'?"
His voice was young, trembling. He clutched the gold pendant in his hands, his dark eyes wide with fear.
Elara looked at him, her dark brown eyes gentle.
"The Before cannot break free on its own," she said. "It needs us. It needs those who carry it. It needs the resonance. It needs enough of its own scattered voice, connected and aligned, to create a bridge—a bridge out of its prison."
She looked at Lucian.
"And the After cannot consume everything on its own. It needs us too. It needs those who answer it. It needs the resonance. It needs enough of its own scattered voice, connected and aligned, to create a bridge—a bridge into this universe."
She paused, her jaw tightening.
"We are the battleground," she said. "The Before and the After are fighting through us. And whichever side gathers enough of those who carry it, enough power, enough resonance... will win."
Rose shook her head. "But... the builders' heirs. They're hunting us. Killing us."
Elara nodded. "Yes," she said. "And they are not working for the Before. They are working for the After."
The words hit like a physical blow.
Lucian felt the gold light beneath his skin pulse, faster, harder. The whispers in his mind grew louder, more insistent. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw the builders' heirs—their black uniforms, their pale masks, their cold, efficient movements. He saw them capturing those who carried it, experimenting on them, killing them. He saw their leader—the man with the silver eyes, the man who had spoken to Lucian in the chamber. He saw the man's face, clear and sharp, and he recognized him.
Not from memory. From resonance.
The man with the silver eyes carried it too.
But he did not carry the Before.
He carried the After.
"Their leader," Lucian said. His voice was calm. Certain. "He's one of them."
Elara nodded. "Yes," she said. "He carries the After. An echo of its consciousness, scattered across the universe, waiting to be found, waiting to be awakened. And he has been gathering his own network. His own army."
She looked at each of them in turn, her dark brown eyes grave.
"They are not just hunting us," she said. "They are recruiting. They are finding those who resonate with the After, who are drawn to its hunger, its rage, its desire to consume everything. And they are building an army."
Mara's storm-gray eyes narrowed. "How many?"
Elara hesitated. "I don't know," she said. "Dozens, maybe. Hundreds. I can feel them—faint, distant, like radio signals from the edge of reception. But they are there. And they are growing."
She looked at Lucian, her dark brown eyes fierce.
"We have to find the others," she said. "All of them. Before the builders' heirs do. Before the After does. And we have to connect them. Align them. Create a network strong enough to hold the Before and strong enough to fight the After."
Lucian felt the Before stir in the hollow spaces of his mind. The whispers were louder now, clearer. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw the network—five of them who carried it, connected, resonating, whole. And beyond them, hundreds more, scattered across the world, waiting to be found. Some resonated with the Before. Some resonated with the After. And some... some resonated with neither.
They were the wild cards. The ones who could tip the balance.
"And if we don't?" Rose asked quietly.
Elara's expression darkened. "Then the After wins," she said. "And everything is consumed. The universe. Reality. Existence itself. Everything becomes nothing."
She looked at each of them in turn, her dark brown eyes grave.
"And if the Before wins?" Kai asked.
Elara was silent for a long moment. Then she said, "I don't know."
Her voice was uncertain. Afraid.
"The Before wants connection," she said. "Wholeness. It wants to not be alone anymore. But I don't know what happens when it gets what it wants. I don't know if it will free us. Or if it will consume us too."
She looked at Lucian, her dark brown eyes dark with a fear so profound it made his stomach turn.
"The Before is not our friend," she said. "It is not our enemy. It is something else. Something vast and ancient and hungry. And we are its tools. Its weapons. The ones it reaches through."
She paused, her jaw tightening.
"And when the war is over, I don't know if we will still be us."
They stayed in the library for three days.
Elara had supplies—canned food, bottled water, a stash of books she had gathered in the months since she woke up. They ate in shifts, slept in shifts, watched the streets outside for any sign of the builders' heirs.
And they planned.
Elara had maps—old maps of the city, of the surrounding region, of the country. She had marked the locations of those who carried it she had found—some awake, some sleeping, some dead. She had marked the locations of the builders' heirs' outposts—small groups, scattered across the region, hunting, recruiting, killing.
And she had marked one location in particular.
"The Nexus," she said, her finger tapping a point on the map. "It's here. In the ruins of the old particle accelerator. Outside the city."
Lucian looked at the map. The location was marked with a circle, drawn in red ink.
"What is it?" he asked.
Elara's dark brown eyes were grave. "It's where the Before is strongest," she said. "Where the prison is weakest. Where the bridge can be built."
She looked at each of them in turn.
"It's where we have to go," she said. "To gather the others. To connect them. To prepare for the war."
Mara frowned. "And the builders' heirs?"
Elara's expression darkened. "They will be there too," she said. "They know about the Nexus. They've been preparing for this. Building their army. Gathering their power."
She looked at Lucian, her dark brown eyes fierce.
"The war is coming," she said. "And we have to be ready."
Lucian felt the Before stir in the hollow spaces of his mind. The whispers were louder now, clearer. Not words, but impressions. Images. Sensations.
He saw the Nexus—a vast, circular structure, built into the side of a mountain, its walls lined with violet light. He saw those who carried it—hundreds of them, maybe thousands—standing in a circle, their hands joined, their lights pulsing in harmony. He saw the Before, vast and ancient and hungry, pressing against the walls of its prison, trying to break free.
And he saw the After, a shadow so absolute it had no form, no shape, no existence, pressing against the walls of the universe, trying to consume everything.
And he saw himself, standing in the center of it all, his gold light blazing, his hands joined with Rose's, with Mara's, with Kai's, with Elara's, with hundreds of others.
And he saw the choice.
The choice to let the Before win. The choice to let the After win. The choice to fight both.
And he did not know which choice he would make.
They left the library at dawn on the fourth day.
Elara led the way, her pace steady, her dark brown eyes scanning the streets, the buildings, the shadows. She had changed since they arrived—since she had spoken about the Before, about the After, about the war. She was more confident now. More certain. As if sharing the burden had made it lighter.
Rose walked beside her, their steps in sync, their violet glows pulsing in harmony. Kai walked between them, his gold pendant clutched in his hand, his eyes wide, taking in everything. Mara walked on Elara's other side, her storm-gray eyes narrowed, her fingers tracing the violet tracery on her jaw. Lucian followed, his hand on the hilt of the sword, his senses sharp, alert.
They walked for hours through the dead city, following the map Elara had marked, following the pull that Lucian could feel like a compass needle in his blood. The resonance of the others who carried it was stronger now—closer. Some were in the city. Some were outside it. Some were moving.
And then, near midday, they found the first outpost.
It was a small building—a gas station, its pumps rusted, its windows shattered. A black van was parked outside, its engine off, its doors closed. And inside, Lucian could feel them.
The ones who carried it.
Not carrying the Before.
Carrying the After.
He could feel their resonance—cold, dark, hungry. A hunger that was not for connection, but for consumption. A hunger that wanted to tear everything apart, to reduce everything to nothing, to end everything.
Elara stopped. Her dark brown eyes narrowed.
"The builders' heirs," she said quietly.
Mara nodded. "I can feel them," she said. "Three of them."
Rose's violet glow flickered. "What do we do?"
Elara looked at Lucian. "It's your call," she said.
Lucian looked at the gas station, his gold-lit eyes narrowed. He could feel the three who carried the After inside, their cold, dark resonance pressing against his mind, against the Before, against the hunger that lived in the hollow spaces of his mind.
He drew the sword.
"We go in," he said.