Chapter 28
Subterranean Chamber, Trinity Church, 3p.m.
Katherine took a halting step toward her brother.
"Peter…?"
He looked the same—stoic, composed—but there was a strange hollowness in his gaze, as if his consciousness had been… dimmed. His posture was stiff, his expression neutral, unblinking.
Langdon's heart pounded.
"What did you do to him, Lowell?"
Lowell stood beside the amplifier like a priest before an altar.
"Nothing he didn't agree to. Peter believed, as I do, that memory is the next great battlefield. That the future won't be shaped by power or wealth, but by what we choose to remember." He circled Peter like a sculptor admiring his masterpiece.
"We needed a host. A conduit. Someone with the intellectual capacity to endure full resonance exposure. Your brother volunteered."
Katherine shook her head in disbelief.
"That's impossible. He would never—"
"He already has,"
Lowell interrupted, gesturing toward the machine.
"His mind holds fragments of all three amplifiers now. Prague. London. And here. Once we finalize the synchronization…"
He tapped the console.
"…his thoughts will no longer be his own. They'll be everyone's."
Langdon stared at the shimmering sphere. "You're not just activating the amplifier. You're uploading a mind."
Lowell smiled. "A mind carefully curated. A historian. A Mason. A man who has spent his life collecting wisdom and secrets. Who better to become the new Archive of Humanity?" Katherine's voice cracked.
"You've turned my brother into a library." Lowell shrugged. "Or a temple. Perspective is everything."
Lenka stepped forward, gun drawn.
"Back away. Now."
Lowell laughed.
"You think bullets can stop this?"
In that instant, Peter stirred. His lips parted.
"…Katherine…" She froze.
"…stop… me…" A tremor rippled through the chamber. The amplifier began to glow, low and red like a beating heart. Symbols on the console pulsed faster.
Langdon grabbed Katherine's arm.
"We have minutes, maybe less."
Lowell turned to a control panel embedded in the wall and pressed a sequence of buttons.
"This room is shielded. You won't be able to transmit anything. But I will. Once his mind merges, I'll broadcast him into the global noetic cloud. He'll be immortal.
Omnipresent."
Katherine whispered, "You mean enslaved." Lowell raised his hand.
"Better a perfect memory than a flawed legacy."
Lenka fired.
A deafening crack shattered the tension as the bullet struck the console. Sparks erupted, and the lights flickered.
Lowell stumbled back, eyes wide.
Peter collapsed to his knees, clutching his head.
The amplifier let out a strange sound—part tone, part breath—like a whale exhaling through time.
Langdon and Katherine rushed to Peter.
"Katherine…" he groaned, barely conscious. "…stop the chain…"
Lowell fled through a hidden passage, vanishing into the catacombs.
Katherine looked at Langdon.
"He's uploaded fragments. But the synchronization failed."
Langdon placed his hand on the amplifier's core.
It was still glowing.
And in the swirling metal, images flickered—ancient pyramids, genetic spirals, sacred texts, forgotten wars—all dancing inside a man's mind.
"We need to shut it down," Katherine whispered.
Langdon nodded.
"And then… we need to find where Lowell is going next."