Page 164 of Fractured Loyalties
Elias touches the console, and the screen flashes immediately, illuminating his face in a sharp, ghostly glow. Data cascades rapidly—names, dates, encrypted fragments spilling into view too fast to comprehend fully.
Elias’s fingers dance expertly, sifting swiftly through layers of information until something makes him freeze.
“What is it?” I move closer, peering over his shoulder.
Elias is silent for a moment, the muscles in his jaw tight. “It’s everything. Volker's surveillance—on me, my network, my past. He's tracked every connection I've ever made.”
I scan the screen, recognition tightening my chest. Photos of Elias, conversations recorded, missions documented. A meticulous catalog of Elias's life. Anger coils hotly within me, fury at how thoroughly Volker has invaded Elias’s existence. But beneath the rage is a chilling fear—the realization that Elias was never truly free from his past.
Kinley steps closer, his gaze fixed on a particular section. “He’s not just gathering information. Look here—these are compliance codes.”
Elias stiffens. “He planned on rewriting us, forcing loyalty through psychological conditioning. Submission loops.”
The words send ice trickling down my spine. “Then why destroy everything? Why let us see it?”
“To make a point,” Elias growls softly, eyes darkening. “He’s telling us we’re not free, even now.”
Kinley’s voice is grim. “Or that he can rebuild this whenever he wants.”
The console flashes again, this time highlighting a single file prominently in the center. Elias hesitates for a heartbeat, then opens it.
It’s a video feed, grainy but unmistakable. A figure in shadow, moving toward the camera. I lean in closer, my breath catching painfully when the figure emerges clearly into view.
"Jori," Kinley says before I can ask questions.
Elias’s sharp intake of breath echoes my shock. He's truly alive.
The video loops, a haunting replay.
"Volker didn’t just lie," Elias murmurs. "He turned Jori into his weapon."
The room falls quiet, filled only with the hum of machinery, the weight of revelation settling heavy over us all.
We’re no longer fighting ghosts.
We’re facing something much darker—the corrupted truths of the people Elias once trusted most.
Elias stands frozen, staring at the looping footage of Jori. I feel the tension radiating from him, see the storm in his eyes—shock, disbelief, betrayal. My hand finds his arm gently, offering silent support.
"What does this mean for us?" I whisper, breaking the heavy silence.
Elias’s jaw clenches. "It means Volker has his ultimate leverage against me."
Kinley steps closer, studying Elias. "Volker isn't just collecting intel; he's destroying your foundation piece by piece. Jori being alive is his ace."
"How long have you known?" Elias's voice is low, dangerous, barely controlled. "Exactly how long have you known Jori was alive?"
Kinley meets Elias’s gaze steadily, not flinching from the accusation. "Long enough. I suspected Volker was holding Jori as his ace, but I never had proof—until now."
"Then why help us?" Elias demands sharply.
Kinley's expression hardens. "Because Volker doesn’t leave loose ends. I was marked next. Aligning with you isn't charity—it's survival."
Elias considers him silently, then nods, accepting this uneasy alliance. He returns to the console, rapidly sifting through data, unearthing more hidden truths. Each revelation adds weight to the dread pooling within me.
Suddenly, Elias pauses again. "Mara," he whispers gravely, gesturing at the screen. I step closer, my breath hitching sharply at the images I see.
Surveillance photos of me. At the clinic, at my apartment—private moments laid bare, my life turned inside out.
