Chapter 12: The First Crack
Time has a way of loosening tongues.
Chris had been in the facility long enough to understand that. When people think you've given up, when you stop shouting or crying or trying to escape… they start to talk.
And when they talk — secrets slip.
It was a Tuesday.
At least, the facility calendar said so. Chris stopped keeping track after his second year. But he remembered because of the soup. Every Tuesday they served a mushroom-something broth that tasted like wet cardboard.
He was sitting in the quiet corner of the lounge, sipping said cardboard soup, when he overheard it.
Two guards.
Whispering. Too quietly for most. But Chris? His perception had grown sharper. His ears were more than human now. Ever since the sync hit 50%, he heard more — felt more.
"I told you, it wasn't an accident. You think monsters just randomly target unmarked civvies like that?" "Shhh, man—walls have ears." "Yeah? Well they should hear this. Everyone keeps saying it, anyway. It was him. Baron Keillas."
Chris didn't move. Didn't blink. Just let his breath slow.
"Keillas... no way. He's a Noble. Titled." "Exactly. And Nobles get away with everything."
There was a pause.
"Why would he kill them? The kid's parents?" "Something to do with the Eye. Loose ends, maybe. Who knows. But it's true. They just made it look like a monster raid."
The second guard grunted.
"That's cold."
"Yeah. But welcome to Arcadia."
They walked off.
Chris stared into his soup.
His reflection stared back — calm, still, and utterly detached.
But something under the surface cracked.
That night, Chris sat in his room — his prison — staring at the Eye.
It floated gently in the air, flickering in slow, rhythmic pulses like a heartbeat.
"A Noble killed them?"
"Not monsters. Not some political incident. Not random bad luck."
"A person."
And worse?
The facility knew.
They knew, and they lied.
The coldness inside Chris didn't melt into fury. No — it condensed.
Like ice forming into a blade.
"I need more information," he whispered.
The Eye pulsed once.
"You agree?"
Another pulse. Slower. Almost understanding.
Chris sat cross-legged, fingers tapping against the floor in silent rhythm.
"No revenge. Not yet. I don't even have proof. Just whispers."
"But if there's a trail…"
"I'll find it."
He stood up.
The next few days, Chris began moving differently.
Subtly.
He asked more questions. Not about the Eye — about how the facility worked. About the ranking systems. About who visited. About clearance levels.
He found the cracks.
He mapped the blind spots in the observation logs.
He memorized the staff rotations, guard routes, shift changes.
He also began learning. More than just books this time.
He asked to be trained in etiquette, language refinement, political structure. He claimed it was to prepare for potential "release into society."
They bought it.
Or maybe… they wanted to believe he was settling down. That the eye-bearer was being tamed.
Chris let them believe it.
He even smiled more.
In the evenings, he trained in secret.
The Eye seemed to help now — lending strange, subtle guidance. His body grew stronger, sharper, without flashy stats.
But it was the mind that sharpened the most.
His [Observer's Calm] skill leveled up.
[Observer's Calm: Lv. 5 → Lv. 7]
[Bonus: Memory Retention +35%, Emotional Filtering +50%, Threat Assessment Unlocked]
And with it came a new addition to his panel.
[Passive Trait: Calm Storm]
Your emotions do not rule you.In moments of extreme anger or grief, gain clarity instead of chaos.Bonus to logic-based decisions under duress.
Two weeks later, he pulled his first thread.
Using a borrowed clearance chip (lifted subtly from a too-trusting researcher), he accessed a data terminal late at night.
At first, the files were mundane.
Logs. Reports. Energy scans.
Then he found the encrypted file:
[Case: Incident – Velhart Family – Year 2121]
Access: Restricted. Noble Clearance Required.
Override Code: [ ███ ███████ ███ ]
His fingers hovered.
"Too deep for now," he muttered.
"But this… this confirms it. There was a file."
He exited quickly. Burned no trail.
Chris sat on his bed that night, still as stone.
"It's real."
"I knew something was off that last visit."
He remembered the way his mother had smiled — too long. The way his father had squeezed his hand — too tight.
They knew.
They were saying goodbye.
Chris closed his eyes.
Still no tears.
But the ice inside him had formed a shape now. Purpose. A blueprint.
"I'll need help."
"I'll need leverage."
"And most of all… I'll need time."
He looked up at the Eye.
"You ready?"
The Eye blinked once.
Slow.
Then pulsed.
Somewhere far away, across Arcadia, Baron Keillas laughed over wine, toasting with other nobles. He did not know the boy was coming.
But he would.
One day.
And that day would not be kind.
[Sync Level: 50% → 55%]
[Progress Milestone: Awakened Intention Detected]
[New Skill Tree Unlocked: Schemer's Path]
[First Skill Obtained: Web of Echoes Lv. 1]
— Allows passive absorption of whispered truths and suppressed rumors within 30m.