I didn't sleep.
How could I?
Between the interrogation (read: hot wall pinning) from Kael, the hidden rebel informant you're supposed to find, and the system having a meltdown in your brain like a drama queen. Yeah, sleep didn't stand a chance.
Instead, I waited.
Waited for the hour where silence stretched too long, and even the guards started blinking slower.
And then I slipped out of the room.
Barefoot. Cloaked. Tiptoeing? Well no, I'm lightweight. My feet don't make a sound. Lucky.
[SYSTEM 707: Host, for the record, this is a bad idea.]
"So is trusting a hot commander, and look where we are now."
[SYSTEM 707: …Touché.]
I kept to the shadows, ears straining for any noise.
This palace was a maze of secrets. But I had one advantage: my memory.
Every step, every turn, every small crack in the wall was catalogued. Just like back in World Zero. (Back when I died. Oops.)
The informant had to be here.
The mission said "palace." It didn't say "alive."
So maybe a ghost with answers? A corpse with a clue? A locked room no one spoke of?
I followed instinct.
And eventually, it led me to the library.
Because of course it did.
It wasn't the grand royal library. This one was smaller. Forgotten and dusty.
I carefully slipped inside, nose tickled by the scent of old pages and candle smoke.
The second I crossed the threshold, my skin prickled.
Someone else was here.
A soft thunk. A shelf shifting. The brush of cloth.
I quickly dropped low, sliding behind a table.
Footsteps. Light and quick moved across the room. Not guards, it's too soft. Not Kael. Too erratic.
I peeked out.
A figure in dark gray, hood up, was kneeling by one of the far shelves. They pulled a book halfway out, then reached into the wall behind it.
I heard a Click and a hidden compartment opened.
I crept forward, step by step. My breath barely whispers.
Then, just as I was a meter away. My foot grazed the edge of a book.
It fell.
CLACK.
The figure snapped around. Eyes wide.
And they ran.
"Hey!" I shouted, bolting after them.
The chase was fast and messy. Through dusty corridors. Past the stairwells. Down, down, deeper underground.
They were fast. But I was faster.
Corner. Wall. Dead end.
They turned to fight.
I didn't give them the chance. With a quick shoulder-check, I pinned them, my body pressed to theirs. Breath ragged.
"Who are you?" I growled.
And then the hood fell.
A girl. Young. Eyes sharp. Face bruised.
"Are you an informant?"
She said nothing.
Until she spoke, "They're watching," she hissed.
"You need to—" Then her eyes widened.
Too late.
A blade pierced her from behind. Making me stagger back.
The figure behind her, a man in uniform met my gaze for a heartbeat before vanishing into the dark.
I dropped to my knees beside her. She was bleeding out, fast.
"Shit- hey, stay with me—"
She grabbed my wrist, I can basically feel her strength failing. And then she whispered,
"Red thread… Commander… not what he seems…"
Then she slumped dead.
I sat there, heart hammering, her blood staining my hands.
Not just from the girl. From the truth she just dropped like a live grenade.
The Commander. Kael?
I didn't know what he was. But I know now. He was mostly.. maybe hiding something.
[SYSTEM 707: Host, the thread's been pulled.]
[SYSTEM 707: You have three days left.]
[SYSTEM 707: And trust is no longer on the table.]