Chapter 47 – The Founder’s Name

The door hissed open, heavy with rust and reinforced steel, revealing a chamber dimly lit by filament bulbs strung from exposed piping. The walls were lined with half-functional consoles, outdated maps, and rebel insignias scorched with wear. Colonel Makel stood at the far end, arms crossed, watching her with the cautious weight of a man who had trusted too often and been burned every time.

Elira stepped in, alone, composed, and unyielding. The door shut behind her with a hydraulic sigh.

"You came alone," Makel said. "That's brave."

"Not brave," Elira replied. "Necessary."

She walked forward without hesitation, stopping halfway between them. Her hand moved slowly to her chest, her system obeying with eerie quiet. The skin shimmered, then parted, revealing the glowing structure of the Purpose Core embedded beneath.

Makel's eyes widened. His body shifted ever so slightly into a combat stance. "You really brought it here... the Core."

"You asked for it," Elira said calmly. "But I have conditions."

The rebel leader didn't move at first. Then, in a flash, his hand shot to his holster and pulled his sidearm with practiced ease. He raised it level with her head.

"Then let me make a condition of my own," he growled. "You hand over the Core. Now. Or I don't care what you are—I shoot, and let my engineers rip it out of your spine."

For a breathless second, the chamber was a powder keg.

Then: click.

Nothing.

The gun fizzled, whined—and powered down entirely.

Makel's arm faltered. Confusion rippled across his face as he glanced at the weapon in disbelief. "What the—?"

"I disabled it," Elira said evenly. "Didn't touch your systems. Didn't have to."

She took a deliberate step forward, calm and composed, the glow from the Core casting sharp shadows across her features.

"You shouldn't have pointed that at me."

Makel looked between her and the inert weapon, unsettled in a way that had nothing to do with physical danger.

"That's not possible," he muttered. "No Virex servitor should be able to override our tech. Not without a backdoor."

"I don't need your systems," Elira said softly. "I am the system now."

The threat reversed itself, suddenly and completely.

She lifted her chin. "I came here for answers. And unless you'd like your entire outpost's network to go dark, I suggest you start talking."

Makel's hands slowly moved away from the weapon. His expression had changed—more wary now, but also something else. Respect, maybe. Or realization.

"You want to talk about Rian Tellar," he said, more a statement than a question.

"I need to," Elira replied. "I need to know who he was."

Makel eased himself into the chair behind his cluttered desk. For the first time, the leader of the rebels looked tired.

"Rian was more than our contact. He was our beginning. Our reason. The founder of the Resistance. A genius, a ghost… and my mentor."

Elira remained silent, absorbing every word.

"He built this movement from scraps and fire," Makel said, voice roughened by memory. "Knew the Virex system better than anyone. Fed us data. Weaknesses. Directions. Backdoors no outsider could've known. And then one day—he vanished."

Elira's breath caught.

"He never told me why. Or what he planned. But now… now I wonder if he left his legacy in you."

Her chest was still faintly glowing. The Core pulsed like a second heartbeat.

"Maybe he did," she said. "But I'm not just his legacy."

Makel studied her, truly studied her this time. The gun lay inert at his side. His bravado had drained, replaced with something far more cautious.

"And what are you then?"

Her eyes locked onto his.

"Something new."