Caught In The Lie

The adults laughed and talked, their voices blending with the hum of machinery.

Petya just smiled a simple, easy smile. Like nothing was wrong.

But Luka knew better.

He always did.

When Petya turned to him, his voice was light, almost playful.

"Luka, let's go play."

Luka didn't move at first because it wasn't an invitation,It was a test.

He wasn't stupid.

Petya didn't want to play. He wanted Luka away from the adults.

Luka hesitated, then nodded silently, following Petya.

But as he walked away, he felt it,his father's gaze on his back, watching.

Demid's eyes narrowed slightly.

Luka had never mentioned having friends before.

He was quiet. Kept to himself. Never asked to visit anyone, never invited anyone over.

So why now?

Demid turned to Petya, his voice casual but firm.

"Hey, Petya."

The boy paused. "Yes, Mr. Viazemsky?"

Demid crossed his arms. "Luka never talks about his friends at school. You two close?"

Luka hesitated.

For a split second, he considered telling the truth.

But before he could—

Petya answered first.

"Oh, yes! Luka has friends. He just doesn't like getting too close to anyone."

Luka stared at him.

That wasn't true.

But he didn't say anything.

Because if he spoke now, it would make things worse.

Demid raised an eyebrow, studying his son's face. "That right, Luka?"

Luka didn't move. Didn't react.

He just let Petya talk.

One of the workers chuckled. "Is that true, Luka? You don't like getting close to people?"

"Maybe he's just shy."

"Or maybe he's sad?"

Petya gave an exaggerated sigh. "Well... it might be because the kids laugh at Luka for not having jōki."

Luka's fingers twitched slightly.

He didn't flinch. Didn't lower his gaze.

But he felt the shift in the air the adults didn't seem bothered at first.

One of the workers simply shrugged. "Not everyone has jōki, kid. That's just how the world works."

But then—

Petya added something else.

Something he had never said in front of adults before.

"Yeah, but Luka's different. He can't even see or feel jōki."

A silence fell over the group,at first, they laughed, thinking it was a joke.

But when Luka didn't react... when Demid's face darkened...

The laughter faded.

Luka didn't move.

Didn't speak.

Because he had been caught.

His father's expression was unreadable, but his fists clenched at his sides,he understood now.

Petya wasn't Luka's friend.

He was his bully.

And his son—his own son—had been enduring this for who knows how long... and said nothing.

Demid's jaw tightened. "That's enough."

His voice was calm. Too calm.

Petya blinked, feigning innocence. "But it's true."

Demid's eyes snapped to him.

A sharp, cold glare.

Luka had never seen his father look at a child like that before.

"Enough!."

And for the first time, Petya hesitated.Before Demid could say anything else, Mr. Kravchenko chuckled.

"Come on, Viazemsky. They're just kids."

Demid turned to him, his jaw tight, his patience thin.

"Your kid just stood here and mocked my son in front of adults. And you're telling me it's just kids being kids?"

Kravchenko shrugged. "They're young. You know how it is. Petya didn't mean anything by it."

Demid exhaled through his nose.

The argument was pointless.

People like Kravchenko never cared unless it affected them directly.

His fingers twitched—he wanted to keep going.

But then—

Luka spoke.

Softly. "Papa."

Demid looked down,Luka's face was neutral as always but

his fingers were curled slightly into his sleeves, his body held too stiffly.

"It's okay. I didn't come here for this. I came to learn about the mine."

His voice was steady. Measured.

But Demid saw it.

Luka didn't want to be here anymore and that hurt more than anything,Demid exhaled, running a hand through his hair.

"You're right, son."

He turned back to Kravchenko. "If you'll excuse us."

Without another word, he walked away.

Luka followed and as Demid passed Petya, he didn't say anything.

He just... looked at him.

And Petya for the first time since Luka had known him,shifted uncomfortably.

Mr Kravchenko, on the other hand, looked pleased.

He patted Petya's shoulder, grinning. "Good boy."

Luka watched and for some reason, that made his stomach hurt.

The walk back to the bike was quiet.

Luka didn't speak.

Demid didn't either.

But Luka knew.

Knew his father was thinking.

Knew his father was angry.

But Luka had been caught.

His father had told him not to lie.

And yet, he had been lying this whole time.

Finally, Demid sighed, rubbing his forehead.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Luka blinked. "Tell you what?"

Demid's jaw tightened slightly. "That this was happening."

Luka looked down.

Thought about it.

Then, quietly—

"Because I didn't need to."

Demid stared at him.

That answer,that voice was too calm,too even,it wasn't a child's answer.

It wasn't a lie.

Luka truly believed what he said.

That made something twist in Demid's chest.

He sighed heavily, rubbing the back of his neck.

Then, without another word, he placed a large, warm hand on Luka's head,he wasn't angry just disappointed.

Luka didn't understand.

His father should be mad.

But he wasn't.

And for some reason...

That confused him more than anything.

Luka barely had time to process what had happened with Petya when the blaring sound of an alarm filled the mining complex.

The workers stopped what they were doing, heads turning in unison.

They already knew.

The military had arrived.

Demid sighed, running a hand through his hair. Then, he patted Luka's head.

"We'll talk at home, alright?"

Luka nodded silently, still turning over the conversation from before.

But for now... he was curious.

As they stepped outside, the air was tense.

Rows of black military trucks were lined up in formation, perfectly symmetrical. Each one had the emblem of the Kislevian Armed Forces—a silver eagle clutching a sword.

But it wasn't the cars that caught Luka's attention.

It was what was above them.

Floating just behind the convoy, like silent shadows, were massive metallic drones.

They weren't like the hospital robots.

They weren't like the mining machines.

They were dark, armored, humming with barely contained power.

Tanks. Floating tanks.

There were so many, Luka lost count at twenty.

His fingers curled slightly.

Why would they bring this much firepower... just for some Noor?

"Papa,Who are they guarding?"

Demid smiled, though there was something distant in his eyes.

"An important person. He's a sergeant."

Luka blinked. "What's that?"

Demid chuckled. "A high-ranking soldier."

Luka frowned slightly. "Higher than you?"

His father hesitated for a fraction of a second. Then, he grinned.

"Of course. I just move rocks for a living, kid."

The vehicles came to a perfect stop, dust kicking up in the air.

The soldiers stepped out in complete synchronization, their dark uniforms crisp, faces unreadable.

And then—

A man emerged from the center vehicle.

He was tall, built like a soldier but refined, disciplined. His military uniform was flawless, a row of medals pinned to his chest. His sharp glasses reflected the sunlight, hiding his eyes.

The workers saluted immediately.

Even the boss, Kravchenko, straightened up, lifting his hand in a perfect salute.

But then—

The sergeant's expression shifted.

His eyes landed on Demid.

And widened.

Demid, standing there without a care in the world, just grinned.

"Orlov. Long time."

The sergeant broke formation completely.

Without hesitation, he strode forward and to everyone's shock, hugged Demid.

The workers stared.

Even Kravchenko looked confused.

Luka just watched.

Who was his father?

After a moment, Orlov pulled back, clapping Demid on the shoulder. "You look like hell."

Demid chuckled. "And you still act like you're above everyone else."

Orlov smirked. "That's because I am."

The workers shifted uncomfortably.

Kravchenko, still forcing a polite smile, finally cleared his throat.

"Sergeant, if I may... how do you and Mr. Viazemsky know each other?"

Orlov turned slightly, adjusting his glasses.

Then, in a tone so casual it felt like an afterthought—

"Demid was the former General Head of the Kislevian Military."

Silence.

A heavy, suffocating silence.

The workers froze.

Kravchenko's face twitched.

Luka... didn't understand.

His father?

A general?

But before he could ask anything, the workers erupted into whispers.

"What?"

"General? But he's just a miner..."

"Wait—does that mean he fought in the war?"

Demid just sighed, rubbing his temples. "Thanks for that, Orlov."

Orlov grinned. "What? Were you keeping it a secret?"

"Obviously."

Luka stared up at his father.

This man...

Who laughed so easily. Who taught him how to fish.

Who never seemed bothered by anything.

He used to be a warrior.

And he had never told Luka.