Chapter 6: Fractured Loyalties

The safe house was nothing more than a crumbling apartment hidden in the maze of the lower city. Its walls were stained with soot, and the air smelled of damp concrete. Sera shoved the door open, motioning Elián to follow. She slammed it shut behind them, bolting it twice before leaning against it, catching her breath.

Elián collapsed onto a rusted chair, his shoulder throbbing where the guard's baton had struck him. The room was dimly lit, the flicker of a single neon bulb casting jagged shadows across the peeling wallpaper.

"Is it always like this?" he muttered, wincing as he pressed his hand against his shoulder.

"Pretty much," Sera said, rummaging through a battered medkit. She tossed him a small vial of painkillers. "You'll get used to it. Or you won't. Either way, complaining won't help."

Elián glared at her but said nothing, swallowing the pills dry. His mind was spinning, replaying the night's events in fragments: the alarm, the guards, Oleg's sacrifice. And that voice. Cold. Commanding. They had known his name.

"Someone sold us out," he said finally, breaking the heavy silence.

Sera froze, her back to him. "What are you talking about?"

"They were waiting for us," Elián said, his voice low but firm. "That wasn't just bad luck. Someone told them we'd be there."

Sera turned slowly, her expression unreadable. "And you think it's one of us?"

"Do you have a better explanation?" Elián shot back.

For a moment, neither of them spoke. The hum of the city outside filled the void, a constant reminder of the world pressing in on them.

"Look," Sera said finally, her tone sharp, "I don't trust anyone. Not you, not Oleg, not even myself half the time. But if you start pointing fingers without proof, you'll tear this team apart before the system ever gets the chance."

Elián held her gaze, frustration simmering beneath the surface. "So what do we do? Just pretend everything's fine?"

"No," Sera said. "We find Oleg. And we make whoever's responsible pay."

The weight of her words settled over them like a storm cloud. Elián nodded slowly, though doubt gnawed at him.

Before they could say more, the sound of footsteps echoed from the hallway outside. Sera tensed, her cybernetic arm humming to life. She pressed a finger to her lips, motioning for Elián to stay quiet.

The footsteps stopped outside the door. A heavy knock followed.

"Who is it?" Sera demanded, her voice low and dangerous.

"It's me," came the muffled reply.

Elián's heart skipped a beat. He recognized the voice instantly.

Oleg.

Sera hesitated, her eyes narrowing. "Prove it."

There was a pause. Then Oleg spoke again. "The first song you ever sang to your sister was 'The Lighthouse.' You were eight. She said you sounded like a broken record."

Sera's face softened, but only slightly. She unlocked the door and opened it a crack. Oleg stumbled in, his face bruised and bloodied, but alive.

"What happened?" Elián asked, rushing to help him to a chair.

"Ambush," Oleg said, his voice hoarse. "Barely got out. Took a different route back to throw them off."

Sera handed him a water bottle, which he accepted gratefully. As he drank, Elián studied him closely. Something about his story didn't add up.

"How'd you get away?" Elián asked, his tone careful.

Oleg's gaze flicked to him, sharp and assessing. "Luck. And a bit of help from an old friend."

"Who?" Sera demanded.

Oleg hesitated, the briefest flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "Doesn't matter. What matters is that we're still in the game."

Elián exchanged a glance with Sera. Neither of them looked convinced.

"Look," Oleg said, leaning forward despite the pain etched into his features. "We need to regroup. Whatever happened tonight, we can't let it stop us. The system is still vulnerable, and we're closer than ever to taking it down."

Sera nodded slowly, but Elián remained silent, his mind racing. Oleg's words were persuasive, but the doubt lingered.

Had Oleg truly escaped by chance? Or was he hiding something?