Ch 79: The Search for Truth

Mira sat in the dimly lit corner of a back-alley bar, the scent of burnt tobacco and cheap liquor hanging thick in the air. The place was loud, filled with mercenaries, smugglers, and criminals—people who lived outside the law, yet were still bound by the invisible rules of the underworld.

She wasn't here for a job. Not tonight.

A small data pad rested on the table before her, its screen flickering with encrypted messages. Her contact was running late. Typical.

She wasn't impatient, though.

In the past few weeks, she had taken a step back from the relentless pace of contract work. It wasn't hesitation—it was caution.

Her last major contract, escorting the Consortium official, had left a lingering unease. She had assumed she was protecting a high-value target from possible assassins, but as she dug deeper, it became clear that her role had been something else entirely.

Bait.

A distraction.

And worse—just one small piece of a much larger game.

She tapped the edge of the glass in front of her, the amber liquid inside untouched. The whispers she had been chasing all pointed to one unsettling truth: mercenaries like her were being used, manipulated into unknowingly shaping conflicts between factions operating far beyond the Blanks.

And Mira didn't like being played.

The man she was waiting for finally arrived. Dressed in a worn-out jacket, his face was lined with years of experience, yet his eyes still held the sharpness of someone who survived on information.

"Ronan," Mira greeted coolly.

He gave her a nod, slipping into the seat across from her. "You're asking dangerous questions, Mira."

She smirked. "If they weren't dangerous, they wouldn't be worth asking."

Ronan let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "You never change." He slid a small drive across the table. "This is what I managed to pull. But I'll warn you now, there are names in here that don't like being looked at."

Mira picked up the drive and turned it between her fingers. "They should've done a better job covering their tracks, then."

"Arrogance," Ronan said simply. "Powerful people tend to believe they're untouchable. Until someone like you comes along."

She arched a brow. "Flattery won't get you a discount."

Ronan chuckled. "Didn't think it would."

Back at her rented safehouse, Mira plugged the drive into her personal terminal. The decryption process took a few minutes, and then lines of data scrolled across the screen.

She leaned forward, scanning through financial records, mission logs, and communication intercepts.

Patterns began to emerge.

She had assumed that each contract she took was separate—isolated jobs with no real connection. But here, laid out in hard data, the truth was clear.

Certain mercenary groups, including herself, had been deployed in targeted operations. Assassinations, extractions, and even 'protection' details had all been carefully orchestrated, feeding into conflicts that weren't as random as they seemed.

And the Consortium?

They weren't just one of the many factions.

They were one of the biggest players.

Her last few contracts had been directly tied to their hidden operations. The officials she had escorted weren't just traveling for business—they were moving assets, setting up power shifts in places far beyond the Blanks.

Mira exhaled slowly.

Someone had been using her blade for their own ends.

She couldn't let this go.

Over the next few days, she pursued every lead she could.

She met with old contacts—former soldiers turned drifters, information brokers who traded secrets for favors, and mercs who had seen too much but lived long enough to regret it.

Their stories all pointed to the same thing:

There was a bigger world out there, one she had barely glimpsed.

The Blanks were just a small piece of the puzzle.

Beyond them, outside the territories she knew, real power struggles were happening—wars fought in the shadows, where entire cities could be wiped out before anyone even knew a battle had begun.

She found traces of other factions—groups that weren't just rivals to the Consortium but equals. Organizations with their own hidden armies, their own advanced technology, their own ruthless agendas.

Mira had spent years honing her skills, believing she understood the battlefield.

But now, she realized she had only been standing on the edge of something far larger.

Late one night, Mira stood on the rooftop of her safehouse, staring out at the cityscape.

The neon glow of Gron illuminated the skyline, a testament to the power and ambition that ruled this place.

She had two choices.

She could keep doing what she had always done—take contracts, make money, survive. She was good at it. It was simple.

But she knew herself well enough to recognize that she wouldn't be able to let this go.

The pieces didn't fit together yet, but they would.

And to understand the full picture, she needed to step beyond the borders she had always known.

She needed to see this grander world for herself.

Her time in Gron was coming to an end.

Mira smirked to herself.

It was time to start planning her next move.