Chapter 07

Kael watched the retreat of their forces from the command deck, their fingers tapping a calculated rhythm on the console. They’d taken a hit today, but they had what they needed to shift the balance.

“Status report,” Kael commanded, their voice calm and precise.

An officer in a sleek uniform turned, his face pale. “The palace defenses held, but we retrieved the data from the eastern sector.”

Kael’s lips curved into a cold smile beneath their helmet. “Then the diversion worked. They’re more predictable than I thought. Let Ronan savor his hollow victory. When we strike again, he’ll have nowhere to run.”

The officer hesitated. “What about the human, Lila? She’s... unaccounted for in our projections. Her presence—”

“Her presence is irrelevant,” Kael interrupted, their tone sharp. “She’s a distraction. Ronan’s weakness.” They turned toward the viewport, their gaze fixed on the flickering lights of Ronan’s stronghold in the distance. “Ronan believes in loyalty, in the strength of bonds. That’s why he’ll fall. Loyalty is fragile, and his is already cracking.”

Back at the palace, the atmosphere was tense but hopeful. Despite the Syndicate’s retreat, there was no celebration. The soldiers knew it was a temporary reprieve, not a victory.

Lila stood in the war room, poring over the map of their defenses with Ronan and his remaining advisors. Her injuries from the ambush had healed enough for her to move with purpose, though the dull ache in her side served as a constant reminder of how close she’d come to death.

“You handled yourself well out there,” Ronan said, his voice low as he leaned over the map beside her.

She glanced up at him, her expression serious. “We barely held them off. If Kael attacks again, we won’t be so lucky.”

“We’ll be ready,” he replied.

Lila shook her head. “Not with the way things are now. Your soldiers are strong, but they’re fighting with desperation, not strategy.”

“What are you suggesting?”

She pointed to the map, tracing the Syndicate’s probable supply routes. “We need to hit their resources. We cut off their fuel, their weapons—everything they need to maintain this assault.”

One of the older advisors, a burly man named Haldrin, scoffed. “And how do you propose we do that? Walk into their camps and ask nicely?”

Lila met his gaze with steely determination. “No. We use their tactics against them. Infiltration. Sabotage. Take out their supply chain and force them to spread themselves thin.”

Haldrin opened his mouth to argue, but Ronan raised a hand to silence him.

“She’s right,” he said. “We can’t keep fighting on their terms. Lila’s plan is risky, but it’s the best chance we have.”

Lila’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and anxiety. Ronan’s trust in her was humbling, but the weight of responsibility was heavier than she’d expected.

Unbeknownst to them, Kael had already begun executing their own sabotage plan. Under the cover of night, a small team of Syndicate operatives infiltrated the palace. Their goal wasn’t destruction—it was information.

The operatives moved with eerie precision, their black armor blending seamlessly into the shadows. They bypassed patrols, disabled surveillance systems, and reached the palace’s central databank without raising an alarm.

“Download complete,” one of them whispered, their voice distorted through a helmet communicator.

But as they turned to leave, a sharp clang echoed through the corridor. A guard had stumbled upon them, his weapon raised.

“Intruders!” the guard shouted, firing a warning shot.

The operatives reacted instantly, taking him down with ruthless efficiency. The alarm blared moments later, throwing the entire palace into chaos.

Lila was in the war room when the alarm sounded. Her communicator crackled with frantic reports from the guards.

“Infiltrators! They’re heading for the east wing!”

Ronan’s expression darkened. “They’re after something.”

“The databanks,” Lila realized, her stomach sinking. “If they’ve already breached that far—”

“We stop them,” Ronan said, grabbing his weapon and heading for the door.

Lila followed without hesitation, her blade in hand.

The infiltrators were cornered in the east wing, their escape blocked by Ronan and his forces. Lila stood at Ronan’s side, her heart pounding as she faced the black-armored figures.

“Drop the data,” Ronan commanded, his voice cold.

One of the operatives stepped forward, their helmet tilting slightly. “You’re too late, Zombie King.”

Ronan’s blade flashed as he lunged, cutting down the speaker in a single stroke. The remaining operatives opened fire, and the corridor erupted into chaos.

Lila fought with everything she had, her movements fueled by adrenaline and determination. Beside her, Ronan was a whirlwind of power, his glowing energy cutting through the enemy like a storm.

When the dust settled, only one operative remained, pinned under Ronan’s boot.

“Who sent you?” he growled, his blade poised to strike.

The operative laughed, the sound distorted and hollow. “You already know the answer. And soon, you’ll know betrayal.”

Before Ronan could respond, the operative activated a self-destruct device, disintegrating into a cloud of ash and leaving nothing behind.

In the aftermath of the ambush, the palace was on high alert. Ronan and Lila returned to the war room, their exhaustion palpable.

“That wasn’t just sabotage,” Lila said, pacing the room. “They wanted us to know they were here.”

“They’re trying to divide us,” Ronan agreed. “Sow distrust.”

“But why did they mention betrayal?” Lila asked, her brow furrowed. “It has to mean something.”

Varen stepped forward, his expression grim. “Because they’re right.”

Lila froze. “What are you talking about?”

Varen hesitated, then pulled a small device from his pocket—a communicator bearing the Syndicate’s insignia.

“I’ve been feeding them information,” he admitted, his voice steady but remorseful.

Ronan’s silver eyes blazed with fury. “Why?”

“Izael promised to spare my family,” Varen said. “But the Syndicate doesn’t care about bargains. When I realized what they were planning, I tried to stop—”

“You betrayed us,” Ronan growled, his voice filled with cold anger.

“I betrayed them,” Varen corrected, stepping closer. “The data they downloaded—it’s a trap. I gave them false coordinates. If you act quickly, you can intercept their next move and turn this war around.”

Ronan’s blade hovered near Varen’s throat. “If this is another lie...”

“It’s not,” Varen said, meeting his gaze. “You can end this. But you need to trust me, even if I don’t deserve it.