Chapter 9: Captured Conviction

The cell was a masterpiece of despair. Walls that shimmered with a faint metallic sheen reflected Alitha's haggard face at her in fragments, distorted and fractured like her thoughts. The single light above her was unrelenting, flickering irregularly to disorient her sense of time. The Upbringers' prison complex was alive with malice—a perfect predator designed to strip the soul bare.

Alitha sat in the center of the room, her wrists bound with energy cuffs that buzzed faintly against her skin. Her head throbbed, not from physical blows, but from the constant hum of the psychological warfare pulsing through the room's very design.

A voice filled the air, smooth and calculated, dripping with mockery. It came from no discernible source, echoing everywhere at once.

Voice: "Alitha. Loyal Warden. Defender of the Upbringers' vision. Do you remember those days? Do you remember the pride you felt wearing that uniform? You were a hero. And now look at you. Reduced to this."

She closed her eyes, trying to block it out, but the voice wormed in, seeding doubt and guilt in places she thought was fortified.

Voice: "Do you think they care about you, the rebels? Do you think they'd risk their lives to save you? Marten, Verena, Retsuki... They're probably relieved you're gone. You were a liability, weren't you? A relic of the enemy. A traitor to both sides."

The words clawed at her mind, unearthing old fears. She remembered the faces of those she'd once called comrades—the Wardens she had left behind when she joined Serkiuln. She had betrayed them, hadn't she? They had trusted her and fought beside her. And now she was betraying the people she had sworn to protect for the rebels. Was there a part of her that still believed in the Upbringers' order, their purpose?

She bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, the sharp pain grounding her. No. She had chosen Serkiuln. She had chosen resistance. But the voice knew her doubts, her hidden insecurities, and it wielded them precisely.

The walls shifted, the shimmering surface rippling as images began to form. Her past came alive around her: the crisp black and silver uniform of the Wardens, the weight of the rifle in her hands, and the roar of the crowds as the Upbringers paraded their enforcers through the streets. She saw herself standing at attention, young and eager, proud of her place in their grand machine.

Then, the scene changed. Blood on her hands. A child crying. A family was dragged from their home. She had stood there, impassive, following orders. The voice returned, softer now, almost pitying.

Voice: "You were efficient. You were obedient. You were perfect. And now you pretend to be something else. A rebel. A savior. But you can't save them, Alitha. You never could."

The images twisted again, this time to Serkiuln's hideout. She saw Marten's accusing glare, Verena's hesitation, and Retsuki's unreadable expression. Were they all waiting for her to fail? Were they already replacing her in their plans?

The voice coiled around her like a serpent.

Voice: "You're not one of them. You never were. You're an outsider. A spy. And spies are expendable."

She screamed a raw, guttural sound that shattered the silence. Her voice echoed back at her, drowning out the whispers of doubt. She slammed her fists against the floor, the cuffs burning into her wrists, but she didn't care. The pain was real, tangible. It anchored her.

Alitha: "Shut up."

Her voice was hoarse, but it was hers. Her body trembled with the effort of speaking, defying the insidious grip of the Upbringers' machines.

Alitha: "I chose to leave. I chose to fight. You don't get to rewrite that. You don't get to take it away."

The walls flickered as if her defiance unsettled the prison itself. The voice faltered for the first time, its confidence wavering.

Voice: "Your resolve is admirable. But it won't save you."

Alitha: (Through gritted teeth) "It doesn't have to. They'll save me."

Her thoughts turned to Retsuki. His glowing form, his unwavering determination, his strange, electric warmth. And Marten, with his tactical mind and unyielding sense of justice. Verena, her creativity and fire. They were flawed, broken people, just like her. But they were hers. And she was theirs.

Meanwhile, back at the library ruins, Retsuki sat in silence as Marten paced again, his frustration bubbling over.

Marten: "We can't do this. Not now. A prison break? In Yorktun? Do you have any idea what that means? We'll all die before we even get close."

Verena: "And what's your plan? Leave her there? Let the Upbringers do whatever the hell they want to her?"

Marten: "I'm saying we need to think. Strategize. If we go in blind, we're as good as dead."

Retsuki finally stood, his glow faint but steady. His voice was calm, but it carried a weight that silenced them.

Retsuki: "She's not staying there. I don't care what it takes. I'll burn that place to the ground if I have to."

Marten: "This isn't about you, Retsuki. This is about all of us. About the rebellion. If you let your emotions get in the way—"

Retsuki: (Interrupting, his voice cold) "It's always been about them. The people. The ones who sacrifice everything while we hide, plan, and hope for a miracle. Alitha is one of them. And I'm not leaving her."

Verena stepped forward, her voice softer but no less committed.

Verena: "Then we do this together. We plan, we strike, and we make it count."

Marten sighed, rubbing his temples. He didn't agree, but he wouldn't abandon them either. He nodded reluctantly.

Back in her cell, Alitha sat straighter. Her head was still pounding, her body weak, but her mind was clear. She wasn't broken. Not yet. Not ever. She clung to the image of her team, to the belief that they would come for her. And even if they didn't, she would find a way to fight.

The voice returned, quieter now, less confident.

Voice: "They won't come for you, Alitha. No one ever does."

She smiled a grim, defiant smile.

Alitha: "You don't know them. And you don't know me."

The light above flickered again, but it seemed weaker, less oppressive this time. Alitha leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. She would survive this. She had to.

Meanwhile, The silence in the crumbling library was suffocating. Dust hung in the air like unspoken accusations, catching faint rays of light from a shattered skylight above. Marten stood with his arms crossed, his face a mask of frustration, while Verena paced the room, her movements sharp and erratic. Retsuki sat on the ground, his glowing form dimmed, the weight of Alitha's absence pressing heavily on him. The room seemed colder without her—a void no one wanted to acknowledge but couldn't ignore.

Retsuki: (Calm but resolute) "We're going after her."

Marten exploded, his composure cracking as he slammed his fist onto the table, scattering brittle papers and debris.

Marten: "You don't get just to decide that! Do you even understand what you're asking us to do? The prison she's in isn't just some locked building—it's a fortress: layered security, psychic dampeners, and automated patrols. We walk in there, and we're dead. All of us. Including Alitha!"

Verena: (Stopping mid-pace, her voice trembling angrily) "He's right, Retsuki. This isn't some half-cocked raid on a supply depot. This is suicide. Do you think charging in there is going to save her? All it'll do is get her killed faster when they realize we're coming."

Retsuki didn't move. His eyes, faintly glowing, locked on Marten, then Verena. His voice was steady, but his glow pulsed faintly with each word.

Retsuki: "If we don't go after her, she's already dead. Do you think the Upbringers will leave her alive after what she knows? After what she's done?"

Marten leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near-growl.

Marten: "And you think you're the one to save her? You don't even understand what it means to lose someone. You've never lost anything! You're just—"

He stopped, clenching his jaw as the words hung in the air. Retsuki's glow dimmed further, flickering like a dying bulb. Verena stepped closer, her expression twisting between fury and sorrow.

Verena: (Shouting) "You don't even know what you are, do you? You sit there with his face and voice—like that's enough to make you one of us. But you're not him, Retsuki! You're not Paragus! You're just a ghost he left behind. A shadow. And now you think you can decide for us, for her?"

Retsuki flinched as if struck. Verena's words hit like lightning, and for a moment, he said nothing. Marten looked away, refusing to meet Retsuki's gaze. Verena wasn't done; her voice broke, rising into something raw and desperate.

Verena: "You bear a face you stole! Paragus is gone, Retsuki. He's gone! And no matter how much we want him back, no matter how much we want to believe in you, you're not him. You're not even real!"

The room fell silent, the echo of her words bouncing off the cracked walls. Retsuki stood slowly, his glow steady but faint, like embers refusing to die. His voice was low and calm when he spoke, but there was a sadness that none of them had ever heard before.

Retsuki: "You're right."

Verena froze, her chest heaving, anger giving way to confusion. Marten's eyes darted to Retsuki, searching for some reaction, some burst of emotion—but there was none.

Retsuki: (Quietly) "I'm not him. I'm not even like you. I wasn't born; I was made. A tool. A weapon. A memory of someone you all loved. And maybe I'm not real. Maybe I don't even deserve to stand here with you. But Alitha? She does. And I'll burn this city to ash before I let her die alone in that place."

His glow flared briefly, an intense burst of light that cast shadows across the room. For a moment, it was like he was more than just energy—a raw and unyielding force. But then it faded again, leaving only the faint hum of his presence.

Retsuki: "You can hate me. You can say I don't belong. But don't use that as an excuse to leave her behind. If you do... then you're no better than the Upbringers."

Marten stepped forward, his face inches from Retsuki's, his voice low and venomous.

Marten: "Don't you dare lecture me about loyalty. Do you think this is about hate? About not believing in you? This is about survival. We can't afford to lose anyone else! Not for a doomed rescue mission. Not for your guilt."

Verena: (Softly, almost to herself) "We've already lost so much."

Her voice broke, and she turned away, biting her lip to avoid sobbing. Retsuki reached out to her, but she stepped back, shaking her head. The distance between them was palpable.

Retsuki looked at both of them, his glow flickering uncertainly. For the first time, he felt truly alone—an intruder in their grief, a reminder of what they had lost. He clenched his fists, the energy crackling faintly at his fingertips.

Retsuki: "I'll go alone if I have to. But I'm going."

Marten turned away, his shoulders tense, his voice a whisper.

Marten: "Do what you want. Just don't expect us to follow you to your death."

Verena didn't say anything. She stared at the floor, her face pale and tear-streaked. Retsuki stood there for a moment longer, then turned and walked toward the broken doorway, his footsteps heavy despite the lack of sound.

As the door closed behind him, Verena sank to the ground, her hands trembling. Marten sat beside her, his expression unreadable. The library felt colder now, emptier. Retsuki's absence left a void that neither of them wanted to acknowledge.

Verena: (Whispering) "What if he's right?"

Marten: (Sternly) "He's not."

Verena: (Looking up at him, tears in her eyes) "But what if he is?"

Marten didn't answer. The silence that followed was deafening.