Betrayer's Trail

The air was thick with dust and the stench of blood, the echoes of the battle still reverberating through the sanctuary. The fires from the burning mutates cast long, flickering shadows across the stone walls. The survivors were still catching their breath, but the true battle was far from over.

Aspas stood amidst the fallen creatures, his chest rising and falling steadily. His sharp gaze scanned the room, taking in the devastation, the broken barricades, and the exhaustion in the eyes of those who had fought. But amidst the chaos, something more sinister lurked—treachery.

A voice cut through the uneasy silence. "I saw someone. I saw a foot—someone heading to the roof before the mutates broke through. I thought nothing of it at the time. I didn't know they were making way for those monsters."

Aspas's head snapped toward the speaker—a young man, one of the sentries, his face pale with realization. Murmurs spread among the survivors, eyes darting around in suspicion.

"You saw their foot? Can you describe it?" Joren asked, stepping forward, his voice tense.

The sentry hesitated before nodding. "Yes. It was a strong, lean foot, not too large, but not small either. The person was quick, scaling the roof with ease. I didn't think much of it then. But now..." His voice trailed off, regret and fear lacing his words.

Aspas exchanged a glance with Joren. It wasn't much to go on, but it was a lead.

"We check the scene," Aspas ordered. "Now."

The group moved swiftly, retracing the traitor's steps. When they reached the base of the wall, they found the imprint left behind—a faint but distinct shape of a foot pressed into the dust. It was proof that someone had climbed up, but it raised a daunting question.

"How do we identify the actual person?" Alia voiced the thought plaguing them all. "There could be many with the same foot size and shape. But this... this is a clue."

Aspas's gaze darkened. "Then we follow it. The search begins now."

A thick tension settled over the group as they scanned the surrounding area for any additional evidence. The sanctuary had many capable fighters, but not many possessed the agility required to scale the wall with such ease. That narrowed the list, but it was still not enough.

Alia's heart pounded as she stood beside Caleb and Finn. Fear still lingered in her chest, but after what she had witnessed—her sons fighting like seasoned warriors—her fear was no longer just for them. It was for what their actions meant.

They were no longer just children.

They were heroes.

The whispers had already begun. Eyes that once doubted them now carried a mixture of awe and guilt. Even if the person who had seen them sneaking out to train by the fence came forward, it wouldn't matter now. They had proven themselves. They weren't traitors.

And yet, doubt still gnawed at her. Would they ever be truly accepted? Would the fear of what they were linger in the hearts of those they had saved?

Her hands clenched into fists. No matter what, she would stand by them.

Aspas crouched near the footprints, tracing the impression with his fingers. "The depth suggests someone light but strong. An experienced climber. This wasn't random. This was planned."

Joren exhaled sharply. "So we have a trained infiltrator among us. That means they've been hiding in plain sight."

Aspas nodded grimly. "And they're still here."

A cold realization dawned upon the group. The traitor hadn't fled. They were still inside the sanctuary, watching, waiting. The weight of betrayal settled over them like a thick fog.

The search intensified. They began questioning people, checking boots, examining any dirt or scratches that might indicate recent climbing. Fear spread among the refugees as they realized the enemy was one of them.

Then, a voice called out. "Over here!"

Aspas and Joren rushed toward the source. A sentry pointed to a torn piece of fabric caught on a jagged edge near the roof opening. The cloth was dark, blending with the night, but unmistakably human-made.

Aspas took the piece in his hands, his expression unreadable. "We're close. Whoever did this made a mistake."

As the search continued, a grim realization settled over the group. Among the fallen were six of their own, their bodies lying still amidst the wreckage. Some were warriors, others mere civilians caught in the chaos. Many more were wounded, receiving what little treatment could be provided. But one death stood out among them all.

An old man had made the ultimate sacrifice. In his final moments, he had thrown himself between a mutate and a mother clutching her newborn. He had fought with nothing but his bare hands, knowing he would not survive. His sacrifice had saved them, but at a terrible cost. The mother wept over his still form, clutching her baby tightly, whispering prayers of gratitude and sorrow.

Alia swallowed hard as she gazed at the fallen hero. Her sons had fought with incredible skill, but this man had fought with heart, with selflessness that defined true bravery. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. The battle had taken so much from them, yet it had also revealed who they truly were.

Aspas's gaze swept the room, lingering briefly on Alia and her children. The weight of everything they had endured settled heavily on him. He turned his attention back to the torn fabric, his jaw tightening.

The traitor was still among them—smiling, laughing, and sharing meals as if nothing had happened. But soon, they would be found.

Aspas had made a promise: when the traitor was uncovered, there would be no mercy.

Everyone knew what that meant. Aspas never spoke in vain. He would do whatever it took to protect his people, even if it meant sacrificing himself.

Now, the search had begun. New clues had surfaced, leading them closer to the one who had caused them so much pain.

But how soon would the traitor be found? And when they were, what fate awaited them?