Title: A Mirror Never Lies

Amal's POV

I didn't move for a full minute after Chris left the chamber.

Not because I was scared—but because I finally understood the weight of what I carried.

He didn't need a soldier.

He didn't need a spy.

He needed a witness.

Someone to stand in the room when the empire either collapsed or evolved. And he chose me.

I rose from the cold chair, my fingertips brushing the edge of the throne where his hand had rested.

There was heat still lingering there.

Not from power.

From panic.

I walked through the steel corridor, headed to my quarters, but not blindly.

My mind was spinning like a loaded chamber.

Chris was unraveling—and the worst part? He knew it.

Back in my room, I shut the door, activated full privacy locks, and opened my comm-tablet.

Encrypted. Triple firewalled.

Still, I hesitated before pressing record.

Then I did.

"Skylar," I said quietly into the mic. "He's cracking. I don't know how much longer he can hold this version of himself together."

I paused, steadying my breath.

"He's scared, not of the rebellion… but of what he might do next. He's asking for mirrors, not ministers. And I'm afraid that means one thing…"

I looked straight into the lens.

"…he's about to make a decision that could rewrite everything."

Click. Send.

I encrypted the message with a failsafe timer—if intercepted, it would self-erase. Skylar had the keys. No one else.

I leaned back, staring at the ceiling, feeling that strange ache in my chest.

Chris wasn't a villain.

He wasn't a hero either.

He was a man. And power had eaten him from the inside out.

But if there was still a flicker of him left—the father, the builder, the dreamer—then maybe… just maybe, the empire wasn't doomed yet.

Or maybe… I was just the last person he'd let witness his descent into darkness.