The Price of Secrets

The warehouse air hung thick with the reek of mold and motor oil, the flicker of a lone overhead bulb casting jagged shadows across stacks of steel containers. Felix pressed himself against a crate, his pulse thundering in his ears. Beside him, Nicholas crouched low, his hacking device glowing faintly as it siphoned data from a nearby terminal. The silence was suffocating—until footsteps echoed, sharp and deliberate, from the far end of the aisle.

Tian Hao emerged like a specter, flanked by two enforcers whose faces were obscured by black masks. His tailored suit was immaculate, a contrast to the grime-streaked floor, and his voice cut through the stillness like a scalpel. “Tell Mei Ling the shipment will be ready by morning,” he said into his phone, pausing beside a container stamped with a crimson lotus. “We can’t afford another delay.”

Felix’s hand tightened on his pistol. Mei Ling. The Alchemist’s name sent a cold ripple through him. She’d been dead for weeks, her lab reduced to ash—but Tian Hao spoke as if she were still giving orders. Unless she wasn’t the real architect.

Nicholas nudged him, eyes wide behind his glasses. A holographic manifest hovered above his device: Shipment 9R-CPM. Destination: Oenrust Island. Contents: Neural Augmentation Units. The same tech they’d seen in Hitori’s lab.

“This isn’t a supply run,” Nicholas mouthed. “They’re arming someone.”

Before Felix could respond, their comms crackled. A distorted voice—Bintang—hissed, “You have company. Get out. Now.”

They moved in unison, slipping between containers toward the emergency exit. But Tian Hao’s laugh froze them mid-step. “Did you think we wouldn’t notice rats in our pantry?”

The alarm erupted, a deafening wail that drowned Nicholas’s curse. Red lights strobed as steel shutters slammed down over every exit. Tian Hao’s enforcers fanned out, rifles sweeping the aisles.

“Split up,” Felix growled. “Draw fire.”

Nicholas hesitated—a fatal mistake. A bullet ricocheted off the crate beside him, spraying splinters. Felix grabbed his arm, yanking him into a narrow gap between containers as gunfire chewed through the air.

“They’re herding us,” Nicholas panted, pulling up a warehouse schematic. “There’s a service tunnel beneath Bay 12. If we can reach it.”

Felix nodded, reloading his pistol. “Cover me.”

They darted into the open, zigzagging between stacks. Tian Hao’s voice boomed over the PA, mocking. “Felix Tan! The Dragons miss your loyalty. Surrender, and I’ll make your death quick.”

Loyalty. The word burned. Felix had once escorted Tian Hao’s “shipments” himself, never asking what lay inside the crates. Now he knew—and it sickened him.

They reached Bay 12, where a rusted grate hid the tunnel. Nicholas pried it open, fingers bleeding, as footsteps closed in. “Go!” Felix shoved him down, turning to face the enforcers.

But the gunfire never came.

Instead, a familiar figure stepped into the light: Rudy, their hacker, his face pale beneath his hoodie. “I’ve disabled the shutters. Go left—now!”

Relief flooded Felix—until he saw the glint in Rudy’s eyes. Too late, he registered the pistol in Rudy’s hand.

The first bullet struck Nicholas in the shoulder, spinning him into the tunnel. The second grazed Felix’s thigh as he lunged. “Why?!” he roared, tackling Rudy against a crate.

Rudy’s smile was brittle. “They have my sister. Cakra-Birawa… they’re everywhere.”

Tian Hao’s laughter echoed closer. Felix slammed Rudy’s head against the steel floor, then dragged Nicholas into the tunnel. Blood seeped through Nicholas’s jacket, his breaths shallow. “The drive…” he gasped, clutching the hacked data chip. “Rudy… lied about the encryption…”

Above them, the warehouse shook with explosions—Rudy’s final act of defiance, perhaps. The tunnel led to a drainage pipe, where rain and seawater sloshed against their ankles. Felix hauled Nicholas into the storm, the Nine Dragons’ shouts fading behind them.

Nicholas pressed the chip into Felix’s palm. “Bintang can’t know. Not until we’re sure who’s really on our side.”

As they vanished into Jakarta’s flooded underbelly, Felix replayed Rudy’s words. Cakra-Birawa’s everywhere. Even in the Black Sorrow Team.

The betrayal had only just begun.

Shadows in the Rearview

The flashbang detonated with a concussive crack, painting the corridor in searing white. Felix didn’t look back—he’d seen enough of Hitori’s labs to last a lifetime. Nicholas sprinted ahead, the duffel bag slamming against his hip like a pendulum of stolen secrets. Behind them, shouts erupted, half-drowned by the ringing silence left by the blast.

“Left!” Felix barked, shoving Nicholas toward a rusted emergency exit. The door groaned open, releasing them into a narrow alley choked with trash and the acrid tang of diesel. Rain fell in sheets, slicking the pavement with neon reflections from the city beyond.

A black SUV idled at the curb, its headlights off. Bintang sat behind the wheel, his face lit by the cherry glow of a clove cigarette. He didn’t smile.

“Move,” he said, voice flat as a blade.

Felix yanked the rear door open. Bullets sparked against brickwork as Nicholas lunged inside, the duffel clutched to his chest. Felix followed, slamming the door just as gunfire shattered the rear windshield. Glass shards rained over them like jagged hail.

Bintang floored the accelerator. The SUV fishtailed onto the main road, tires screeching. In the rearview, figures spilled from the warehouse—faceless enforcers in black tactical gear, their rifles gleaming.

“You led them right to us,” Bintang snapped, swerving around a stalled truck.

“You told us to come!” Nicholas shot back, clawing glass from his hair.

“I said quietly.”

Felix ignored them, eyes locked on the duffel. The hard drive inside felt heavier than it should, a cold weight pressing against his ribs. Clarissa died for this. Kiran died for this. The city blurred past—street vendors scattering, neon signs smearing into streaks of cyan and crimson.

Nicholas unzipped the bag, revealing the drive. “We’ll need Rudy. This encryption’s got Cakra-Birawa’s fingerprints all over it.”

Bintang’s jaw tightened. “Rudy’s compromised. Shen Ai’s been sniffing around his servers.”

“Then we find someone else,” Felix said.

“There is no one else.”

The SUV careened onto a highway overpass, the Nine Dragons’ towers receding behind them. Felix glanced back. No headlights followed. Not yet.

Bintang lit another cigarette, the ember casting shadows across his scarred knuckles. “You think this is just data? The Cycle isn’t a project—it’s a prophecy. One they’ve been refining for decades. Reset the world, control the collapse, profit from the ashes.” His eyes met Felix’s in the mirror. “Sound familiar?”

It did. Felix had enforced the Dragons’ orders for years—burning villages, silencing activists, all while telling himself it was just business. But this… this was scale. This was godhood.

Nicholas leaned forward, tapping the drive. “There’s something else. A subfolder labeled ‘Subject Zero.’ DNA profiles, neural maps—they’re not just simulating the future. They’re breeding it.”

A siren wailed in the distance. Bintang cursed, cutting across three lanes to exit toward the port. “Change of plan. We’re dropping this with Mayang.”

“The healer?” Felix frowned.

“She’s more than that. And she’s got… resources.”

The SUV plunged into a tunnel, its walls streaked with graffiti. For a moment, the world narrowed to the rumble of engines and the glow of dashboard lights. Then Nicholas stiffened.

“Bintang. The drive—it’s hot.”

Felix followed his gaze. A tiny LED blinked red on the drive’s casing. Tracking. Or worse.

Bintang didn’t hesitate. He rolled down his window and snatched the driver's seat. “Hold the wheel.”

“Are you insane—?”

But Bintang was already half-out the window, rain lashing his face. With a grunt, he hurled the drive into the dark. It vanished over the tunnel’s edge, into the churning bay below.

Nicholas gaped. “That was our only proof!”

Bintang slid back into his seat, soaked and grim. “Proof’s for martyrs. We need survivors.”

As they emerged from the tunnel, the first explosion lit the skyline—a fireball erupting near the docks. The drive’s final message.

Felix stared at the flames. “They’ll come for us harder now.”

Bintang smirked, a flicker of his old, dangerous self. “Let them. We’ve got their god in a box.”

The SUV vanished into the labyrinth of Jakarta’s slums, leaving the Dragons—and their Cycle—choking on smoke.