30. Mirrors and Masquerades

They had walked through fire, but now the path led them back to the city.

Elara stood at the ridge overlooking Virelith—once a Mairee stronghold, now a city of wary freedom. Morning sun glinted off the glass spires, and smoke trails from recent battles still lingered like ghosts.

"Smells like victory and ash," Damien said, stepping beside her.

She half-smiled. "Mostly ash."

Nova, ever efficient, came through the comms. "We have contact inside. Former Mairee technocrat offering intel. Says he's got a plan to sabotage what's left of their data hubs."

"Name?" Elara asked.

"Galen Rhyne. Claims he used to run their psychological conditioning program."

Damien made a face. "Ah, great. One of those geniuses."

Inside the repurposed opera house in Virelith, they met Galen.

He wore a tweed coat far too dramatic for the occasion, his hair slicked back like a retired villain in search of applause. He greeted them with a bow.