Buried Truths

"Grandpa! Just open the door! What the hell just happened!? What is 'Caught'!?" Cedrik shouted, slamming against the locked lab door, panic growing in his voice.

There was no time for answers. The tension pressed in, thick and urgent, as if the very air around them was charged and ready to snap.

Ar stood at the window, completely still. His spine was taut. His gaze was fixed on the dark street beyond, watching something only he could sense. His arms hung rigid at his sides and every muscle in his body was coiled tight, like a spring ready to release.

Enor was walking toward Cedrik, her steps quick but measured. The room was plunged into darkness because Ar had cut the power moments ago, and shadows swallowed the space. Silence wrapped around them sharply and unnaturally.

"Ar says," she said, her voice cracking, "Pack. Fast."

Cedrik froze for a heartbeat, then turned and walked toward him. "Is it the Academy?"

Ar did not look away. "Pretty much. Yes."

Pale and wordless, Cedrik sprinted up the stairs. Drawers crashed open. Clothes and gear hit the floor. Footsteps pounded above like a countdown.

Enor could not move after that. Her limbs refused to obey her. Her lungs tightened painfully. They were supposed to have more time, just a little more, That's what she had let herself believe. How foolish !

The basement door burst open.

Grandpa appeared, arms full of papers and bundled devices. His usual calm was gone, replaced by urgency.

"They found me," he said bluntly. "No time. We leave now."

Enor's throat tightened painfully. "Found you?"

"The Morse message," Grandpa said, moving quickly. "The word 'Caught.' One of ours is taken. We are next."

Ar's voice cut in, low and steady. "So you did have something going on."

"No talking," Grandpa muttered, tapping a hidden keypad. A hiss followed. The floor groaned and a hatch opened.

Cedrik slammed down the stairs, bags over his shoulder, chest heaving.

"What-? YOU HAVE A TUNNEL !?"

"This place was never safe," Grandpa said without looking up.

Cedrik froze, staring at the open hatch as if the ground itself had betrayed him. "You never told me."

"Take this." Grandpa thrust a heavy bundle into Cedrik's hands.

Enor stepped forward, her voice a little hesitant. "What do I do?"

Grandpa met her eyes for a moment, then pulled a small dark disk from his coat. It bore no symbols, no instructions, just a faint pulse like a slow heartbeat.

He pressed it gently into her hand.

"It scrambles your signal," he said plainly. "If your core spikes or they scan, you will get time. It is not perfect, but it helps."

Her fingers curled around it, her throat tightened.

And before she could speak, Grandpa added firmly, "This is not because of you."

"But-"

"No." He cut her off gently.

Their eyes held briefly, not soft, but solid.

Without another word, he dropped into the tunnel.

Cedrik followed silently.

Enor glanced once at the dark room.

Ar caught her eye, then moved down after them.

The hatch sealed shut.

They moved in single file. Grandpa led fast and focused. Cedrik followed, breathing heavy. Enor came next. Ar closed the rear, his footsteps unnervingly quiet.

Enor felt off balance, both mentally and physically. Her body ached, her thoughts scattered. They had gone from a moment of uneasy calm to running in seconds. Her mind could not keep up.

Cedrik had not spoken since entering the tunnel. His movements were stiff and his shoulders were tight with tension. It was as if one wrong word could snap him.

Enor glanced back. Ar walked steadily, expression unreadable. When their eyes met, he tilted his head in a silent question. She turned away, unable to answer.

She envied him. That quiet steadiness. That ability to hold everything in. Maybe she needed to be more like that.

They walked on.

The air was cold and dry. Dust clung to every surface. Occasionally, dirt crumbled from the ceiling. Every sound felt painfully loud.

Then Cedrik broke the silence.

"This does not make sense."

Grandpa did not slow his pace. "It will."

"No, it will not," Cedrik snapped, frustration clear in his voice. "Not unless someone starts explaining. Why the hell is there a tunnel under our house?"

"I built it," Grandpa said. "A long time ago. Hidden for emergencies."

Cedrik let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Emergencies? This is not a panic room. It is a war tunnel. Reinforced walls. Escape routes. Emergency packs. You were not preparing for a break-in. You were preparing for a siege."

"Because a siege was always possible," Grandpa said, his tone unreadable.

"So you knew. You knew we were not safe. That they might come."

"Yes."

Enor slowed her pace. Tension wrapped around her ribs like a rope. Cedrik's voice was rising and his body language was screaming. Fists clenched. Shoulders stiff. A storm barely contained.

"How long have you been planning this?"

"Years," Grandpa answered without flinching.

Cedrik scoffed. "Unbelievable. Years. You watched me grow up over this thing and never said a word. Do you even hear how insane that is?"

Deep silence followed.

"Are you going to keep giving me one-word answers?" Cedrik barked. "Or are you finally going to tell me the truth?"

"I am part of a network," Grandpa said, still walking. "We investigate the Academy. Their experiments. Their labs. We protect the people they try to erase."

"You mean rebels," Cedrik said bitterly. "You make it sound noble but you are talking about espionage. Underground groups. Lies. Secret alliances. Surveillance. You mean lie to your own grandson while you dig tunnels under his bedroom!"

Grandpa finally stopped and slowly turned. His flashlight cast sharp shadows across the dirt walls.

"Cedrik."

"No," Cedrik snapped. "Do not say my name like it is supposed to calm me down. You want calm? Give me answers. Did my parents know?"

Grandpa hesitated.

"Did they?" Cedrik repeated, voice shaking.

"They were part of it," Grandpa admitted.

Cedrik froze.

Enor felt her stomach twist.

"They were scientists at the academy, just like I was," Grandpa's voice lowered. "But they defected. Joined the network. Helped extract Marked children. Deleted files. Faked deaths. Risked everything."

Cedrik stared. "You said they died in an accident," he whispered.

"They were executed," Grandpa said. "For betrayal. For helping the Marked."

The tunnel fell silent.

Cedrik staggered back a step, as if the word itself had shoved him.

Enor's breath caught. She said nothing. Execution. Yes. She does know. That is what happens. That is why no one helps. That is why people look away. Because it is their lives on the line. Because it always ends like this.

She kept her eyes on the dirt beneath her shoes.

Cedrik's voice came again, low and unsteady. "How. How did they find out? Was it you? Did you bring them in? Did you get them killed?"

"No," Grandpa said firmly. "They were caught during an extraction. They went in knowing the risks."

Cedrik clenched his jaw. "So they chose this. Chose a cause over their own kid."

"They did not abandon you," Grandpa said. "They died trying to make a better world. For you. For all of us."

"But I did not get that world, did I?" Cedrik's voice cracked. "I got silence. Lies. A childhood built on rot."

He dragged a hand through his hair, pacing a small angry circle. "All these years. You let me think it was some stupid accident. A fire. A gas leak. You told me they did not suffer. And all this time, they were…" He stopped, hands shaking. "Saints."

"I was trying to protect you."

Cedrik turned sharply. "Protect me?" He laughed bitterly. "That is why you took my freedom? Locked me inside that house? Tracked my movements? Kept me caged like some fragile thing you could not bear to lose?"

"Ced-"

"No! Do not 'Ced' me!" Cedrik shouted. "I thought it was grief. That you were just overbearing. But it was not! It was control. You locked me out of the world and yet called it love."

Enor flinched at the harshness in his voice. She did not look up.

"I think you care more about this shady network than you ever cared about me," Cedrik said, ragged breath. "You put me in a prison and gave up. Gods, Grandpa! You are old! Why all this? Why could you not just... Live?"

The tunnel held its breath.

Then Grandpa looked at him. Really looked. The flashlight caught the deep lines in his face and the wear carved into his posture.

"You do not know how hard it is for me," he said softly. "Every day."

There was no anger in the words. Just exhaustion.

Cedrik's shoulders rose and fell in silence.

"I could not drag you into this," Grandpa added. "Not after what happened to them."

"But I am already in it," Cedrik muttered, low. "You dragged me in anyway. And I am the only one who did not know."

"You were not the only one," Ar said quietly.

Cedrik turned slightly, caught off guard.

Ar's eyes stayed forward, voice calm. "I didn't know either. About any of this."

"You did not?" Cedrik asked, confused.

Ar shook his head. "No. I think. I did not pay enough attention. Even though I sensed something was off. Sorry."

Quiet but real.

Something in Cedrik's face cracked just slightly.

"I never wanted this life for you," Grandpa repeated.

"Then why did you build it right under my feet?" Cedrik's voice hollow.

The words echoed in the tunnel.

Enor looked down. Secrets buried under secrets. She had not known Cedrik's parents were involved. Had not known any of this. It made her feel like she did not belong. Like she had stumbled into grief not hers to bear.

"We need to keep moving," Grandpa said after a long pause.

Cedrik did not answer.

After a beat, he walked.

The silence that followed was not calm. It was heavy with grief, confusion, betrayal, fear. Wrapped around them like weighted chains. The air thickened. The tunnel narrowed.

They walked deeper into the dark. Cold creeping around them.

Enor kept watching Cedrik's back, trying to find words, but none came. Not yet.

He looked like he was holding himself together by a thread, so she said nothing, and neither did Ar.

Eventually, the tunnel veered sharply. The flashlight flickered. Grandpa tapped it.

Then finally, a door.

Old. Rusted. Set into stone. The end.

Grandpa approached slowly, taking a keyring from his coat.

Cedrik stood behind him, jaw tight. Enor behind Cedrik. Ar behind her. Still silent. Still calm.

Grandpa inserted the key.

"Wait!" Ar's voice, sharp.

Too late.

The door opened.

Light spilled in.

Voices.

"Dr. Orven, you are under arrest. Hands on your head or we will shoot."