Page 163 of Fractured Loyalties

Then all hell begins to break loose.

Chapter 27 – Mara - Dark Revelations

The room is plunged into complete darkness the moment Elias and I press confirm. For a heartbeat, silence rules, cold and oppressive. Then chaos erupts—an alarm blares, shrill and relentless, echoing off metal walls, piercing my skull. The floor beneath shudders violently as if struck from beneath, almost throwing me off balance. I grasp Elias’s arm instinctively, fingers clutching tight as my pulse spikes painfully in my veins.

Kinley's voice rises sharply through the noise, shouting a warning I can't decipher clearly. Emergency lights burst to life, bathing everything in a harsh, blood-red glow. Shadows dance, chaotic and frantic, making it hard to tell friend from foe.

"Stay close," Elias commands sharply, already moving toward an exit that's barely visible through the shifting, frantic lights.

The glass encasements around us tremble violently, cracking ominously, releasing thin streams of vapor. My eyes widen as the realization hits—they’re being purged, destroyed along with everything they hold. Elias moves quickly, sure-footed, his grasp firm on my wrist. I follow, heart pounding, as Kinley stays close behind us, his breathing harsh but controlled.

The exit opens into another corridor—narrow, claustrophobic, pulsing with that same relentless rhythm from before. Elias doesn't pause, leading us swiftly through the twisting passages, each step guided by grim certainty. Kinley matches our pace, silent now, as if he's saving every breath for whatever lies ahead.

Minutes blur together, tunnels blending into an endless stretch of darkness and emergency red glow, disorientation pulling at the edges of my mind. My lungs ache, burning from exertion and fear.

At last, the corridor slopes gently downward, air growing colder, heavier. I brush my fingers along the wall; the surface vibrates faintly, the same pulse resonating beneath my feet. We're descending further, deeper into the very bones of this structure, into places where even ghosts might fear to wander.

"How much deeper?" I ask finally, voice steady despite the tremor deep inside.

Elias glances back, just enough for me to see the tight line of his jaw, eyes sharper than I've ever seen. "As deep as it takes."

It’s not reassuring, and he doesn’t pretend otherwise. Elias’s honesty is brutal, a knife-edge between comforting and cutting. But that’s why I trust him—he doesn't hide ugly truths behind comforting lies.

We emerge into an open chamber, the sudden spaciousness almost shocking after the claustrophobic descent. The room is circular, the ceiling curving upward like the dome of an ancient sanctuary. But there’s no holiness here, no peace—only stark, utilitarian precision.

Kinley moves forward first, drawn toward the center. A low, cylindrical pedestal rises from the floor, a console blinking steadily with pale green light.

"Don’t," Elias warns, voice sharp, stopping Kinley before his hand touches the console. "Everything down here is bait."

Kinley pauses, hand suspended. "Or maybe it’s the answer we came for."

"Answers from Volker come at a cost you won't want to pay," Elias counters coldly.

Kinley straightens, turning slowly to face him. "And your answers haven’t?"

The silence between them fills the chamber, charged with memories neither man will openly voice. My gaze shifts between them, tension coiling tighter with each unspoken word. Finally, Kinley lowers his hand and steps back.

Elias approaches the console cautiously, eyes scanning carefully. He circles it once, examining every angle, every surface. The seconds stretch, my heartbeat ticking with each one.

"This isn’t just a vault," Elias murmurs finally, almost to himself. "It’s a record."

"Of what?" I ask, stepping closer despite my unease.

Elias’s eyes meet mine, shadowed with a rare uncertainty. "Every dark truth Volker’s collected. Every soul he's touched."

Kinley crosses his arms, expression wary. "Then why lead us here?"

Elias doesn’t immediately answer, his gaze returning to the blinking console. When he speaks, his voice is a low growl, roughened by something that feels suspiciously like fear. "Because he knew I'd open it."

The realization sinks heavily into my bones. Volker isn't just observing—he's orchestrating, positioning us exactly where he wants.

The console beeps softly, almost mockingly. A gentle reminder that choices, even now, are illusions Volker graciously permits.

Elias glances back at me, eyes softer now, carrying an unspoken question.

I nod, steadying my breath.

"Then let’s see what he left for us."