Page 192 of Fractured Loyalties

"It is," I cut in. "But we’re not here for clean exits. We’re here for Jori." My gaze catches his in the dim. "And whatever Volker thought keeping you alive would get him."

Jori looks away, his mouth flattening. He hasn’t said much since we pulled him from that cell. I can read silence well enough to know it’s not gratitude holding his tongue.

The corridor narrows, walls pressing close enough that my shoulder brushes metal. I keep my focus forward, scanning formovement, for the faintest shift in shadow that would betray a guard. Nothing moves ahead—yet the air carries a current of anticipation, as if the walls themselves are tensed, waiting for the moment to spring.

We reach the final turn, the faint glow of the generator room spilling into the junction. The sound is heavier here, a mechanical pulse syncing with my heartbeat. I signal the others to halt, raising a hand.

"Elias?" Mara whispers.

I tilt my head toward the light. "He knows we’re here. So we go in like it’s ours."

We move in together, our boots striking the grated floor, the sound carrying out across the vast chamber. This generator room dwarfs the first—multiple tiers of industrial platforms hang over a chasm where massive turbines churn. Thick black cables snake across the ground, radiating heat, and the air smells of scorched wiring and heavy oil.

Three figures wait at the main platform. Two are armed, posture rigid and alert. The third stands between them, tall and composed, hands clasped behind his back. Even before I see his face, I know him.

Volker.

His gaze sweeps over us, deliberate in its pace. It pauses on Jori, then Mara, before settling on Kinley. There’s a flicker there—recognition. “We meet again, I told you we would. You were mine once,” Volker says, voice carrying without strain. “I taught you how to hold a weapon, how to read a man’s fear. And now you point that weapon at me.”

Kinley’s stance doesn’t falter. “Move away from the controls.”

Volker’s eyes shift to me, the faintest smile ghosting his mouth. “And you—Eidolon. You’ve walked a long road to stand here, yet you’ve learned nothing.”

“Then teach me,” I say, advancing a step, keeping Mara in my peripheral vision. “Tell me why you kept Jori alive, all the while hiding that fact from everyone, even his own brother, Vale, using him to your own advantage. Why send Vale, then Toma? Why coat your walls with my name?”

His smile deepens by a fraction. “Because you only run toward the things you can’t control.”

I don’t lower my weapon. “You built this maze to bring me here.”

Volker tilts his head. “Not just you. All of you. Every player in their place. Even Kinley, though I admit I expected him to be standing at my side when the moment came.”

Kinley’s jaw tightens. “That was never going to happen again.”

“Of course it was,” Volker says. “You were good at the work. Ruthless when you had to be. You just needed the right incentive.” His eyes flick to Mara. “And here she is.”

Mara stiffens, but I step half a pace in front of her.

“You’ve been pulling threads for months,” I say. “So tell me what you’re trying to weave.”

“A net,” Volker replies. “Strong enough to hold you until you understand that you and I are not enemies. You’ve been dismantling the same men I’ve been hunting. The difference is, I do it with reach. You do it with rage. Combine the two, and there’s nothing we couldn’t break.”

I let out a short laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “You’ve mistaken obsession for alignment.”

Volker takes a single step forward, the guards flanking him tensing. “No, Elias. I’ve just recognized the part of you still starving for a master worth serving.”

“Never. Volker, not in this lifetime.”

Volker’s eyes narrow slightly, though his smile doesn’t fade. “Refusal has always been your preferred performance. Yet here you stand, drawn to me again and again, like iron to a magnet you claim to despise.”

I keep my weapon centered on his chest. “This ends tonight. Whatever you think you’re building dies here.”

He studies me for a long moment, then glances at Jori. “And what of him? Will you kill him, too, when he becomes inconvenient? Or will you keep him, as I did, for the value he brings?”

Jori shifts uneasily. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

Volker’s smile sharpens. “Not yet.”

Kinley steps forward, voice cutting through. “Enough.”