Page 39 of Fractured Loyalties (Tainted Souls #2)

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."

Elias touches the console, and the screen flashes immediately, illuminating his face in a sharp, ghostly glow. Data cascades rapidly—names, dates, encrypted fragments spilling into view too fast to comprehend fully.

Elias’s fingers dance expertly, sifting swiftly through layers of information until something makes him freeze.

“What is it?” I move closer, peering over his shoulder.

Elias is silent for a moment, the muscles in his jaw tight. “It’s everything. Volker's surveillance—on me, my network, my past. He's tracked every connection I've ever made.”

I scan the screen, recognition tightening my chest. Photos of Elias, conversations recorded, missions documented.

A meticulous catalog of Elias's life. Anger coils hotly within me, fury at how thoroughly Volker has invaded Elias’s existence.

But beneath the rage is a chilling fear—the realization that Elias was never truly free from his past.

Kinley steps closer, his gaze fixed on a particular section. “He’s not just gathering information. Look here—these are compliance codes.”

Elias stiffens. “He planned on rewriting us, forcing loyalty through psychological conditioning. Submission loops.”

The words send ice trickling down my spine. “Then why destroy everything? Why let us see it?”

“To make a point,” Elias growls softly, eyes darkening. “He’s telling us we’re not free, even now.”

Kinley’s voice is grim. “Or that he can rebuild this whenever he wants.”

The console flashes again, this time highlighting a single file prominently in the center. Elias hesitates for a heartbeat, then opens it.

It’s a video feed, grainy but unmistakable. A figure in shadow, moving toward the camera. I lean in closer, my breath catching painfully when the figure emerges clearly into view.

"Jori," Kinley says before I can ask questions.

Elias’s sharp intake of breath echoes my shock. He's truly alive.

The video loops, a haunting replay.

"Volker didn’t just lie," Elias murmurs. "He turned Jori into his weapon."

The room falls quiet, filled only with the hum of machinery, the weight of revelation settling heavy over us all.

We’re no longer fighting ghosts.

We’re facing something much darker—the corrupted truths of the people Elias once trusted most.

Elias stands frozen, staring at the looping footage of Jori. I feel the tension radiating from him, see the storm in his eyes—shock, disbelief, betrayal. My hand finds his arm gently, offering silent support.

"What does this mean for us?" I whisper, breaking the heavy silence.

Elias’s jaw clenches. "It means Volker has his ultimate leverage against me."

Kinley steps closer, studying Elias. "Volker isn't just collecting intel; he's destroying your foundation piece by piece. Jori being alive is his ace."

"How long have you known?" Elias's voice is low, dangerous, barely controlled. "Exactly how long have you known Jori was alive?"

Kinley meets Elias’s gaze steadily, not flinching from the accusation. "Long enough. I suspected Volker was holding Jori as his ace, but I never had proof—until now."

"Then why help us?" Elias demands sharply.

Kinley's expression hardens. "Because Volker doesn’t leave loose ends. I was marked next. Aligning with you isn't charity—it's survival."

Elias considers him silently, then nods, accepting this uneasy alliance. He returns to the console, rapidly sifting through data, unearthing more hidden truths. Each revelation adds weight to the dread pooling within me.

Suddenly, Elias pauses again. "Mara," he whispers gravely, gesturing at the screen. I step closer, my breath hitching sharply at the images I see.

Surveillance photos of me. At the clinic, at my apartment—private moments laid bare, my life turned inside out.

"He’s targeted you since you became part of my life," Elias growls softly. "You're his insurance."

I shudder, nausea rising sharply. "But why me?"

Elias’s eyes darken, fierce determination mingled with regret. "Because he knows I'll do anything to protect you."

Kinley interrupts urgently. "We have to move—now. Volker's purge isn't limited to data."

Elias swiftly inserts a small drive, copying vital intel. My pulse races as tension thickens, the drive’s progress agonizingly slow.

Finally, it finishes. Elias pockets it, resolve firm in his gaze. "Let's go."

Despite the fear gnawing at my nerves, we have no choice but to move forward, deeper into the shadows and truths we've uncovered.

We move swiftly, urgency pressing us forward through the labyrinthine tunnels.

Elias leads, his presence a pillar of grim determination, cutting a clear path.

My heart beat drums relentlessly in my chest, matching the hurried rhythm of our footsteps echoing down the cold, narrow corridors.

Every shadow now feels malevolent, every sound a potential ambush.

Kinley keeps pace, close behind me, his eyes darting in alert vigilance. Despite our uneasy alliance, his presence adds a layer of security. Yet, the question lingers—can he truly be trusted, or is he merely another thread woven into Volker’s intricate web?