The sun was still low in the sky when Khisa dipped his reed pen in ink and began to write.
His chamber was silent, save for the chirping of birds beyond the open balcony. Three guards stood outside the door, still as statues. But within the room, everything moved—thoughts, strategy, purpose.
He wrote in careful strokes, his handwriting swift but steady.
To Zuberi, Shadow Guard
Your decision was bold. And correct.
Letting the spy go was a gamble, but it served two purposes: first, it exposed a breach we now know how to watch for. Second, it sent a message. Nuri is not some village they can walk into and destroy. We are order. We are unity. We are sharp steel.
The man you let go—Mbuta—will be followed for a short while longer. Then, the pursuit will pass to the squad in Kongo.
