Ryker spent the remaining hours moving with a deceptive calm. He kept trying to figure out a safe way out of this.He couldn't risk gathering proof; securing a single document or medical observation from the dungeon would instantly trigger Thax's alarm. Instead, he manufactured a false operational timeline, creating a paper trail that placed him on a routine perimeter patrol miles away from the Spire, his heart hammering against his ribs with every forged entry. It finally struck him as he signed the last forged document. Why exactly were the elders suddenly so cruel to their little intruder? Because they are hiding something. Of course, they must be involved in the barrier breach or at least know what caused it. It's wild but probably. His thoughts raced as possible theories crisscrossed his mind. He had to prove them right.
As midnight descended, chilling the city and wrapping it in absolute silence, he approached the Royal Spire. It stood like a colossal, inaccessible monument to power. The security around the structure wasn't just physical; it felt psychological—a crushing weight of eyes and unseen sensors.
He reached Gate 3, a recessed, heavily armored entry point designed to be invisible unless sought out. The area was dim and cold, smelling of stale rain and granite.
A shadow peeled itself away from the wall: Captain Emrys. She wore midnight-black armor etched with the Crown's silver insignia, which absorbed the faint light. She was smaller than Ryker, but her posture was rigid, her presence commanding. Her face, sharp, severe, and utterly unreadable, was framed by the dark helmet she carried tucked under her arm. She carried no visible weapon, a chilling sign that she was the weapon.
"Colonel Ryker," Emrys stated, her voice a low, precise whisper that carried surprising authority. "You used Protocol Azimuth. That is reserved for an imminent, catastrophic threat to the Crown itself. You have risked everything for this whisper."
Ryker forced himself to meet her gaze, the adrenaline in his blood a frantic, icy rush. "Captain, I believe this is catastrophic," he replied, his voice barely audible, raw with controlled emotion. "I came directly from the detention facility. General Thax is holding a young girl. The official report labels her a hostile operative who breached the outer barrier."
"I am aware of the official report," Emrys cut in, her eyes narrowed, skeptical. "And the Elders' mandate for her swift—and I mean swift—interrogation."
"The girl is innocent," Ryker pressed, taking a dangerous half-step closer. "She is a scapegoat. A reliable source confirmed she has severe amnesia. She has endured hours of intense brutality and cannot give them the confession they seek because she doesn't know who she is. The Elders are sacrificing her to quickly cover a security failure. If she dies in that cell, the Elders secure their silence, but the actual threat, the real breach, walks free. Their paranoia is creating a bigger danger for the realm."
Emrys listened, her face a mask of stone. The silence after Ryker finished was agonizing—a minute in which his entire career, his life, and the girl's survival hung suspended.
"You are suggesting the Elders," Emrys finally said, her voice dropping to a dangerous, low register, "the architects of our stability, are engaging in deliberate deception and ordering the torture of a child to cover their own incompetence. This is sedition, Colonel. Not intelligence." They both knew the consequences of his assumptions.
"I am reporting what I have witnessed," Ryker insisted, the desperation finally bleeding into his tone. "I saw the General strike her. I saw the aftermath. The inhumanity of it is proof enough of their desperation to secure a false narrative. If the Crown doubts me, let them send a physician, not an executioner. A royal physician will confirm the amnesia. That is the proof that invalidates their entire interrogation and proves the Elders' deceit."
Emrys's gaze did not waver. "The King and Queen are aware of the breach. They instructed me to accept no petition against the Elders' security measures unless there was undisputed proof of political sabotage."
"Then let me bring them the proof!" Ryker urged. Silence. His grey eyes were silently pleading for her help. She sighed heavily.
Emrys reached inside her tunic with slow, deliberate movements, pulling out a small, metallic object—a secure keycard the color of oxidized copper.
"I cannot send royal staff into that facility," she said, her voice cold steel. "That would be a declaration of war against the Elders' authority. But I can offer you a narrow window. Take this. It is an authorization key for a low-profile transport glider, stripped of identifying markings. It will be waiting at the perimeter barracks—the depot you signed out on—in two hours. You will bring the girl to the Spire Medical Wing yourself."
She pressed the keycard into his palm. It was cold, heavy, and felt like the weight of his entire future.
"If she is alive, and the amnesia is unequivocally confirmed by the Royal Medical Chief," Emrys concluded, her eyes burning into his, "I will personally present your case to the Queen. You have until dawn, Colonel. Fail to arrive, or arrive with the wrong body, and I will issue an immediate warrant for your execution. If General Thax catches you before then, understand this: I never met you."
Ryker's decision is made: direct action is the only choice. He must now risk everything to get the girl out. He slowly nodded and began to walk off. He understood she only helped due to their history together so she trusted him, but she couldn't risk her life for another.
"Ryker," He half turned to look back at her. She looked ethereal in the scarlet moonlight. "Good luck." Emrys let it escape her soft lips reluctantly and a timid but comforting smile tagged at his lips. She wasn't one to express her emotions but even she knew the chances of success were minimal.