Scene 9
The bodies had been cleared. The room was quiet again.
Kael sat on the edge of the bed, his shirt sleeve torn, a faint line of dried blood on his arm. His eyes were unfocused—not tired, just still.
Downstairs, the tension hadn't lifted.
Agent Marx stood at the front door, speaking in hushed tones with the remaining loyal agents. Aria paced the hallway, arms folded tightly, glancing toward the stairs every few seconds.
Then… a car pulled up outside.
Too early for reinforcements.
Marx turned sharply, weapon at his side but not raised. Two men exited the vehicle—agents, but not ones he'd requested.
Marx frowned. "Who sent you?"
One of them—slim, calm-eyed, coat unzipped—flashed an authorization chip. "Command rerouted us. We've been assigned as liaisons to the subject."
Marx didn't lower his guard. "You weren't on the roster."
The agent smiled coolly. "We're not here for you."
---
Upstairs, Kael turned his head as the footsteps approached. Calm. Unhurried.
The door opened without a knock.
Two men stepped in. One stood behind. The other took a few steps forward, scanning the room like he was measuring something.
Kael didn't move.
The lead man gave a polite nod. "Kael, is it? You've caused quite a stir."
Kael said nothing.
The man smiled, as if expecting that. "We're not your enemy. We're here because... you deserve to know the truth."
Still silence.
The man didn't seem bothered. "Do you know why they're keeping you here?" he asked, glancing around the room. "They think you're dangerous. They're waiting for a reason to lock you away."
Kael's eyes shifted. Slightly.
That could be true.
The agent stepped closer, voice calm and smooth. "You weren't always like this. You had a different life before all this. We know what happened to you—what was done to you. They won't tell you, because they want to control it. Control you."
Kael tilted his head.
Done to me?
The man smiled again, seeing the opening. "You think your powers just... appeared? You were part of something. Something deeper. And we can help you understand it. Reconnect you with who you were before all this."
Kael's fingers curled slightly over his knee. He didn't believe them.
Not fully.
But part of the logic made sense.
> The others had attacked him.
These ones were offering clarity.
A possible cause. A missing reason.
Not trust—but information.
The agent crouched slightly so his eyes met Kael's. "We don't want to control you. We want to help you take control."
Behind him, Marx entered the room, voice sharp. "Step back."
The two men didn't move. The lead one raised a hand slowly. "We're not here to fight. We're just giving him the choice they never did."
Marx looked to Kael. "They're not from central command. They're rogue."
The agent spoke again. "That's what he wants you to think."
Kael stood.
Both sides tensed.
He looked from Marx… to the other man… then back again.
Then he spoke. "If I go with you, what will you do?"
The agent replied smoothly. "Show you everything. The facility. Your real history. Where it began."
Kael stared.
And then, simply said, "Lies."
He turned away.
The agent frowned. "You don't know that."
Kael didn't answer. He didn't need to.
He had already calculated what mattered:
They used force first.
They changed tactics after they failed.
They offered no proof.
He sat back down.
Marx didn't speak—but a flicker of relief crossed his face.
The intruders took one final look, then backed out.
But as they exited, the second agent muttered under his breath, just loud enough for Kael to hear:
"They'll turn on you too. You'll see."
Kael didn't react. But his eyes followed them until the door shut behind them.