The chaos had not stopped since the audio leaked.
Every day, more clips spread online. People cut it into shorter videos, translated it into every language they could manage, and replayed it endlessly. It stopped being a shock very quickly. What replaced it was anger.
The government tried to suppress it from the beginning. Sites were blocked, posts deleted, and official statements rolled out claiming the recording was fake. None of it worked.
The audio had already been uploaded across international platforms, encrypted forums, and underground boards at the same time. By the time the crackdown started, it was already everywhere.
Within a week, protests broke out in every major city. Streets filled with people holding signs and shouting at cameras. At first, it was just noise. Then windows shattered, and soon after, buildings began to burn.
The police tried to hold their lines, but fewer officers showed up each day. Some threw their uniforms into the street and joined the crowds. Others simply stopped coming back.
Guilds that had been lurking in the background started stepping forward. They took control of districts, put up barricades, and told the government to stay out. Some ruled through fear, others kept their areas stable and claimed they were protecting the people. Either way, they filled the space the state was leaving behind.
No one really knew what had happened in the capital. Explanations spread everywhere. Rival factions. Foreign interference. A rogue awakened, acting on a personal grudge.
In the end, most people stopped caring who was responsible.
They didn't need a name. Whoever he was had torn away the curtain and shown them what the people in power had been doing behind closed doors. Without him, those secrets would have stayed buried.
On the streets, people spoke about him constantly. Some called him a hero. Others called him a weapon. Still, very few blamed him.
The government's grip was slipping. Every speech they made sounded more desperate than the last. Every promise they gave was met with shouts and laughter. The harder they tried to pull control back, the faster it slipped away.
For Raven, it was perfect.
The chaos gave him cover. While the eyes of the country were fixed on burning streets and crumbling authority, nobody noticed one young man and woman moving between dungeons.
While the country tore itself apart, he trained Amelia.
The riots, the fractured borders, the guilds seizing control of entire neighbourhoods, all of it bought him time. He knew it would not last forever.
But for now, the noise outside meant no one was looking for him. No one was watching closely enough to notice what he was doing. And in that space, he could work.
…
Raven and Amelia's routine settled into something almost normal. Breakfast, then the dungeon, training until the light faded and darkness swallowed the sky. They'd come back, eat dinner, and crash, especially Amelia, who was dead on her feet by the end of each day.
A couple of days later, Raven stood in the doorway, already dressed to head out.
"I will be gone for a while," he said simply, carrying his usual calm demeanour. He set a few takeaway containers on the small table. "Eat something. Watch a film if you want. Just stay here."
He walked over to the corner shelf, picked through a messy pile of old DVDs and tossed a few onto the couch. "Random stuff. Should keep you from dying of boredom."
She crossed her arms. "I am not going to waste my time watching your trash movies."
He gave her a single, unreadable look, as always. "Then find something else to do. But do not leave."
With that, he left, the door shutting behind him with a solid thud.
Amelia stayed still for a few seconds, listening to his footsteps fade until she was left all alone in complete silence.
'What am I supposed to do now?' she thought, glancing at the DVDs lying on the couch.
She had no interest in sitting through two hours of some outdated action film, but she also knew Raven meant what he said about not leaving.
'Urgh, whatever... nothing to do anyway.'
She dropped onto the couch anyway, more out of irritation than comfort, and picked up the remote.
Amelia started flicking through the channels, barely pausing on any of them. An old sitcom with canned laughter. Some drama where the acting made her cringe. A cooking show she had no interest in.
Her thumb slowed when she hit a news channel.
On-screen, the anchor's tone was tense, her words sharp. Amelia barely listened at first. She was used to the news being full of political lies and pointless talk. Still, she let it play in the background as she slouched back into the couch.
'Same garbage as always. Another "urgent" update about something that is not going to change anything.'
But then, a few words made her ears twitch. "…the now-viral audio recording, which continues to spread across every platform despite government attempts to suppress it…"
Amelia sat up slightly, curiosity edging out her boredom. The anchor's expression was serious, eyes locked on the camera. Behind her, the big screen displayed a blurry still image of some official building.
"…causing a wave of protests across multiple cities. The recording, most likely taken moments before the destruction of the Kremlin's east wing, contains a conversation implicating several high-ranking officials, including the late president himself, in coordinated crimes against their own citizens…"
"As we reported yesterday, the man in this recording was identified as Alexey Ivanov, who was also found dead yesterday."
'No..., it can't be, the recording has my father!?
'How-'
'No, my father wouldn't...'
Her gaze locked onto the TV, thoughts starting to turn.
'Destruction of the Kremlin…' The words pulled her back to that day. The chaos. And Raven.
She had not thought much about it since, but something about this… something in the back of her mind itched.
The anchor continued, her voice growing sharper. "…no group has claimed responsibility for the attack, and authorities are still investigating. But the release of this recording has only further damaged the government's control. Many believe the bombing was carried out by someone trying to expose the truth."
Amelia shifted forward on the couch. Her curiosity was now hooked. 'Expose the truth…? What truth?'
The screen switched to a brief montage: clips of riots, burning barricades, people marching with signs. She noticed how many of them seemed to be chanting for change, not revenge. That alone was strange.
Then the anchor said, "We now have the full audio recording. It has been shared millions of times online. The following contains language and content that some viewers may find disturbing."
'Full recording… they are actually going to play it on air?' Amelia's eyes narrowed.
But instead of playing it right away, they cut to another scene, showing security forces clashing with protesters. Her patience snapped.
'Forget this,' she thought, already scanning the room for something she could use to look it up herself. Her eyes landed on a small desk in the corner. She crossed the room and pulled open the drawers, finding an old but functional tablet inside. She pressed the power button. The screen lit up slowly, and after a few seconds, she was on the main menu.
'Perfect.'
She sat back down and typed in a few words she remembered from the broadcast: "Viral Audio recording, Kremlin, Ivanov." She hesitated at the last part but still pressed Enter regardless.
The search results flooded in instantly. Dozens of sites. Multiple mirrors. Even video titles in languages she did not recognise.
She clicked the first link, her chest tightening. 'Please… let it be fake. Just some sick joke.'
The full audio began to play almost immediately.
Her father's voice was clear but slightly quivering. Raven's voice, on the other hand, was muffled behind a filter. But for some reason, she could mostly make out what he was saying.
The back-and-forth was like a knife fight without blades, every sentence cutting deep.
Amelia sat perfectly still, her eyes locked on the screen, even though there was nothing to watch.
Every sound was burned into her mind. Every pause, every shift in tone, every word they spoke pressed heavier on her chest.
Word by word, sentence by sentence, a new reality unfolded before her.
She could already tell that whatever her father had done, it wasn't a lie or some minor slip. It was real. It was massive. And it had clearly shaken not only millions of people but Raven himself.
Her throat felt dry. She wanted to stop it, to shut the lid, to never hear another word. But her fingers would not move.
'I can't… not until I know.'
She could not look away. She could not stop listening.