Chapter 15: Echoes of Betrayal
The dilapidated warehouse smelled of oil and decay, a fitting location for a meeting neither party could trust. Ikran stood near the entrance, his sharp eyes scanning every shadow. Across the room, a figure emerged—a man Ikran once called an ally, now just a painful reminder of Kentofes’ betrayal.
“Daya,” Ikran said, his voice cold.
Daya smirked, stepping into the light. His suit, though immaculate, seemed out of place in the grimy surroundings. “It’s been a long time, Ikran. I thought you’d have disappeared by now, like the others.”
“I’m not like the others,” Ikran replied. “And I didn’t come here to reminisce.”
Daya raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening. “No, of course not. You came for information. Let me guess—Dunnorage?”
Ikran’s silence was answer enough.
Daya chuckled, pacing slowly. “Always so predictable. You think you can stop it, don’t you? That you can undo everything Kentofes has built?”
“I know I can,” Ikran said, his voice firm. “And I know you’re smart enough to realize that staying with Kentofes won’t end well for you.”
Daya stopped, his expression darkening. “You think you can intimidate me? You’re a fugitive, Ikran. An outcast. Kentofes owns this city. You have nothing.”
Ikran stepped forward, his tone sharper. “You’re wrong. I have the truth. And I have people who are willing to fight for it.”
Daya hesitated, his confidence faltering for a split second. “Even if you had an army, you wouldn’t stand a chance. Dunnorage isn’t just a device—it’s the future. One Kentofes is prepared to die for.”
“And what about you?” Ikran pressed. “Are you prepared to die for it, too? Or are you just another pawn in their game?”
The question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken.
Daya looked away, his jaw tightening. “You don’t understand, Ikran. Kentofes doesn’t lose. They eliminate threats before they even become problems. You’re already dead—you just don’t know it yet.”
Ikran stepped closer, his voice low. “Then why are you still talking to me, Daya? If I’m dead, why haven’t you pulled the trigger?”
Daya’s hand hovered near his weapon but didn’t move. For a moment, the two men locked eyes, years of shared history boiling down to this one moment.
“You used to believe in something,” Ikran said quietly. “Something more than power. More than control. If that part of you still exists, help me. Tell me what Kentofes is planning.”
Daya’s shoulders sagged, and he exhaled slowly. “You’re insane, Ikran. But you always were.”
He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small data drive. “This is all I have. It’s a blueprint for PRASASTI’s security system, including the lab where they’re keeping the deactivation protocol. If you’re stupid enough to try and break in, you’ll need this.”
Ikran took the drive, his expression unreadable. “Why are you giving me this?”
Daya’s smirk returned, though it lacked its earlier confidence. “Let’s just say I’ve learned not to underestimate you. Besides, if you fail, I can tell Kentofes I was just baiting you.”
“Fair enough,” Ikran said, slipping the drive into his pocket. “But if you’re lying to me, I’ll come back. And you won’t like how that ends.”
Daya laughed, though there was no humor in it. “Still the same old Ikran. Good luck—you’ll need it.”
Ikran turned and walked away, his grip tightening on the drive as he left the warehouse.
Back at the safehouse, Maria and Julia waited anxiously for Ikran’s return. When he finally walked through the door, their questions came in rapid fire.
“What happened?” Maria asked.
“Did you get anything?” Julia added.
Ikran held up the drive, his face grim. “A map of PRASASTI. It’s not much, but it’s enough to get us in.”
Julia took the drive, her determination clear. “Then we make it work. We’re running out of time.”
Maria nodded, her resolve matching Julia’s. “Let’s do it.”
As they began to plan their infiltration, Ikran couldn’t shake the look on Daya’s face—the mix of fear, regret, and something that almost looked like hope.
Kentofes wasn’t invincible. Not yet.
But their fight was far from over.