The morning broke slowly, as if even the sun hesitated to rise over what was left of the old psychological outpost. Kirion stood alone at the edge of the ridge, watching the fog roll over the distant valleys like a creeping tide. His fingers tapped rhythmically against the spine of his notebook, a habit he'd developed during times of tension.
They were close. He felt it—not just in his bones, but in the pulse of the network that hummed with fresh signals, recently intercepted transmissions, and whispers from informants. His daughter was alive. And more than that—she was leaving him breadcrumbs.
Kael approached from behind, her steps light but purposeful. She held out a datapad. "You'll want to see this."
Kirion took it. On the screen was a video—grainy, silent, timestamped two nights ago. The angle was from a motion-triggered camera embedded in the ruins. A figure darted across the screen. Slender. Hooded. Moving like someone who knew exactly where they were going.
"Play it again," he said, already knowing what he would see.
Kael replayed it. This time, Kirion zoomed in. The gait, the posture, even the way she stopped and looked back briefly at the camera—it all screamed of his daughter.
"She's tracing her steps," he murmured. "Leaving signs... or checking for someone following her."
"Why not contact us directly?" Kael asked.
Kirion didn't answer right away. He stared at the screen a few seconds longer before locking the datapad.
"Because she doesn't know who she can trust. Not fully. And if she's this close, she's operating under the assumption we're being watched."
Kael nodded grimly. "She's smart."
"She's mine," Kirion said with a faint smile. "And she knows I'm getting close."
Later that day, Zae returned from a run into a nearby tech outpost with what proved to be a major break—a partially corrupted data key recovered from a downed government drone. They spent hours decrypting it, and by nightfall, Kael had pieced together fragments of a surveillance directive. It referenced Subject Seraph-9—Kirion's daughter's codename within the government's black sites.
"She escaped," Kael said. "This says she triggered a partial facility lockdown but got out before reinforcements arrived."
Kirion leaned in, eyes fixed on the screen. "Which facility?"
Zae pointed to coordinates: deep underground, in the Eastern Sector's restricted zone.
"That place was supposed to be sealed after the Reformation Riots," Kael said, shaking her head. "But clearly, someone reopened it."
"Probably under someone else's orders," Kirion replied. "We find that facility—we find her."
He stood. Every instinct, every trail, every half-told truth had led here. His daughter wasn't just surviving—she was searching for something. Or someone. And Kirion knew that to understand her journey, he had to finish uncovering his own.
"Pack up," he said. "We move tonight."
Kael gave him a look. "Straight into the Eastern Sector?"
"We've danced around the truth long enough," Kirion said. "It's time we kick in the door."