Author: [writers hub]
The darkness of the sub-level was absolute, broken only by the frantic beam of Zara's small flashlight, which now trembled in her hand. The rhythmic thud of approaching footsteps intensified, disciplined and synchronized, utterly unlike the chaotic movements of ordinary mercenaries. Then, shapes began to materialize from the gloom: tall, cloaked figures, their faces obscured by deep hoods. They moved with a silent, eerie grace, forming a tight semicircle around her.
"Who are you?" Zara demanded, her voice echoing unnaturally in the confined space. Her mind raced, sifting through the depths of Mae-Yeon's journal, searching for any mention of such an organization. Nothing matched.
"We are the Keepers of the Ancient Way," the voice from the shadows replied, the words resonating with a disturbing, almost cult-like reverence. The speaker stepped forward, his hood remaining deep, but Zara could sense his gaze, sharp and analytical, piercing through the darkness. "And you, Mrs. Botermet, have disrupted a delicate balance."
One of the cloaked figures moved with astonishing speed, disarming Zara with a swift, fluid motion. The dagger, Mae-Yeon's "gift," was expertly plucked from her grasp. Another seized her arm, binding her wrists with a thin, surprisingly strong cord before she could even react. There was no struggle, no wasted movement. These were not mere thugs. They were trained, precise, and utterly devoid of emotion.
"Grand-aunt Mae-Yeon sends her regards," the leader continued, his voice devoid of irony. "She knew you would prove... resourceful. A valuable asset, if properly guided. But also a risk, if left unchecked."
"Asset?" Zara scoffed, fear replaced by a surge of defiance. "You're terrorists! You're trying to destroy Ragnar!"
The leader chuckled softly, a dry, humorless sound. "Destroy? No. We seek to reclaim. To restore the Botermet family to its original purpose, its true power. Ragnar, unfortunately, has forgotten the meaning of 'unrivaled mastery of discretion.' He has allowed the family to become… soft. Vulnerable. Exposed." His gaze, even through the cowl, felt dismissive. "We simply aim to correct his missteps. And you, Mrs. Botermet, are now integral to that correction."
He gestured to one of the cloaked figures, who presented a small, ornate vial. It gleamed faintly in the dim light. Zara felt a prickle of alarm.
"What is that?" she demanded, instinctively trying to pull back, but the grip on her wrist was unyielding.
"A truth serum," the leader stated calmly. "Of our own ancient making. It does not harm. It merely loosens the tongue. We believe there are... details you may have overlooked in Grand-aunt Mae-Yeon's journal. Details that could expedite our transition." He nodded to the cloaked figure, who moved swiftly.
Terror surged through Zara. A truth serum? They wanted to extract every secret she knew about Ragnar's counter-plans, about the deeper knowledge she possessed. She had deciphered Mae-Yeon's journal, found her vulnerabilities. Now, those very insights would be used against Ragnar, against Hana.
Just then, a faint, rhythmic thudding began to echo through the sub-level, growing louder. It wasn't the distant roar of the convention hall, but a precise, coordinated movement from somewhere above, drawing closer.
"Director Ahn and the Shadow Wolves are securing the building," Zara bluffed, praying it was true. "Ragnar won't let this stand!"
The leader merely tilted his head slightly. "Ragnar is currently… preoccupied. His attention is fixed on the stage, where our secondary broadcast will soon begin."
Zara's heart plummeted. Secondary broadcast? Mae-Yeon had a backup. She hadn't just intended to cut the main feed; she had another broadcast ready to go. The deepfake would return, perhaps even more devastating than before.
"Inject her," the leader commanded, his voice sharp.
The figure with the vial moved, his gloved hand reaching for Zara's neck. Zara struggled wildly, desperation fueling her. She bucked, kicked, anything to avoid the inevitable. The silent, efficient figures held her firm, their strength overwhelming. She felt a sharp prick. A cold, creeping sensation spread from her neck, down into her limbs, heavy, sluggish. Her thoughts began to blur, her resistance weakening.
"Now," the leader continued, his voice fading in and out of focus, "tell us everything you know about Ragnar's weaknesses. About the Botermet legacy he conceals. About the location of the True Black Ledger." The words, heavy with ancient power and chilling implication, pulsed through Zara's fading consciousness, revealing a secret far deeper than Ragnar's mere financial trust, a ledger that could expose the very soul of the underworld, and Zara, her mind now swimming in a forced haze, was about to become the involuntary key to its darkest revelations, utterly helpless in the grip of Mae-Yeon's true, terrifying enforcers as the chaos above them reached a new, desperate crescendo, with Ragnar still unaware of the deep, unseen threat Zara now faced.