The facility's dark silhouette came into view — tall, angular towers jutting into the sky, their glass surfaces reflecting the last glimmers of daylight. The horizon behind them was bleeding into night, the pale lavender of dusk giving way to deep indigo. Security lights flickered on, casting pools of white across the front entrance, their beams cutting clean lines through the crisp evening air.
Dawon slowed his steps, golden eyes scanning the walls as if measuring their strength. The lion had spent most of his life in the forest; the towering steel and glass still felt alien. Even so, after witnessing Om's battle with Dev earlier, some of the tightness in his shoulders had loosened. There was a new steadiness to his movements, though the restless twitch of his tail betrayed his lingering discomfort with the crowds inside.
When they stepped through the doors into the reception hall, the familiar hum of the facility wrapped around them — the low vibration of generators, the faint buzz of lighting strips, the distant thud of training in one of the underground arenas. It smelled faintly of oil, ozone, and sterilized metal.
Behind the front desk, an attendant in a slate-gray uniform looked up from a tablet. "Master Om," she said with a polite bow. "One moment." She reached under the desk and set a long, rectangular case on the counter.
Om stepped forward, placing his hand on the biometric pad at its center. A green light blinked, and the case hissed open, revealing the Seismic Drum.
The moment Om's fingers touched it, the weapon pulsed with a deep, resonant hum, like a heartbeat in the earth itself. The engravings flared briefly, then the entire drum dissolved into a stream of golden-white particles, condensing into a small orb of light. It floated for an instant, before darting forward and vanishing into the space just between Om's brows.
A faint pressure bloomed in his mind — the quiet, steady thrum of the weapon's dormant power settling back into place.
"Welcome back," Om murmured, more to the weapon than anyone else.
The attendant's eyes flickered briefly toward Bhanu but she said nothing. Bhanu, in turn, simply gestured toward the elevators.
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Their ride to the residential level was silent, save for the faint swish of the elevator doors and the soft click of Dawon's claws against the metal floor. Om's mind, however, was anything but still. The events of the past week — the assassination attempt, the battles, the whispers of the League of Evil — churned together into a single, knotted thread.
When the elevator doors opened, Bhanu gave a curt nod. "Rest. Tomorrow will be another long day."
Om inclined his head. "Goodnight, Bhanu."
The man strode off down the corridor, his heavy steps fading into the distance. Om unlocked his room and stepped inside, Dawon slipping past him to settle immediately in a quiet corner. The lion gave a soft sigh, curling up with his back to the wall, eyes already drooping.
Om locked the door behind them.
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The room was dim, lit only by the soft amber glow of the wall lamp. Om sat on the edge of his bed, fingers steepled, and spoke aloud — though his words were for no human ear.
"Zero. Bring up all relevant data on Bhanu."
[Accessing,] Zero answered, smooth and crystalline.
[Compiling known movements, recorded interactions, and behavioral anomalies.]
Lines of data flashed into Om's mind's eye — timestamps, mission logs, training records, even the subtle body language analyses Zero had been running in the background.
"You are behaving more like AIs of current era's technology."
[It's your imagination.]
"Okay, continue."
[Your suspicion: Bhanu may be an operative or informant for the League of Evil,]
Zero continued.
[Cross-referencing his activities against known League patterns.]
Om leaned back, one leg crossed over the other. "He had opportunities," he murmured.
"Access to trainees, to schedules, to the forest assignment… and he was present both before and after the assassination attempt."
[True,] Zero agreed.
[However, correlation does not equal causation.]
A three-dimensional timeline materialized in Om's perception, each node a point in Bhanu's recent history. Zero began to highlight inconsistencies in pale blue.
[Observation: Three instances of unexplained absence from facility premises. Duration: between 30 minutes and 2 hours. These periods correspond to gaps in official duty logs.]
Om's brow furrowed. "Sounds suspicious."
[Counterpoint,] Zero replied.
[Surveillance records recovered from auxiliary security nodes indicate Bhanu was in the subterranean training wing during each absence. Accompanied by trainees in remedial combat classes.]
Om blinked. "…That's not the image of a spy."
[Agreed. Additional note: The League's infiltration pattern favors personnel with low public visibility and minimal combat profile. Bhanu is a high-visibility, high-activity individual. His removal would create noticeable disruption — an undesirable trait for covert operatives.]
Om rubbed his chin. "So if he's not a spy…?"
[Probability assessment: Bhanu is not aligned with the League of Evil. Estimated confidence: 96.4%.]
The knot in Om's chest eased, just slightly. He'd never fully trusted anyone here — but Bhanu's straightforward nature and directness always felt… clean. This confirmation from Zero was the final weight tipping the scales.
"Good," Om said quietly. "One less name to keep on the list."
[Recommendation,] Zero added.
[Continue to monitor regardless. Trust, but verify.]
Om smirked faintly. "You're learning."
[Correction,] Zero said in that perfectly even tone.
[I was designed that way.]
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He stood and crossed to Dawon's corner. The lion was already deep in sleep, chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. One paw twitched slightly, as though he were chasing something in a dream.
Kneeling, Om placed a hand lightly on Dawon's mane. "You did well today," he murmured. "You're starting to see it, aren't you? That we can stand here, no matter what's thrown at us."
Dawon's tail flicked once in his sleep, as if in agreement.
Om rose again, the weight of the Seismic Drum's quiet presence pulsing faintly in his mind. Somewhere in the depths of the facility, training continued. Somewhere beyond these walls, the League of Evil was moving its pieces.
But for tonight, the list of possible traitors was shorter. The circle of trust — however small — had gained one more.
And that, Om decided, was enough to rest on.