The Council Chamber smelled faintly of incense and old parchment, an intentional mask for the less pleasant scents drifting up from the river below. Sunlight speared through tall stained-glass windows, coloring the marble floor in fractured reds and blues.
Kael stood in the center ring, the place where petitioners and defendants alike presented their cases. Around him, the half-circle of elevated seats held the thirteen members of the City Council — old bloodlines, merchant guild heads, and one representative of the Hunter's Guild.
It should have felt like neutral ground. Instead, Kael could feel the weight of eyes that weren't entirely human.
Councilor Branth, a heavyset man with silver-threaded hair and a voice like gravel, spoke first. "Kael Renn, we are aware of your… activities… beneath the city."
Kael kept his tone flat. "Then you're aware I'm cleaning up what your guards won't touch."
A murmur rippled through the chamber. Councilor Thalen, the Hunter's Guild rep, raised a hand for silence. "Your last foray caused structural damage to an aqueduct carrying water to three districts. The repair cost alone—"
"—is nothing compared to the cost if the hive takes that line," Kael interrupted.
A sharp rap of the Speaker's staff cut the air. "Enough. The Council's decision is unanimous. You will cease operations in the southern and eastern tunnels until further notice."
Kael felt the words like a blow to the chest. "You're blocking me from the second marked site."
Branth's mouth tightened. "For security reasons."
Ryn, standing just inside the visitor's rail, muttered under her breath, "Security for who?"
Kael looked up at the row of Councilors. He let his eyes pass over each face, pausing just long enough to watch for the flicker — that faint, unnatural pulse beneath the skin, the telltale hive rhythm.
He saw it in two of them. Barely there, hidden behind makeup and stillness, but enough.
Hive influence. In the Council Chamber itself.
"If you think I'm going to wait while you debate, you've misread me," Kael said.
The Speaker leaned forward. "You are bound by the Guild charter—"
"Charters burn," Kael said, voice low. "Roots spread."
The chamber erupted into shouts.
By the time the guards — C-Rank (Mid), GP ~340 each — moved to escort him out, Kael had already decided his next move. He let them take him to the hall, but the moment they released his arm, he cut down the side stair toward the lower archives.
Ryn was right on his heels. "You're going to the site anyway, aren't you?"
"Not yet," he said. "First we find out who they're protecting."
The Council kept records of all restricted zones in the city, from plague houses to unstable tunnels. Those records were stored in the lower archives, guarded by scribes who knew better than to ask questions.
Kael found the section marked Eastern Works – Closed Access. The most recent entries had no signature — unusual — and the sealing wax bore no Guild crest.
One map caught his eye: the eastern tunnels, with a bold red circle not far from the river bends. Right where the second mark on the Binder's map lay.
"Got you," Kael murmured.
He rolled the map and slid it into his pack — and that's when he heard the scrape of boots on stone.
The scribe at the far table wasn't alone anymore. Beside him stood a tall, thin man in Council colors… and eyes just a shade too pale.
Council Agent — B-Rank (Low), GP ~1,040 (Hive-Influenced).
"You shouldn't be here," the Agent said, and there was nothing human in the way his voice carried.
Kael drew his knife. "Neither should you."
The Agent moved like water, closing the space in a blink. His first strike was a palm-heel aimed at Kael's sternum. Kael caught it on Stonehide, the impact still enough to send him back two steps.
Ryn fired from the doorway, the bolt catching the Agent high in the shoulder. Black-green ichor spilled, but the man didn't falter.
Kael lunged in, slashing across the ribs. The bark-like armor under the man's tunic split, sap oozing.
[C-Rank (High) | GP: 855 + 20 = 875]
The Agent staggered, but his lips curled into something like a smile. "You'll never reach the second heart."
Kael shoved him back against the table. "Then I'll cut the first one out of you."
The man convulsed, roots tearing through his skin, and collapsed into a twitching heap.
The scribe at the far table had frozen, ink dripping from his quill. "I didn't see anything," he whispered.
Kael stepped past him. "Good. Keep it that way."
Outside, the air was heavy with the threat of rain. Kael unfurled the stolen map, studying the red circle.
"It's not just a tunnel," Ryn said, peering over his shoulder. "That's under the old tannery district."
Kael's eyes narrowed. "Plenty of cover. Plenty of rot for the hive to feed on."
Ryn glanced around the street. "You think the Council's blocking you because the hive's already entrenched?"
He folded the map. "I think they've decided whose side they're on."
They would move that night.
No petitions. No permission. No more waiting for the Council to decide whether the city was worth saving.
Kael would take the fight to the second mark — and if the hive wanted to hide behind the Council, he'd cut through them both.