Hailen moved with purpose, every step echoing across the cold stone corridors as Bright led his squad toward Sector Seven. His presence alone seemed to cut through the tension. Soldiers saluted sharply as he passed. Officers straightened. Even Rolf stood taller, though he pretended not to.
Bright's heart pounded—not from fear, but urgency. Every second lost was a second the Covenant prepared their next strike.
Hailen finally spoke, voice low and controlled. "Tell me exactly what you heard."
Bright repeated the muffled phrases:
"Tonight… last batch… no delays… mark the grain… purification hall…"
Lira added, "The vent smelled of the same ink as the mark left by the food storeroom."
Mara whispered, "Their psychic residue was faint… but present. They've been using the vents for weeks."
Hailen's jaw tightened. "Cult infiltration that deep… and we missed it, what's command turning into."
Rolf, predictably, grunted. "Republic leaders are blind."
"Or overwhelmed," Fen murmured.
