Kael's whole life had been shaped by a base of chill suspicion. The Surface had regulations but the foremost was unwavering: Nothing coming from the Dome is reliable. Still he remained within the core of the foes fortress gazing at a gold-coated fiber recently set up by an Astra Archivist to guarantee the success of his mission.
Through his gloves he sensed the cold metal of the conduit box. Anya hadn't just corrected an issue; she had shown an understanding of his specific data needs and the exact schedule of Astra's security scans. She had gambled on a risk that according to Astra's Compliance rules would result in execution.
She is deceptive. She is a snare. The notion arose instantly a shield forged from twenty years of endurance.. That shield was now corroded and faltering. Her eyes seconds earlier contained the defiance he experienced whenever he glanced at the poisonous crimson image of the Dome. Her justification—"My duty is to the preservation of truth"—was a perilous principle that the Umbra grasped more comprehensively than the Astra. The truth, for both their communities was lethal.
The data siphon emitted a hum, a consistent deep tone that now bore the burden of their mutual betrayal. Kael glanced at his wrist terminal. The transmission speed was impeccable; the gold-plated buffer functioned flawlessly. The Solar Retribution Array schematics would be locked away within sixty minutes.
His attention had to be, on the following stage: extraction.
His initial strategy involved starting the counteraction—a deliberate magnetic containment failure, in the Dome's secondary power control systems—to generate sufficient local disorder to facilitate his escape and conceal the data retrieval. This was the order given to him by the Umbra High Council.
He examined the junction box controls. The activation order for the breach was straightforward. It wouldn't instantly kill Astra residents. Would knock out the citys power for several days causing system breakdowns, food shortages and mass alarm. It was a essential harshness to compel Astra to shift resources providing the Umbra an opportunity, for supply missions.
However at this moment he faltered. If Anya was battling for the "truth " if she was putting everything on the line knowing the Astra were crafting a weapon of destruction how could he deliberately cause pain, to the city she was sacrificing her life to defend?
The magnetic containment failure would serve as vengeance. The information was the secret, to Umbras continued existence.
I won't activate the countermeasure. He chose immediately a decisive severance from his military directives. He had been a betrayer to the Umbra, for hesitating; now he was an active defector.
He pushed the guilt away. Started to secure the nearby area for his getaway. That's when he noticed it.
He recalled fumbling for it by the wall the instant of fear when he believed he had misplaced his psychic focus. He brushed his hand across the immaculate, floor where Anya had been. Nothing.
At that moment he sensed a nearly undetectable pull of resistance on his glove close, to the ventilation duct. He knelt down his gaze locked on the junction where the floor joined the pipe. The surface was sealed,. A minuscule subtle depression was present—the exact spot where her diagnostic tool had been placed.
Nestled, within that hollow the dark coarse obsidian amulet rested flawlessly.
Kael lifted it. It felt cool yet free of dust. Someone had cleaned it erasing any traces of the Surface. The tiny engraved lines of the old Umbra emblem—a twisting river and a fractured star—were sharp and distinct.
She had discovered it. She recognized it as alien. She was aware of the risk it posed and she had, with the accuracy of a surgeon returned it to the single location he was certain to inspect making sure only he would find it.
It was not a snare. It represented a trust, a silent recognition that she grasped the price of his quest. She viewed him as a being, not a beast.
The disclosure shattered the barriers of his feelings. He wasn't solitary in this torment. He had discovered a comrade, in the one spot he never imagined to encounter compassion.
He needed to respond. His Umbra training warned that speaking led to capture. His Seeker reasoning insisted that trust was a risk.. The starving human within yearning for connection overpowered them both.
He swiftly grabbed the data chip from the siphon. Ninety minutes sooner than planned. He was free to flee. He chose not to. He needed to leave her a message showing he recognized the weight she now bore.
Kael approached a system terminal, a robust metal casing created to store archival data logs. He powered on his wrist terminal channeling his encryption program via the gold-plated fiber that Anya had placed utilizing it as a secure outbound route.
He started assembling a data packet. Than using technical data he extracted an artifact from his own reclaimed archives—a damaged altered image he had been analyzing on the Surface. It depicted a digitized photo of a world before the apocalypse: a lively disorderly stretch of green woodland, under a clear deep blue sky.
He labeled the image file using Anya's Archivist 734 identifier—a discreet harmless digital mark.
He subsequently appended a text entry camouflaging it as a technical remark regarding the effectiveness of her repair making certain it would be visible solely to her, during her upcoming system inspection.
// TECHNICAL LOG [35-D]: HARMONIC-BUFFER EFFICIENCY ANALYSIS
// Unit: Elias (48-D)
// Source: Legacy Fiber 734-X (High-Tolerance)
// Condition: Optimal. Resonance suppressed.
// NOTE, TO ARCHIVIST: [Attached Visual Data]. Recorded anomaly (Truth) is not harmful. It is essential. Beyond the gold there exist worlds. Do not fear the disorder you set in motion.
// LOG END
The message was rash and desperate. It revealed his identity, as the Umbra Seeker admitted her betrayal and extended to her not a way out but a common viewpoint: that the truth merited the danger. He had granted her a fragment of the world she desired—the genuine beauty that the Astra had concealed.
He pressed SEND. The encrypted and stored data packet sailed quietly across the Astra network a message, in a bottle cast into the dangerous waters of the Dome.
Kael gave one glance around the Sub-Archival Level. He possessed the schematics. He had declined the countermeasure.. He had formed a dangerous covert pact, with the adversary.
He took out his Umbra-made lock and secured the junction box removing any physical evidence of his activity. His way out was the route he had arranged: Waste Conduit 11-Gamma, a tight unpleasant passage that went straight to the least supervised part of the Perimeter Wall. It promised to be rough, taxing and more uncontrolled than his entry but it avoided any risk, from compliance drones.
He fastened his pack, the mass of the data chip—the element, for Umbras survival—pressing heavily against his back. He slipped the charm back into his pocket. It seemed warmer this time not an artifact anymore but a symbol of the collective unimaginable decision he had recently taken.
He had come to the Astra Dome to steal data and incite chaos. He was leaving with a secret ally and the overwhelming certainty that his war was no longer against the Astra, but against the very nature of their divided world. He lowered himself into the dark, damp hole of the waste conduit, the cold, stale air rushing past him, knowing he would be back. He had to be. He had left a trail for the Archivist to follow.