Inside: a nanite ampoule.
Labeled:Trial Batch—Verified Lethal.
The seal date matches the start of the vaccine distribution initiative. Meaning…
They’ve been prepping this foryears.
I snap a holopic. Then another. Every angle. Every label. My breath fogs the inside of my mask. I move to the next cabinet.
And that’s when I see it.
A flat folder tucked under something labeled “Historical Correspondence.” It’s a hardcopy. Actual paper. A luxury few use anymore.
I slide it out.
Inside: a single letter. Printed. Signed in ink.
My stomach flips.
It’s addressed to a field agent by code. The date—two years ago.
The order: “Neutralize Fratvoyan Ambassador Narek Lehn. Maintain plausible deniability. Should be made to appear accidental—preferably cultural misstep.”
The signature?
Dennis Montana.
I stare at it until my vision swims.
Because this isn’t just some backdoor virus op. This isn’t even just ethnic cleansing under the guise of progress.
This is assassination. Diplomats. Cover-ups. Entire species targeted under a flag of Earth unity.
Earth Firstisn’t a movement.
It’s a regime.
And it’s already in power.
I shove the documents into my satchel. My breath comes faster now, but I force my limbs to stay steady.
I’ve got what I came for.
Now I just have to get out alive.
I almost make it out clean.
The data’s secured. My heart’s a war drum. My hands still tremble from snapping the holopics—pages of damning evidence, redacted lines exposed to light for the first time, and that vial. That fucking vial.
Verified Lethal.
The phrase echoes in my skull like a bell tolling for the dead. But I keep moving. Past the bookshelves. Past the biometric scanner I fried. Almost to the servant’s passage Dennis forgot existed. One more corridor and I’ll vanish into the pond tunnels?—
“Kristi?”
My blood goes cold.
That voice.
