Prosecutor Aria Dawson: case transcripts, witness depositions, media footage highlighting my sola fide approach; my ruthless prosecution; the disbarment threats after the Nar'Vosk operation. It even details my messy fallout with the Ministry, source citations fine as cobwebs.
Below that, entries map my ascent in the Centauri Sect. Photographic proof of me beside Aebon on stage, the gala—every whispered moment recorded. Photos of us in the penthouse, lined arm-in-arm. My family back on Earth: childhood photos, address, career, relatives.
Ink watches me, arms folded. The holo-pad reflects in her eyes.
"We could ruin you," she says, voice soft but lethal. The word rustles like death.
But then her tone shifts: "We’d rather… promote you."
My breath hits cold. She leans forward. "But there’s a catch."
She taps the dossier; it flips to a specific folder. I lean in. On-screen: a profile—Ellex, my personal recruit. Aebon's lieutenant, once a Nar'Vosk informant I managed to convert. Loyal, fierce, unflinching under fire, but still human enough to respond to my counsel. Ellex believes in me. I see his face as he walked into the Sanctum with hope in his eyes.
Ink’s voice: "Your mission is simple—betray him. Prove your allegiance to the Nine by handing over his secrets, his weaknesses. Or refuse—and we reveal your past, expose your ties, and watch your empire crumble."
There's only one dossier, one mission. Two paths—and both break me in different ways.
"Why him?" I ask, voice controlled but brittle. She must see the fracture in my calm.
"Anyone could defy you," she says, leaning back, cigarette vapor curling beside her. "But betrayingyour own—that proves loyalty. Not just practicality."
The holo-light flickers. My heart feels like hollow stone tipped downward.
I swallow.
Ellex’s face swims before me—his trusting nod when I took his hand and promised a seat at the renewal, his unwavering support. He stands behind me on missions, shields me in test. He’s not just a lieutenant—he is a reflection of what I’ve remade in the Sect: someone saved, someone with hope.
Ink taps her fingers. "Your answer."
I close the dossier. The paper rustles. Every shred of my past and future balanced on a decision.
"I need assurances," I say. "That Ellex won’t be killed. That they’ll enter protective status under Nine oversight."
She smiles—warmly. "We'll relocate his assignment. He won't be harmed—under Nine penalty. You prove loyalty, divide Devotion... and he returns more powerful. But if you refuse..."
Cold returns. I nod.
I stand up. "I'll do it."
Ink smiles, rising too. "Consider it the start of your passage."
I leave with the dossier clutched, weight heavy against my heart. Already, my mind fractures into strategy.
Back in my quarters, I stare at the ceiling. Aebon, waiting below in the penthouse, trusts me with the empire. He trusts me with himself.
But now his man stands in my crosshairs.
I touch my fingers to the dossier. My breath catches: loyalty to Nine—against loyalty to my own heart.
Alone, I whisper: "God help me."
I cross the threshold of our inner sanctum before Aebon can speak—and already I can taste the tension in his voice echoing off the basalt walls. I’ve barely set down the dossier from Madame Ink when he hisses, “We don’t sacrifice our own.” The violet flames flicker, throwing jagged shadows across his bone-spurred silhouette.
I inhale slowly, head held high. “Then we don’t.” My tone is measured—cool and deliberate. “But the Nine issued an ultimatum. They want proof of loyalty.” My fingertips brush the dossier’s edge. “They need to know we’ll comply.”
Aebon’s jaw tightens. His eyes, those crimson embers, flare. “And you—what are you thinking?”
My hand drifts over the dossier. This is the moment I’ve been preparing for. “We give them someone already planning betrayal.” My voice is fluent with conviction.
