I lean closer to Morazin so the camera catches my face clearly, so the world sees exactly who I’m speaking to.
“Morazin,” I say, voice low and sharp, “finish your testimony.”
Morazin’s lips part. “Immunity.”
I feel something in me go cold.
“No,” I say.
His eyes flick wildly. “Then I don’t?—”
I cut him off. “You don’t get to hold the truth hostage anymore.”
He laughs wetly, pain making it ugly. “You can’t force me.”
I glance at his monitor feed—heart rate elevated, blood oxygen stable for now, stress markers spiking.
Then I bring up the biometric trigger interface on my compad.
A simple screen. A single toggle.
PUBLIC-RELEASE TRIGGER: ARMED
CONDITION: WITNESS BIOMETRIC FAILURE OR TAMPERING DETECTED
EVIDENCE DUMP: GLOBAL
I angle it so the camera can catch the general shape of what I’m holding without reading the exact code. Just enough for the world to understand: there’s a detonator, and my finger is on it.
Morazin’s eyes widen.
“You wouldn’t,” he whispers.
I meet his gaze with no warmth at all.
“Oh, I absolutely would,” I say. “If you die, the evidence releases anyway. The world burns anyway. The only thing you control is whether you’re alive when it happens.”
Morazin stares at me like I’ve finally spoken his language.
Bargaining.
Leverage.
Mutual assured destruction.
His breathing stutters. “They’ll kill me if I name?—”
“They’re already trying,” I snap, gesturing at his blood. “What’s your plan? Die quietly later? At least die loud.”
Lonari’s voice drops in beside me, calm as a grave. “Speak.”
Morazin flinches at that—at the absolute certainty in Lonari’s tone, like this room belongs to him more than it belongs to governments.
The moderator swallows, voice trembling. “Mr. Valeer… for the record… you have stated the existence of ‘High Lantern.’ Are you prepared to identify the individual or office responsible?”
Morazin laughs once, cracked. “Office. Always an office.”
Jordan, my brain screams. Stay on timeline. Keep him on the hook.
