His eyes flick toward the ceiling as if it has ears. “The Nine.”
My jaw tightens. “Why you?”
He laughs, brittle. “Because I look like him enough with the right work. Because I can mimic his cadence. Because I used to perform—stage work, holo—whatever. Because I have no family left they could threaten except?—”
He swallows hard, and his eyes glisten with something that looks like shame.
“Except civilians,” he whispers. “Kaijen neighborhoods. Dockworkers. Kids. They showed me lists. Addresses. They told me if I didn’t sit in this chair and smile… they’d make examples.”
Fyr’s voice comes out hoarse. “You’re saying you’re being forced.”
The impostor nods, trembling. “They keep me compliant.”
“How,” I ask, voice low.
He lifts a shaking hand and taps two fingers to his neck, just under the jawline.
“Biometric detonators,” he whispers. “Tiny. Implanted. If I go off-script, they trigger. Not just me—others. They have… codes. Blackmail too. And they promised mass reprisals if I ever tried to warn anyone.”
My stomach turns.
“Why tell me now?” I ask.
His laugh is wet. “Because you’re not like the others.”
I stare at him. “Meaning?”
“Meaning you came back from Yatori,” he says, voice breaking. “Meaning you don’t scare easy. Meaning you look at ledgers like they’re murder weapons. Meaning… they can’t control you the way they control everyone else.”
He looks at the death certificate again, then whispers, “I didn’t think anyone would find that.”
I straighten slowly, letting the rage inside me settle into shape.
“Jordan,” Fyr says quietly behind me, like he can’t help himself.
I turn my head slightly. “Don’t.”
Fyr swallows. “They wanted her surrendered because?—”
“Because she’s proof,” I finish.
The impostor nods. “They want the narrative. They want the war. They want the Kaijen house—this house—quiet, compliant, profitable.”
I stare at him, then lean forward again.
“Listen to me,” I say, voice deadly calm. “You’re going to stay in this room. You’re going to say nothing. You’re going to keep playing the role until I’m ready to pull the curtain.”
His eyes widen, terrified. “They’ll know?—”
“They already know I’m moving,” I say. “Now they’re going to learn what that means.”
When I exitKel’s chambers, the split is already happening.
You can feel it in the air—like Gur’s wind changed direction and everyone’s instincts noticed at once.
A captain in the hallway—Captain Vesh—doesn’t meet my eyes. He murmurs into his comm and I catch the words as he turns away.
“Pull the crew off shift. Quiet.”
