Page 104 of Fractured Loyalties
Not in sound or movement. But in weight. There’s a pressure in the air now, like I’ve crossed an invisible wire and something on the other end just started listening.
I drive.
Not fast. Not erratic. Just steady. South through the curve of the industrial ring, past shuttered shops and burned-out cars with their windows blown hollow. Marseille’s skin is thicker down here. Less curious. More honest. The kind of place where secrets aren’t buried—they’re mounted on walls like trophies.
I pull up beside a loading dock two levels beneath a shuttered textile plant. Lydia flagged it years ago as a fallback vault. Never used it.
Until now.
The garage door groans open when I hit the encrypted signal. Dust billows out like breath from a grave. I guide the car inside and kill the lights.
There’s no comfort here. Just cold concrete and silence and the whisper of old tech coming alive. Motion sensors flicker on. A map blinks to life across the far wall—city grid, heat pulses, traffic overlays.
I stand in front of it, still.
Toma Virelli’s face is a ghost in the margin. Not recent. Not direct. But his movement these last few days aligns too closely with Vale’s old habit trails.
I trace the connection points.
Each one cuts closer to Mara.
That’s not a coincidence.
That’s orchestration.
They’re building something. Not just a trap. A fucking story. One where I don’t come back.
I lean over the workbench and drag open an old weapons drawer. The grips are cold. Familiar. I check each one, reset the chamber counts, reload. Every motion is a ritual I used toperform without thought. Now it feels heavier. Not because I’ve forgotten.
Because I remember too well.
The last time I loaded up like this, I didn’t have anyone waiting.
Now I have her.
Mara.
The way her body curled into mine this morning, soft and wordless.
The way she didn’t stop me from going.
She trusts me to come back.
That kind of trust doesn’t come twice.
I fit the last sidearm into the holster at my spine. Secure. Invisible.
The terminal blinks. New data pinged from Lydia.
It’s not about Vale.
It’s Mara.
Someone tried to log into her clinic access portal at 9:34 AM. Failed attempt. Then another. Location ping came from the northeast grid—not close, but not far.
She’s still inside the house.
But the world is knocking.
