The Silent Pact

Chapter 2: Beneath the Tower's Shadow

The walk back to his apartment felt heavier than usual. Marlen's thoughts were a tangle of fear, doubt, and a strange excitement he couldn't name. Lyra's words echoed in his mind, their weight sinking deeper with each step.

“The King isn’t protecting us. He’s erasing us, piece by piece.”

Marlen had never thought of himself as brave. His existence was quiet and carefully maintained, every move calculated to avoid attention. Yet tonight, for reasons he couldn’t explain, he had followed a stranger into the heart of a conspiracy.

By the time he reached the narrow staircase leading to his unit, his hands were trembling. The sound of his boots on the metal steps seemed deafening in the silence of the curfew hour.

He unlocked the door and stepped inside. The apartment was as small and utilitarian as the rest of Domingrad—bare walls, a single table and chair, and a bed tucked into the corner. A faint hum of machinery vibrated through the floor, the heartbeat of the city’s endless power grid.

Marlen sat at the edge of his bed, staring at the floor. He should feel relief at being home, safe and out of sight. Instead, the silence pressed down on him, suffocating.

The Archive's Whispers

Sleep didn’t come easily. When it did, it brought no peace.

In his dreams, the field stretched out before him again—endless, golden, alive. The woman stood beside him, her green eyes fixed on the horizon. This time, her voice was clear.

“Wake up,” she said.

The field dissolved, replaced by the cold, lifeless streets of Domingrad. Marlen stood alone beneath the shadow of the Tower. Its dark spire loomed above him, impossibly tall, its surface rippling like water.

From somewhere deep within, a low hum began to rise—a sound that felt alive, searching. The hum grew louder, closer, until it filled his ears and drove him to his knees.

“Wake up,” the voice repeated, louder now, urgent.

Marlen woke with a start, his breath ragged. For a moment, he couldn’t tell where he was. The dream clung to him, its vividness blurring the line between reality and imagination.

But one thing was clear: the hum wasn’t just in his dream.

It came from the wall near his bed—a faint vibration, rhythmic and deliberate. He froze, his heart pounding.

They’re watching me.

He had heard stories of hidden surveillance, of listening devices planted in homes to monitor thoughts and whispers. The Bureau denied it, of course, but Marlen had worked there long enough to know the truth didn’t matter.

He pressed his ear to the wall, trying to discern the source of the sound. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there—a mechanical pulse, steady and unyielding.

A Risky Decision

The next morning, Marlen couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. At the Bureau, every glance felt heavier, every word more dangerous.

Relgar passed his cubicle twice, his sharp eyes lingering on Marlen longer than usual.

“Something on your mind?” Relgar asked, his voice laced with suspicion.

“No, sir,” Marlen replied quickly, keeping his gaze on his monitor.

“Good. We wouldn’t want any... distractions,” Relgar said, his tone colder than before.