Act II: War in the Veins
The Veins had grown restless overnight. Shadows pooled in corners where the lights refused to reach, and every metallic groan carried a hidden meaning. I traced the network of conduits beneath me, fingers brushing cold metal, noting which pipes hummed with pressure and which ones threatened to betray a footstep too eager.
Kara was already at the table, eyes flicking over ledgers like a hawk inspecting prey. She didn't know yet, but the numbers I had fed her were a carefully stitched lie. Curated anomalies, subtle enough to look accidental, precise enough to ignite suspicion. She would believe she had uncovered the truth. And she would carry it straight to them.
Drip… hum… distant scuffle…
Her fingers hovered over a ledger page, tracing a line that didn't exist. I leaned back against the wall, letting her glow with pride, letting her think she held the map to chaos. The irony didn't escape me: she believed she was the key to the puzzle when she was merely one of the pieces I'd moved into place.
"Interesting," she murmured, voice low, as if speaking too loudly might awaken the walls.
I didn't respond. Instead, I cataloged her posture, the way her shoulders tensed when she realized an inconsistency she hadn't noticed yet, the subtle lift of her chin that marked triumph. Every micro-reaction was a note in a symphony of control I conducted without anyone knowing.
Click… whisper… distant metallic thud…
From my vantage, I could see the lieutenants pacing nearby, their eyes flicking between the ledgers and Kara's hands. They didn't understand the message hidden in the margins, didn't notice the tiny mis-indexed sum that would set paranoia in motion. They would never until the fallout began, and by then it would be too late.
I traced a finger along a seam in the table, noting the imperfections in the surface. Subtle vulnerabilities. Every scratch and dent a map of what could be exploited. Kara's excitement would be the spark. Carrow's suspicion, the fire. And I? I would be the wind that pushed it all into an inferno.
Soft hum… paper shuffle… faint drip…
She looked up at me, eyes wide, unaware she had been baited. I let her glow a little longer. Let her believe she had uncovered the truth. Let her savor the illusion.
"Enjoy your victory lap," I murmured under my breath, voice dry, amused. "It'll be brief. But entertaining."
And somewhere beneath it all, the Veins pulsed, patient and waiting, ready to turn whispers into chaos.