The warehouse was eerily quiet after the raid. Empty shelves gaped like wounds, and the workers moved in hushed tones, fear hanging over them like smoke.
Rafael stood at the center table, scanning the Codex's projections. The words were cold, clinical, but they carried a spark of hope:
"Probability of insider whistleblower contact: 37%. Trigger event: HydraCorp overreach."
He didn't have to wait long.
Two nights later, a message pinged his encrypted inbox. No name, just an attachment and a single line:
"They planted it. Don't trust the evidence."
The file contained scanned memos from HydraCorp's compliance department—orders to subcontract a shadow firm to "seed incriminating materials" in AquaPure's supply chain. One memo even mentioned Rafael by name.
Maria leaned over his shoulder, whispering. "Boss… if this is real…"
Rafael's eyes narrowed. "Then we're not fighting shadows anymore. We have their fingerprints."
The Codex pulsed:
"Recommendation: Validate source credibility. Avoid premature release. Probability of HydraCorp discrediting anonymous leaks: 79%. Suggested: Secure live testimony."
The next day, Rafael arranged a quiet meeting in a dingy café near Cubao. A man in his forties arrived—thin, exhausted, eyes darting nervously. He introduced himself only as "Arman."
"I worked in one of HydraCorp's auditing teams," he whispered. "We were ordered to create the fake bank statements. I couldn't stomach it anymore. They'll come for me if they know I talked to you."
Rafael studied him carefully. The Codex flickered across his vision: "Lie probability: 8%. Stress from fear, not deception."
He slid a glass of water across the table. "Then let's make sure your risk means something. Will you testify—on record?"
Arman hesitated, trembling. "If you can protect me… I'll talk."
That night, Rafael activated every contact he had left—NGO allies, sympathetic reporters, even a reformist senator who had quietly cheered AquaPure's rise. With their help, they secured a protective arrangement for Arman.
Three days later, Arman appeared on a livestream with independent journalists, voice shaking but words clear:
"HydraCorp ordered us to frame AquaPure. I was part of it. Here are the memos, the fake statements, the signatures."
The story exploded. Hashtags #HydraLeak and #AquaPureTruth trended nationwide. Supporters flooded back, louder than before. Protesters gathered not outside Rafael's warehouse, but outside HydraCorp's Makati tower, chanting, "Expose the liars!"
HydraCorp scrambled, dismissing Arman as "a disgruntled former employee," but the damage was done. Even international watchdogs began sniffing around, curious about the allegations.
The Codex hummed:
"Public credibility restored. HydraCorp destabilized. Probability of regulatory investigation: 63% and rising."
Rafael leaned back in his chair, exhaustion and triumph mingling. "They tried to bury us with lies," he muttered. "But truth has a way of clawing out."
Yet he knew HydraCorp wasn't finished. If anything, they were cornered—and cornered predators struck hardest.