The lantern's glow cast long, dancing shadows across the stone walls of the cell. Rico, Voss's former second-in-command, sat on the hard-packed floor, his story a steady, grim stream of tactical data. Draven stood just outside the bars, his mind a cold, analytical engine, absorbing every detail: supply routes through hidden gorges, patrol shifts that left the eastern flank exposed at twilight, and the growing resentment among the beast tamers.
Kara paced softly behind him, a silent, watchful presence, while Jaxon leaned against the opposite wall, his massive arms crossed, his expression a mask of skepticism.
"Voss's command tent has a rear flap," Rico rasped, his voice raw. "He uses it when his rages get bad. It's unguarded then. If you hit him there, you cut the head off the snake."
The information aligned perfectly with the Silent Defector Protocol's projections. Rico's loyalty node was stabilizing at a ninety-four percent probability. He was the first crack in Voss's fortress, a fracture that Draven intended to widen into a chasm.
Kara stepped forward, offering Rico a waterskin through the bars. Her approach was different from Draven's—less about data, more about human connection. "And the tamers?" she asked, her voice calm and steady. "How many would turn if we gave them a reason?"
Rico took the water gratefully. "Half of them, at least," he admitted. "They're losing beasts faster than Voss can replace them, and they take the blame. Promise them the same mercy you showed my scouts, and they'll listen."
Jaxon grunted. "Sounds too easy. What's the catch?"
Rico's laugh was a short, bitter bark. "The catch is that Voss is a monster. He'll hunt me to the ends of the realms if he finds out I'm here. But you… you offer a chance at something other than a shallow grave."
The weight of the offer settled in the cool, underground air. Draven made a decision. "Rest," he said, his voice leaving no room for argument. "We'll verify your intel at first light."
They left Rico in the cell, the summons standing a silent, watchful guard. Back in the courtyard, the night was cool and quiet. They gathered around the fire, a silent debrief in the flickering light.
"He's spilling everything," Jaxon said, finally breaking the silence. "You think it's solid?"
"The Protocol projects a high probability of truth," Draven replied, his arm slipping around Kara's shoulders as she settled beside him. "But we don't rely on projections alone. We test. We verify."
The next morning, Rico was brought from the cell into the courtyard. He was not a prisoner, but he was under quarantine, the entire keep his gilded cage. He blinked in the bright sun, his eyes darting toward the summons. Grayfang watched him with an unblinking, silver-eyed stare. The Rune-Hound sniffed the air around him, its rune-mark pulsing faintly. The Thornling, with a child-like curiosity, tumbled over his boot, its spines retracted.
The test began. While Kara ran the summons through their predictive combat drills, Draven had Jaxon put Rico to work on the northern wall. It was a simple, pragmatic evaluation. Was he willing to contribute? Was his knowledge practical?
"Voss uses shoddy bracing on his palisades," Rico grunted, pointing out a weakness in their own gate that Jaxon had overlooked. "A single, well-placed charge could bring this whole section down. Use a cross-brace here."
Jaxon, after a moment of surprise, gave a slow nod of respect. The defector knew his business.
The midday meal was another test. They ate together in the courtyard, a loose, wary circle. Rico shared a story, not of his old life, but of Voss's camp—of the fear, the paranoia, the way the warlord's rages would leave the entire camp walking on eggshells for days. It was a stark contrast to the easy camaraderie of their own team, the way Kara and Jaxon traded stories of Seattle rain and Mumbai monsoons.
As they ate, the Thornling, emboldened, hopped into Rico's lap. The man froze for a second, then hesitantly offered the creature a crumb of bread. The Thornling chirped and began to nibble. The Silent Defector Protocol pinged in Draven's mind. [Loyalty Node Integrated: 98%].
The afternoon was a blur of integration. Rico's intel was woven into their own strategies. He provided key insights for the Shadow Veil Network, a new protocol that allowed Draven to mask their movements and create phantom signals to confuse Voss's patrols.
As the sun began to set, the keep felt different. Stronger. More complete. Rico was no longer an unknown variable. He was a proven asset, his knowledge a key that could unlock the downfall of their greatest enemy.
That evening, the fire burned bright, a symbol of their growing strength. Jaxon officially moved Rico from the cell to a guest pallet in the main chamber. The circle around the fire was larger now, the laughter a little louder. Kara leaned against Draven, her hand in his, a quiet, solid presence. This was what he was building. Not just a fortress. Not just an army. A community. A future.
[Milestone Achieved: Veil Ally Integration Activated]
[Unlock: Phantom Cascade Protocol – Allows the creation of large-scale phantom troop movements to misdirect enemy forces.]
Draven watched the flames dance, his mind already weaving these new threads into his grand design. The war was far from over. But he had just acquired a powerful new weapon.