The silence in the room was heavy as Kael processed what he was seeing. Saphira, his instructor, the First Conduit of Azure Tower, was standing in a secret meeting with what was clearly a resistance group. The cognitive dissonance made his head spin.
"I know you have questions," Morgan said, her voice calm and measured. "And we'll answer them. But first, I need to know if you're here because you want to be, or because Damian pressured you."
Kael looked at Damian, who shrugged. "I told him there was someone he should meet. That's all. His choice to come down here was his own."
"Then I'm here by choice," Kael said, finding his voice. "Though I'm still not sure what here is."
"Here is the beginning of something that should have started decades ago," Morgan replied. She moved to the center of the room, and the others gave her space. In the dim Fragment-light, Kael could see the faint scarring on her neck and right shoulder, the kind of marks that came from severe Fragment burns. "We are the Unchained. We are Conduits and former Conduits who have decided that the system is beyond reform. That the Fragment Council must be dismantled entirely."
"You're a resistance movement," Kael said.
"We prefer to think of ourselves as the correction." Morgan smiled without humor. "The Council has ruled for three centuries through fear, manipulation, and calculated cruelty. They hoard Fragment energy while outer districts starve. They conscript Conduits from poor families and throw them into meat grinders while wealthy Conduits receive cushy assignments. They conduct experiments on unwilling subjects and call it research. This is not governance. This is tyranny."
Kael glanced at Saphira again. She met his gaze steadily, neither confirming nor denying anything Morgan said.
"How long?" Kael asked her. "How long have you been part of this?"
"Six years," Saphira said quietly. "Since my sister died. She was in training here at the Tower. Sixteen years old, brilliant, with a rare Fragment ability that let her see the truth of things. She discovered evidence of illegal experiments, students being used as test subjects without their knowledge. When she tried to report it to Master Aldric, she died three days later. Training accident, they called it. Her body was burned beyond recognition."
The pain in Saphira's voice was raw despite the years that had passed. Kael remembered her protective behavior toward him, the way she had warned him about showing too much power, her careful guidance through his time manipulation training. It made sense now. She had been trying to keep him alive in a system that casually destroyed people.
"I'm sorry," Kael said, inadequate but genuine.
"Don't be sorry. Be angry." Morgan's voice cut through the moment. "Because your mother's death was not an accident either, Kael. Did you think it was coincidence that she and dozens of others in the Rust Quarter all contracted the same wasting illness at the same time?"
Kael's breath caught. "What are you talking about?"
"We have sources inside the Council's research division. Seven years ago, they deliberately contaminated the water supply in three outer districts, including the Rust Quarter. They were testing long-term Fragment exposure effects on unmarked populations. Your mother was an experimental subject, Kael. So were hundreds of others. And the Council documented every stage of their deterioration with clinical precision."
The room spun. Kael felt like the floor had dropped away beneath him. All this time, he had thought his mother's death was just cruel luck, the natural result of poverty and lack of medical care. But it had been deliberate. Calculated. Someone had decided her life was worth less than data points in a research file.
"That's not possible," he managed. "Someone would have noticed. Would have investigated."
"They did investigate," Saphira said. "A Council inspector named Gareth Vane tried to expose it. He disappeared the same week he submitted his preliminary report. No body was ever found."
Kael's legs felt weak. He sank down onto a nearby crate, his mind racing. The anger he had felt at Marcus's death was nothing compared to this. This was not casual cruelty or harsh training methods. This was industrial-scale murder, and the people responsible were the same ones who claimed to protect and guide society.
"Why are you telling me this?" he asked Morgan.
"Because you're a time manipulator. Do you understand how rare that is? In the last three centuries, there have been only four confirmed cases. Aveline is one, though she's essentially lost to the Hollow. You are the first active time manipulator in a hundred years." Morgan crouched in front of Kael, meeting his eyes. "Time manipulation is the one Fragment ability the Council cannot fully counter or control. They fear it. Which means you have potential to be a weapon against them."
"I'm not a weapon."
"No, you're a person. A person with power and, I hope, a reason to use it." Morgan straightened. "We're not asking you to decide tonight. This meeting is just to show you that resistance exists. That you're not alone in seeing the rot at the heart of this system. But eventually, you will have to choose: serve the Council, or help us tear it down."
"And if I choose neither? If I just want to survive my training and go back to the Rust Quarter?"
"Then you'll have signed your own death warrant," said a new voice. Kael turned to see Rhaella step forward from the shadows. The senior Conduit looked different here, less polished and more human. "The Council doesn't let time manipulators just live quiet lives, Kael. They either control you completely, or they eliminate you as a threat. There is no middle ground."
"Rhaella's family sits on the Fragment Council," Morgan explained. "She has access to their private discussions and classified documents. What she's telling you isn't speculation. It's their documented policy."
Kael looked around the room at the assembled faces. These were not radicals or madmen. They were people like him, people who had seen the truth and decided they could not live with it. Damian, whose childhood experiments had left him scarred and unstable. Calista, whose family had died in a covered-up accident. Saphira, whose sister had been murdered for knowing too much. Rhaella, who had grown up in the Council's world and been disgusted by what she saw.
And now him. Kael, who had just learned his mother's death was deliberate murder.
"What happens next?" he asked.
"Next, you continue your training as if this meeting never happened," Morgan said. "You develop your abilities, you maintain your cover, and you wait. We have operations planned, but timing is crucial. The Council is planning something in the outer districts. We're still gathering intelligence, but it's big and it's soon. When we move, we'll need every Conduit we can trust."
"And if I'm discovered? If someone realizes I'm part of this?"
"Then you run, and we extract you if possible." Morgan's expression was grim. "I won't lie to you, Kael. This is dangerous. People die in this fight. But people are already dying under the Council's rule. At least this way, their deaths might mean something."
The meeting broke up shortly after, the members filtering out in small groups to avoid suspicion. Damian left first, giving Kael a nod of solidarity. Rhaella departed with two other students Kael did not know well. Eventually, only Kael, Saphira, and Morgan remained.
"He's young," Morgan said to Saphira, not unkindly. "Are you sure about this?"
"I'm sure he deserves the truth," Saphira replied. "What he does with it is his choice."
"I'm right here," Kael said irritably. "You can talk to me directly."
Morgan smiled slightly. "Fair enough. Kael, I have one more thing to show you before you leave. Something that will help you understand what we're fighting against."
She produced a small Fragment-powered device, like a crystal that projected images into the air. With a gesture, she activated it. Holographic documents appeared, floating in the space between them. Kael saw charts, graphs, photographs. It took him a moment to understand what he was looking at.
"This is from the water contamination study," Morgan explained. "These are your neighbors, Kael. People you knew." She pointed to different images as she spoke. "Old Man Garris, who sold fruit in the market. Died three months after exposure, liver failure. The Hendrix family, all four of them. Parents lasted six months, children lasted eight. Sarah Vane, who ran the textile shop. She was pregnant when they contaminated the water. The baby was stillborn, and Sarah died two weeks later."
The images kept coming, a parade of death and suffering. Kael recognized face after face. People he had seen every day, never suspecting their deaths were connected, never knowing they were all participants in an experiment they had not consented to.
"And here," Morgan said, her voice softer now, "is your mother. Elara Varen, age thirty-six. Marked for observation due to genetic markers suggesting potential Fragment sensitivity. Expected survival time: four to six months. Actual survival time: four months, three weeks. Cause of death: multiple organ failure secondary to Fragment toxicity."
Kael stared at his mother's image, at the clinical notes describing her deterioration in cold, precise language. They had watched her die. Documented every symptom, every stage of decline. And they had done nothing to save her because her death was the whole point.
"Why?" he whispered. "Why would anyone do this?"
"Because the Council is trying to understand how to create Marks artificially," Saphira said. "They believe if they can induce Fragment sensitivity in unmarked populations, they can manufacture Conduits at will. Perfect soldiers, completely loyal because they owe their power to the Council."
"The experiments failed," Morgan added. "Everyone who was exposed either died or showed no change. But that hasn't stopped them. They're trying new approaches, new formulas. More people will die in outer districts while the Council pursues its fantasy of controlled Conduit creation."
Kael felt something break inside him, some last remaining belief that the world operated on principles of fairness or justice. His mother had not just been unlucky. She had been murdered by people who saw her as expendable, as raw material for their experiments. And those same people now controlled his life, his training, his future.
"I'm in," he said. "Whatever you need from me. I'm in."
Morgan deactivated the projection device and studied him carefully. "Don't decide based on emotion, Kael. Anger is a good motivator, but it's a terrible foundation. Go back to your quarters. Think about what you've learned. If you still want to join us tomorrow, find Damian and tell him. He'll pass the message along."
"I won't change my mind."
"Maybe not. But give yourself the chance to be sure." Morgan moved toward the door, then paused. "One more thing. Time manipulation is powerful, but it's not subtle. Every time you use it, there's a signature, a ripple in the Fragment field that sensitive Conduits can detect. Master Aldric is one such Conduit. If you start using your power more aggressively, he will notice. So be careful. We can't afford to lose you before you're fully trained."
After Morgan left, Saphira walked Kael back through the underground passages toward the main Tower levels. They moved in silence for several minutes before Saphira spoke.
"I wanted to tell you sooner," she said quietly. "About your mother, about all of it. But Morgan thought it was too dangerous. That if you knew too much too soon, you'd do something reckless and get yourself killed."
"She might have been right," Kael admitted. "If I'd known a month ago, I probably would have tried to kill someone."
"And now?"
"Now I understand that killing one person won't fix anything. The system is the problem. One instructor, one Council member, even one Fragment distribution center—taking any of those out just creates a temporary disruption. We need something bigger."
Saphira smiled grimly. "Morgan will be glad to hear you thinking strategically. That's what we need. Not martyrs throwing their lives away for vengeance, but people willing to play the long game."
They reached a junction where their paths would diverge, Saphira heading to the instructor quarters and Kael to the student dormitories. Before they parted, Saphira caught his arm.
"Kael, I need you to understand something. What we're doing is treason. If we're caught, they won't just kill us. They'll make examples of us. Public executions, probably. And they'll go after anyone connected to us. Ronan, Martha, anyone you've ever cared about. Are you prepared for that?"
"Are you?" Kael countered.
"I've been prepared for six years. But I've also had six years to make peace with the likely outcome." Saphira's ice-blue eyes were intense. "You're eighteen, Kael. You have your whole life ahead of you. I don't want to be responsible for cutting that short."
"You're not responsible for my choices. I am." Kael gently pulled his arm free. "My mother's last words to me were to survive. For years, I thought that meant just staying alive day to day. But maybe she meant something bigger. Maybe survival means making sure what happened to her doesn't keep happening to others."
"That's a heavy burden to carry."
"So is knowing the truth and doing nothing about it."
Saphira studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Get some sleep, Kael. Tomorrow is sparring day, and Malek is scheduled to return to teaching duties. It's going to be a difficult day for everyone."
Back in his quarters, Kael lay in bed staring at the ceiling once again, but this time his sleeplessness came from a different source. Not helpless anger, but something more focused. Purpose, perhaps. Or determination.
He thought about his mother, about her kindness despite their poverty, her quiet strength in the face of suffering. She had never complained, never blamed anyone, just endured with grace and tried to protect her son from the worst of their circumstances. And all along, she had been dying by design, her suffering carefully calibrated by people who saw her as nothing more than data.
The rage was still there, burning hot in his chest. But it was controlled now, directed. He would channel it into becoming the best Conduit he could be, mastering his time manipulation until he was indispensable to the resistance. And then, when the moment came, he would use that power to tear down the system that had killed his mother and countless others like her.
His Mark pulsed on his palm, warm and steady. For the first time since receiving it, Kael was almost glad to have been chosen. Not because power was desirable in itself, but because it gave him the ability to fight back. The Council had marked him, trained him, given him the tools to resist them. The irony was not lost on him.
Tomorrow he would face Malek in training. He would bow and show respect, would pretend to accept the system's lessons. He would be the obedient student, the promising Conduit who knew his place.
But inside, he would be counting debts. And someday, those debts would be paid in full.