Chapter 12: Valuable Intel
The room was dim, the lights flickering slightly overhead, aging fluorescents fighting to stay alive.
Sym sat on the edge of his cot, dressed in a fresh uniform from HQ, his body bruised, his bones aching, but his mind sharper than ever.
He exhaled slowly, fingertips tapping against his thigh.
“Sage,” he murmured. “Let’s go over it.”
“Beginning analysis.”
A faint screen flickered into view, a simution of the previous battle with Evin, slowed down, with glowing red lines tracing movement paths, strike vectors, and energy surges.
“Evin’s primary advantage came from speed and acceleration. The [Boots of Zephyr] amplify lower-body movement and reflexes by approximately 320% at full activation. However, they do not break causality or reaction time limits.”
“So they’re fast,” Sym said, rubbing his temple, “but not unreadable.”
“Correct. Given sufficient prediction and intervention protocols, I can intercept future attacks. However, if corruption or additional factors persist, threat levels rise accordingly.”
Sym leaned back, staring at the ceiling.
“Additional factors?”
Sage hesitated for half a second.
Then:
“Yes. During analysis, there was a secondary resonance, an amplification signature not native to Evin’s system or internal skillset. The pattern matches an earlier exposure.”
Sym frowned.
“The force at the inner gate?”
“Strong likelihood. It is consistent with the unknown psionic presence that attempted to infiltrate your mind near the sealed Gateway, the red mist. The signature was weaker here, but present, intertwined with Evin’s power output.”
Sym sat up straighter, heartbeat rising.
“So something… outside the System is enhancing him.”
“Correct. Potential source: The Obelisk.”
The room fell silent.
Sym stared at the flickering screen, watching Evin’s boots fre with energy as they moved in near-teleportation bursts.
“That thing. The Obelisk,” Sym said slowly, “isn’t just radiating energy, is it?”
“No. It may be selective. Intentional. It may recognize its Blessed. More knowledge is needed.”
Sym’s fingers curled.
He remembered the pressure at the gate. The whispers. The way it tried to press into his mind, subtle but undeniable.
“If the Obelisk is supporting them inside its influence,” he asked carefully, “what happens if they leave the settlement?”
A long pause.
“Unknown. But I can specute. Their abilities may weaken outside their range. The energy may not be portable. The ‘blessing’ may be territorial, dependent on proximity.”
Sym’s eyes darkened.
“Like a god that can only protect its altar.”
“Or a parasite that must remain near the host.”
That line hung in the air.
Sym stood slowly and walked to the window, staring out into the patchwork sprawl of Zone Nine.
A soft knock echoed through the silence of the room.
Sym turned his head slightly.
Sym moved to the door and unlocked it.
Sure enough, Richie stood on the other side, his shoulder still wrapped in gauze, a nervous look in his eyes, fingers twitching like he wanted to apologize again.
“Hey,” Richie said. “Didn’t mean to bother you. Just wanted to… y’know… say thanks again. For what you did. That guy would’ve gutted me if not for you. I've seen stores around the area be destroyed overnight, with their owners hanging by their necks outside of it.”
Sym shook his head. “Don’t mention it.”
Richie lingered a moment, then perked up.
“Oh. Right. The guy I told you about? With the info? He’s here. I’ll send him up in a minute.”
Sym’s gaze sharpened. “Where is he now?”
“Downstairs. Gotta be careful with people like him. Real twitchy. But sharp as a dagger.”
Sym nodded. “Appreciated. You can send him up.”
Richie hesitated.
“You okay, by the way?” he asked, eyes flicking to Sym’s still-sore posture. “You look like someone worked you over good. Local gang trouble?”
Sym's expression didn’t change. “Don’t worry about it, you have your own injuries to deal with… How are you?”
Richie gave a slow nod. “Right. Got it. And I'm doing much better! Thank you again!”
He left without pressing further, his footsteps fading down the stairwell.
Sym closed the door, leaned against it for a second.
“Sage,” he said. “Get a list of relevant questions ready. Anything from geography to history to Awakened lore.”
“Compiling queries. Ready when required.”
Another knock came a few minutes ter, different this time. Lighter. Slower. Like someone unsure of their welcome.
Sym opened the door.
A man in a tattered brown cloak stood there, hunched slightly.
His skin was pale and dry, lips cracked, eyes sunken but sharp. His bones looked too close to the skin.
But Sym recognized the angle of the shoulders. The rhythm of breath.
“It’s the beggar from earlier,” Sage confirmed.
The man blinked in surprise, then let out a quiet ugh.
“It’s you,” he said. “Huh. Small world.”
Sym didn’t say anything.
The man scratched his neck.
“Honestly… when you gave me that note, I almost robbed you right then. Thought you were soft. Thought you’d be easy.”
He shrugged.
“But I found someone else that day. Easier. And I guess I got lucky, huh?” He looked Sym up and down. “Heard you tore through some thugs. Guess you’re not so soft after all.”
Sym opened the door wider.
“You got a name?”
“Cassius,” he said, stepping inside. “Some people around here call me a rat. I prefer… resourceful.”
Sym motioned to the chair by the wall.
Cassius sat with a groan, adjusting the cloak around his shoulders.
“So,” he said, “what kind of answers are you buying today?”
Sym leaned forward.
“I’ve got a list.”
Cassius grinned, teeth yellowed but sharp.
“One answer’s free. Because of the note. After that, we talk trade.”
Sym nodded.
Fair enough.
Because in this world, even honesty had a price.
Sym leaned forward slightly, elbows on his knees.
“I want to know about the Obelisk,” he said. “And the Order.”
Cassius gave a low chuckle. “Two questions in one? Bold. I’ll let it slide this time.”
He settled back in the chair, tapping a dirty finger against his temple.
“You know, they did a damn good job erasing things. Order made sure of it. Burned scrolls, scrubbed data cores, pulled pages from books, half the people in this settlement don’t even know what the Order really is anymore. To be honest, neither do I, they have changed.”
Sym didn’t blink.
Cassius leaned forward, voice lowering.
“They don’t want the truth out. Because if the people here realized how far they’ve been abandoned, they might stop kneeling.”
Inside Sym’s mind, Sage spoke coldly:
“It is likely by design. Suppressing historical memory ensures dependency. Without records of neglect, these citizens bme themselves for their suffering. Self-bme leads to despair. Despair leads to self-erasure.”
Sym felt the weight of that settle in his chest.
He nodded once. “Efficient cruelty.”
“Exactly,” Cassius said. “Now, about the Obelisk…”
He sat up straighter, almost reverent, but bitter.
“It’s the protector. At least, that’s the lie. The truth? It’s a zone anchor, a system-linked object that creates a ‘safe zone’ within the walls. Nothing from out there crosses into its light. But it doesn’t just protect.”
He smiled grimly.
“It governs. The Obelisk’s will is w, and the Order enforces it. They’re the priests of its pulsing heart. No one disobeys the Order. Not for long. At least that's what a rat like me knows. I'm sure there are more things to it, like its awareness of cruelty and the choice of looking the other way, and in a way fueling this.”
He tapped the table. “Any more questions will cost you 100 notes. So make ’em count.”
Sym nodded without hesitation.
“I’ll ask five.”
Cassius raised an eyebrow, impressed. “Loaded today, huh? Alright. Shoot.”
Sym’s voice was calm, calcuted.
“First, what are the Cracks outside the walls?”
Cassius exhaled.
“No one really knows. They appeared after the Catastrophe, cracks in reality, just… opened. From them came death. Corruption. Beasts that shouldn’t exist. And with it all came… the System.”
He paused.
“And the Awakened.”
Sym’s eyes narrowed slightly. “So they’re linked.”
“Like a cancer and the fever that follows it,” Cassius said.
Sym nodded again. “Next question: the Awakened. Why do they need to be blessed by the Obelisk now?”
Cassius scratched his chin, eyes distant.
“Didn’t use to be that way. In the early days, people awakened naturally. Sometimes randomly, sometimes triggered by trauma. No one really understood it, but it happened; those were the truly awakened. Not Blessed, or Faux. Survivors from the Catastrophe turned into monsters… or gods.”
His voice lowered.
“But after many years of wars against these cracks, the Settlements were formed, and the phenomenon stopped. Inside the Obelisk’s zone, people stopped Awakening on their own. Now, if you want power, you have to kneel. You have to be chosen.”
“Artificial scarcity,” Sym muttered.
Cassius nodded. “Exactly. They turned a spark of evolution into a divine lottery.”
Inside his mind, Sage was already processing.
“Your ability, [Sage’s Assistance], did not originate from the Obelisk or through the experiment. It is likely an Anomalous, what this man refers to as ‘Natural.’”
Sym’s eyes darkened.
“So I’m what they’re trying to erase.”
“Correct.”
Cassius sipped from a dented fsk, then tilted his head.
“You got three questions left. Choose wisely, mystery man.”
Sym tilted his head, studying the ragged man before him.
“For someone who isn’t an Awakened, you sure know a lot about them.”
Cassius grinned, lips cracked, teeth yellowing.
“Who says I’m not?”
Sym blinked, then looked away, just a flicker.
Cassius ughed softly, catching the hesitation.
“Ah. You almost said something, didn’t you? Almost slipped.”
Sym didn’t respond, but inside he cursed himself.
Sage’s voice whispered in his mind.
“Emotional spike detected. You handled it.”
He nodded once. Inwardly.
Cassius leaned back again, cloak rustling.
“I’ve met a few Faux Awakened in my time. Most didn’t st. Most didn’t want to stay. The Order doesn’t give them real chances. Not unless they sign up to be disposable.”
He looked at Sym with an unreadable gaze.
“A lot of them wanted to get out. Outside the walls. See the world. But without a faction? That’s suicide.”
Sym’s tone was calm.
“What about... another way? Something besides the Gateways?”
Cassius paused. Really paused.
Then he scratched his cheek, eyes darting once toward the door.
“There are rumors,” he said slowly. “Underground. Not official. Not safe. Supposedly, there are holes in the wall, tunnels long abandoned, buried from the time before the Order built over the city’s bones.”
“Could they be real?”
Cassius shrugged. “Maybe. But if you’re not Awakened, you’ll die in ‘em. Even if you don’t get mauled, you’ll rot. The corruption out there? It’s not just a spiritual metaphor. It’s a force. A sickness. No one knows its origins.”
“That’s my fifth question,” Sym said. “Tell me about it.”
Cassius gave a dry chuckle.
“I've let some follow-up slip, but I'm in a talkative mood, so... Alright. Out there, past the wall, beyond the light of the Obelisk, there’s something people call the Unseen. A force alleged to leak through the cracks.. Regur folk exposed to it too long... they don’t stay alive. Or sane. If you ask me? I don't have a damn clue, I just know things are changing and we will all die sooner or ter.”
He paused.
Sym sat silently for a moment, eyes distant.
Sym reached into his coat, pulled out five thin stacks of notes, and pced them on the table.
“Five questions,” he said.
Cassius took the money with a nod, folding it carefully.
“If you need more answers,” he said, “just ask Richie to find me. He always knows.”
Sym nodded. “Understood.”
Cassius stood with a soft grunt, cloak falling around his bony form like loose skin.
“Take care, Thirty-Three. You’ve got weight on your shoulders. That’s good. Means you’re walking heavy.”
He left without another word.
The room grew quiet.
Sym sat there, staring at the spot where the man had been. He felt the weight of knowledge settling around him like armor, half-formed, untested, but his.
“Sage,” he said quietly. “Summarize.”
“Obelisk influence confirmed as suppressive and empowering. Natural Awakened phenomena are potentially blocked within the settlement zone. Underground exit paths exist, but corruption exposure is lethal without proper shielding or enhancement. Nature of corruption: specutive. Possibly sentient. Possibly linked to the Obelisk’s power network.”
Sym leaned back against the wall, closing his eyes.
“Good,” he whispered.
Because knowledge was the first weapon.
And soon... he’d start sharpening the rest.
