Avery’s world was fabric and darkness.

  Rough material scratched his face every time the car took a turn or hit a bump. His wrists were bound. It was not painfully tight. He tried to breathe slowly to calm himself.

  Focus. Focus. Relax. Focus.

  But it was impossible. Not with the muffled hum of the vehicle stopping. Not with the spike of dread that crawled up his spine when someone grabbed his arm and yanked him out of the vehicle.

  Cold night air hit him like a slap.

  The ground beneath changed from pavement to dirt to concrete. The scent of sawdust and rust went through the hood. Wherever they were, it wasn’t a SCAR facility. It felt like a construction site.

  Avery swallowed. The warehouse. It has to be.

  He was dragged forward, held tightly by two bodies. He heard a faint wheeze.

  Someone was breathing as if in pain.

  A hand shoved him to his knees.

  The hood ripped off.

  Dim light. Dust entered his nose. He blinked hard until the shapes stopped blurring.

  He wished they hadn’t.

  Roger was strapped to a metal chair. The straps binding him weren’t even straps. They were glowing, plasma-thread restraints, pulsing like they were alive. His arms were pinned behind him; his ankles fused to the chair legs. His head hung forward, sweat dripping off his chin.

  “Finally awake,” Ridley said enthusiastically.

  Avery’s stomach twisted. Ridley stood in the center of the unfinished warehouse floor like it was his personal stage. Behind him, SCAR units stood motionless, masks reflecting the dim light.

  Ridley gestured to Avery with a casual flick of his hand.

  “You know… I didn’t want to do this tonight. I was planning on easing into it. Warm up with some questions. Maybe some light persuasion.” He stepped closer to Roger. “But your little sprint through the building earlier? That changed my timeline.”

  Avery forced himself not to flinch. His heartbeat felt too loud.

  “It wasn’t—”

  He stopped.

  Ridley looked at him. “You know what I love about you, kid?” he said. “You’re terrible at lying.”

  Avery’s throat dried.

  Ridley continued pacing slowly. “You don’t sound genuine. Your voice rises in desperation.”

  Avery didn’t say anything.

  Ridley straightened. “So here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to ask Roger a few questions.” He tapped the plasma restraints. They sparked. “And every time he lies or stalls or pretends something. We’ll tighten these.” Ridley smiled. “Until they cut his wrists.”

  Roger groaned weakly, his eyes fluttering open.

  “A—Avery…?” he rasped.

  Ridley stepped into Avery’s line of sight again.

  “But here’s the good news,” he said brightly. “You get to watch. And if you’re feeling brave…” he shrugged. “You can tell me everything first. Save him the trouble.

  Avery’s heart thudded out of his chest.

  Ridley cracked his knuckles, turning back to Roger with a casual, almost cheerful, “So, Roger… let’s begin.” Ridley spoke with a smile. “First things first, congratulations, Roger. You got a job in sales and were promoted within a few months, selling the most cars the prior month while being a novice. You are the heart and soul of Ionia. People like you help our economy run. You should be honored and grateful for that feat. Do you feel honored?”

  “I—feel good about it.”

  “And you should.” Ridley raised his voice, filled with praise. “You should feel great. That honor shows dedication. Perseverance. Integrity. All the traits needed to contribute positively. Ionia is lucky to have you.”

  “I don’t feel lucky.”

  Ridley scoffed and turned to Avery. “He doesn’t feel lucky. Why is that, Avery?”

  Standing, Avery shook his head. “Ridley, let’s just go home. This isn’t worth it.”

  He wagged his finger. “No, no. This is worth it. We are speaking with someone who is an example of a well-established vehicle brand. He’s a wonderful salesman. But, praising isn’t why we are here.” He turned to the defenseless Roger, pointing at him. “I want to know the truth.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Avery slapped the slides of his body in an annoyed manner. “Truth about what?”

  “Do I have to spell it out for you? I want to know where this man came from. His origin.”

  “I was born and raised in the city,” Roger said with no hesitation or fear.

  “Ah, sure. I don’t buy it. I have a gut feeling you aren’t who you say you are.”

  “How do you want him to prove that?” Avery asked.

  Ridley raised his brows. “Roger, help me understand. Your other friends have been interrogated. I asked about your past and, well, they went silent. They mentioned you didn’t speak of your past. I want to know your past.”

  Roger shook his head. “I don’t need to speak.”

  Ridley scoffed again. This time, more aggressively. “Listen, you’re not getting a lawyer or anything. If you don’t start talking, I will have no choice but to tighten the restraints. I’ll keep tightening them until they pierce through your skin. Then slowly to your ligaments, where the pain will be so unbearable that you will have no other choice but to speak. But, considering you a big guy, I assume you have a—how do I put this—better pain tolerance? Thicker layer and all. Yeah, I’ll go with that. The plasma will hit your bones and cut through them like butter. Within… the next thirty minutes you will have to live the rest of your life handless. That is, if I don’t decide to put a bullet in your head afterwards.” He turned back to Avery. “I’ll do all that with your buddy being a witness. Feel free to jump in, Avery. You can say the truth on his behalf.”

  Avery stared at the restraints on Roger’s wrist. The faintly gleaming metal could chop his wrist off. He felt Ridley’s gaze linger. Avery looked at his hands. The same hands that shot his half–brother. The same hands that killed the King of the Outside world. The hands Archon plagued with death. Ridley was no different. He was a gentle soul with a hidden monster. A terrible monster. A tainted side of a clear coin.

  “Roger is a good salesman,” Avery said, his voice flat. “He sells cars. That’s his life. That’s his truth.”

  Ridley’s smiles didn’t falter. He slowly walked over to Avery. “A good salesman who isn’t who he says he is. A salesman that you met alone with. I have the records. I know you know this man. It’s clear as day! So why lie?” Ridley pulled his phone and pressed a button.

  Roger gasped and winced. The muscles in his arms jumped.

  Ridley continued. “This tightens the restraints.”

  “Stop it, Ridley!” Avery’s voice was sharper. “This is ridiculous. Hurting an innocent man without any evidence to back up your claim.”

  “Evidence?” That word amused Ridley. “I am above evidence. Speculation is all I need. I will go through loops to squeeze the truth out.”

  Avery shook his head. “The truth doesn’t need your methods. Roger’s life isn’t a puzzle for you to solve with threats.”

  “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong. People hide in plain sight. They pretend. And the truth—oh, the truth has a funny way of crawling out, no matter how much you try to bury it. So tell me, Roger… who are you really?”

  Roger’s silence stretched. Avery’s fists clenched, his mind racing.

  And then, quietly, almost under his breath, Roger spoke. “I… am an honest salesman.”

  Ridley’s smile widened, almost cruelly. “Seriously? Did you not hear a fucking word from my mouth?”

  Avery’s heart pounded. He didn’t know what Roger would say.

  Roger’s voice grew steadier. “I used to live in a remote area. A small town north of the city. Way north. That remote town is enclosed near the sea. Lulu. You might’ve heard of that smaller town. I came from there.”

  Ridley opened his mouth in surprise. “Lulu?! Ah—seriously?!”

  Lulu was a remote town with 1,500 people near a fishing port. Residents of Lulu were considered part of the villages and weren’t allowed to live in Ionia or any Ionian-governed city. They were their own thing that happened to be within the walls. Residents of those villages were labeled as inferior to Ionian blood. However, they were treated better than outsiders. At least the villages occasionally received support for harsh winters, such as food.

  This was a clever tactic by Roger. He knew that he couldn’t pass an Ionian any longer and would be pressured further. So admitting that he came from the village was the only realistic alternative. Villagers also didn’t have any identification, since they weren’t advanced, but they weren’t like outsiders either, who had no technical advancements.

  The crime for a villager entering and living among the Ionians wasn’t cruel. At most, SCAR would exile and return you to your respective village. However, given how Ridley spoke and acted, the punishment was most likely going to be something barbaric.

  “How did you get through SCAR? We have plenty of border security.” He leaned into Roger’s head. “Tell me, how did you get past us?”

  Roger’s leg shook rapidly, almost as though it was bouncing. “I got lucky.”

  Ridley scoffed. “Lucky?” He turned to Avery. “He said he got lucky. Ridiculous. Any thoughts, Avery?”

  “None.”

  “Did you have that reply in the chamber?”

  Confused, Avery broke into a dry chuckle. “What?”

  “Nothing,” Ridley said. He paced around, scratching the bridge of his nose. He turned back to Avery with a smile. “Did you know he was a villager?”

  “No.”

  “Then why go through the loops to protect him? If he’s a normal citizen, then it shouldn’t worry you to come to me to request his release.”

  He had a good point. There was no reason for Avery to go behind Ridley’s back. He could’ve gone to him in the first place. However, Avery didn’t think of that. He was so concerned about this being traced back to Tim that he never considered trying the direct approach.

  In the end, all Avery could say was the truth.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Really, kid?”

  Avery held his head low. “I’m really sorry. I—I should’ve come to you. I thought that—-I don’t know. I messed up.”

  “Kid,” Ridley said calmly. “It’s ok. Don’t worry about it.” He whistled, signaling the SCAR unit to walkover. Ridley rolled up his sleeves and rolled his shoulders back a few times. “Take him to the other room with Unit 8. Make sure he doesn’t escape. Come back afterwards. I’ll need your help,” he grinned.

  “Wait. Ridley. Don’t. No! Let go of me!”

  The SCAR unit grabbed Avery by the arm and dragged him on the ground. Avery tried to fight back, pulling away as hard as he could. The SCAR unit’s grip was too tight. There was no escaping it. It was like being imprisoned, unable to escape the cell.

  Avery kicked and yelled. He called Ridley’s name. He called him names. He did everything he could for Ridley to change his mind.

  Ridley adjusted a small chain around his neck. He rubbed a section towards the nape and smiled as though he knew something no one else did.

  Ridley never looked back.

  He never looked Avery in the eyes as he was being dragged away.

  His attention was focused on Roger and what he was going to do to him.

  Avery knew what was coming next, but all he could do was hope that backup arrived.

  And it wasn’t so long until they did.