Dinraal stared through the hole the attacker had left behind.
Smoke drifted through the ruined room.
His ears were still ringing.
But his thoughts were louder.
They knew I was coming.
That possibility refused to leave him alone.
He had spent weeks preparing for this mission. Every movement had been planned. Every possible complication had been considered.
The attackers should not have known he would be here.
Only a handful of people knew the details of his operation.
General Gremory.
The surviving loyalists.
And Dinraal himself.
He turned toward Isolde.
She was brushing dust from her battle regalia.
"What?" she asked.
Dinraal narrowed his eyes.
"Who knew you were coming to this planet?"
Isolde's expression became thoughtful.
"Quite a few people."
"Specific people."
"My father. The command staff. My attendants. The planetary government was informed of my arrival."
Claire stepped closer.
"The route itself was supposed to be secure."
Dinraal looked at her.
"Supposed to be?"
Claire sighed.
"The exact timing of our arrival was restricted."
Dinraal's stomach tightened.
"How restricted?"
Claire hesitated.
"Only the people aboard the jumpship were informed of the final schedule."
Silence.
Isolde slowly turned toward her.
"Claire."
"I know."
Dinraal's expression hardened.
"One of the attendants."
Claire nodded.
"Possibly."
Dinraal thought back to the warning in his HUD.
The attackers had been waiting.
The explosion had occurred almost immediately after Isolde arrived.
Then the attacker had known his name.
And the truth about Bahamut.
This was no coincidence.
"This is a trap," Dinraal said.
Isolde frowned.
"A trap for me?"
"No."
Dinraal looked toward the destroyed wall.
"For us."
The words hung in the air.
Isolde blinked.
Then, despite everything happening around them, a faint smile touched her lips.
"For us?"
Dinraal stared at her.
"That's what you took from that?"
Claire rubbed her forehead.
Another explosion shook the building.
The smile disappeared.
"Right," Isolde said. "Death first. Emotional revelations later."
Dinraal pointed toward the door.
"Exactly."
They moved.
The building had become a maze of smoke and shadows.
Dinraal led the way.
His HUD tracked every available route, constantly updating as explosions destroyed corridors and walls.
Then it flashed.
UNKNOWN SIGNAL DETECTED.
Dinraal stopped.
Claire nearly collided with him.
"What is it?"
He raised a hand.
"Quiet."
Isolde's hand settled on the hilt of her rapier.
A sound came from somewhere ahead.
Not footsteps.
A voice.
"Silver Prince."
Dinraal froze.
The voice echoed through the corridor.
"You're running in the wrong direction."
Claire whispered, "Is that him?"
Dinraal shook his head.
The voice sounded different.
"You wanted answers about your father."
Dinraal's hands curled into fists.
"Come out."
A laugh echoed through the hallway.
"No."
The lights above them flickered.
"But I can offer you something."
Dinraal stared into the darkness.
"What?"
"The truth."
Isolde stepped closer to him.
Dinraal noticed.
For once, he didn't tell her to move away.
"About what?" he asked.
The voice grew quieter.
"About why Emperor Bahamut died."
Dinraal's heart stopped.
Claire looked toward him.
"Dinraal—"
He raised a hand.
The voice continued.
"Do you still believe he lost?"
Dinraal's jaw tightened.
"Show yourself."
"Do you still believe the Chancellor defeated him?"
The hallway seemed to grow colder.
Dinraal thought of the memories.
His father.
Standing before the Chancellor.
The standard-issue sword.
The silence.
The acceptance.
His hands began to shake.
Isolde noticed.
She quietly took one of them.
Dinraal looked down.
She didn't release him.
"Don't listen to him," she whispered.
Dinraal looked back into the darkness.
The voice laughed again.
"Ah."
A pause.
"So the princess has finally found her prince."
Isolde's face turned red.
"Shut up."
Dinraal glanced at her.
She pointed her rapier into the darkness.
"Not you."
The voice laughed louder.
Then suddenly stopped.
Dinraal's HUD flashed.
WARNING.
HIGH-ENERGY SIGNATURE DETECTED.
"MOVE!"
Dinraal grabbed Isolde and Claire.
They dove behind a support column.
A beam of blue energy tore through the corridor.
The explosion destroyed half the wall.
Dinraal looked around the column.
Three armored figures stood at the far end of the hallway.
Then another.
Then another.
Six.
Too many for the narrow corridor.
Dinraal drew both revolvers.
"Stay here."
Isolde grabbed his arm.
"No."
Dinraal looked at her.
"I can move faster alone."
"And I'm coming anyway."
Claire raised her sidearm.
"I suppose that leaves me with no choice."
Dinraal stared at them.
Then sighed.
"Fine."
He stood.
The firefight began.
Dinraal fired first.
His revolvers roared.
One attacker fell.
The others scattered.
Blue energy filled the corridor.
Dinraal moved with impossible speed, crossing from one piece of cover to another before the attackers could adjust their aim.
Isolde followed.
Her rapier flashed as she closed the distance.
One attacker raised his weapon.
Claire fired.
The shot struck the stranger's shoulder.
Isolde took advantage of the opening.
Her blade slipped beneath his helmet.
He collapsed.
"Two," she said.
Dinraal fired again.
"Three."
Isolde looked toward him.
"Are we counting?"
"No."
"You just said three."
"That was tactical information."
Claire sighed.
The remaining attackers regrouped.
Dinraal's HUD calculated their positions.
Four left.
Then it changed.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Dinraal frowned.
"That's not good."
Isolde followed his gaze.
More armored figures were approaching from the far end of the corridor.
Claire looked behind them.
Another group appeared.
They were surrounded.
Dinraal's expression darkened.
Then he smiled.
Isolde stared at him.
"Why are you smiling?"
"Because I finally understand."
"What?"
"They don't want us dead."
Claire looked around.
A blast narrowly missed her.
"Could have fooled me!"
Dinraal raised his weapon.
"If they wanted us dead, we'd already be dead."
Isolde looked at the attackers.
"What do they want?"
Dinraal's smile disappeared.
"I don't know."
A new voice spoke.
This one was close.
Very close.
"Not you."
Everyone froze.
The attackers stopped firing.
Dinraal slowly turned.
A figure stood behind them.
He had no armor.
No visible weapon.
He wore a long black coat.
His face was hidden beneath a silver mask.
Dinraal's eyes narrowed.
The stranger looked directly at him.
"We want what you carry."
Dinraal's hand moved toward his gauntlet.
The masked man smiled.
"The Mithril Gaunt."
Johanna kicked open the door.
The abandoned building had been silent for too long.
Her group moved behind her.
Five attendants.
Three guards.
That was all she had left.
The others had been injured in the crash.
Johanna activated her communicator.
Nothing.
The signal was being jammed.
"Still nothing?" one of the guards asked.
Johanna shook her head.
"No."
They moved into the street.
The city had descended into chaos.
Civilians ran between burning vehicles.
Distant gunfire echoed from every direction.
Johanna hated it.
This was too organized.
Too precise.
The attackers were not simply causing destruction.
They were controlling movement.
Herding people.
Johanna suddenly stopped.
One of her guards looked at her.
"What is it?"
Johanna pointed toward the streets.
"Look."
The fires.
The explosions.
The destroyed buildings.
They formed a path.
A path leading away from the center of the city.
Toward a single location.
Johanna felt her stomach drop.
"Where is the princess?"
One of the attendants checked a damaged tracking device.
His face went pale.
"She's moving."
Johanna stepped closer.
"Where?"
The attendant looked up.
"Toward the same location."
Johanna's expression hardened.
"Then that's where we're going."
She raised her weapon.
"Move."
The masked man extended one hand.
The attackers remained perfectly still.
Dinraal's mind raced.
The Mithril Gaunt.
They wanted the symbol of his authority.
The object that recognized his Right of Rule.
An object connected to the oaths of his bloodline.
He slowly raised his revolver.
"You could have just asked."
The masked man tilted his head.
"I did."
"Not politely."
"Neither was your father."
The words hit Dinraal like a physical blow.
Isolde immediately stepped in front of him.
Dinraal stared at the back of her head.
"Ise."
"No."
"Move."
"No."
Dinraal's expression changed.
"Isolde."
She turned toward him.
"No one talks about your father like that."
For a moment, Dinraal forgot about the attackers.
Then the masked man laughed.
"You truly know nothing."
Dinraal raised his weapon.
"Enough."
The masked man looked toward him.
"I agree."
He snapped his fingers.
The world went dark.
Dinraal felt something strike him from behind.
His vision blurred.
He reached for Isolde.
"Ise—"
Her hand found his.
Then the floor disappeared beneath them.
And all three fell.