Darius POV:
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Title: "A Whisper in the Shadows" – Darius POV
The night was colder than usual. Not because of the weather, but because the silence in the palace felt loaded. Ever since Skylar's execution, everything had shifted. The atmosphere was sharp, like a blade waiting to be drawn. And I—Darius—was in the middle of it all. Hidden in plain sight.
I moved through the lower halls of the palace, bypassing guards with ease. My clearance was still active. Amara hadn't revoked it, and Chris still didn't fully suspect how deep my knowledge ran.
But my conscience—it was a storm.
I had watched the empire turn into something... ruthless. Strategic, yes. Unstoppable, maybe. But humane? No. And that's what haunted me. Classic had already begun mobilizing his faction under Chris quietly, while Amara surged forward like a lioness guarding her territory.
And me?
I was a ghost walking a tightrope.
I paused near the eastern wing, leaning against the stone wall as I listened to the whispers coming from the command room. They were talking about new protocols, about purging remaining loyalists to Skylar, even though she was gone. Gone by Amara's hand. Chris had given the order without blinking.
I respected Amara. Feared her even. She was brilliant. Lethal. Loyal to Chris like gravity to the earth. But I also saw what that loyalty was costing her. She was becoming someone else. And Chris… he was evolving into something darker, more solitary, yet untouchably powerful.
I pressed my hand against my chest—right where I'd hidden the confidential scrolls detailing Classic's hidden movements. I hadn't shown them to Amara. Not yet. Not because I wanted to protect Classic, but because I still wasn't sure who truly deserved to see them.
Suddenly, my comm beeped.
Amara: "Darius. Report to the tower. Now."
Her voice was ice.
I clenched my jaw and answered: "On my way."
Because no matter how conflicted I was, I was still her shadow.
And shadows don't run from the dark. We survive it.