The Governor's Office burned with light long past midnight.
Kael stood before a holo-display that filled the entire wall, his face cast in blue-white illumination. Data streams scrolled past—financial records, communication logs, security footage, names highlighted in red.
Behind him, three of his most trusted investigators worked in silence, their fingers flying across consoles, pulling thread after thread from the web of corruption they'd uncovered.
The air smelled of recycled oxygen and cold fury.
"Governor," one of the investigators—a sharp-eyed woman named Vessa—spoke without looking up. "We've confirmed the first location. Warehouse Twelve in Sector Nine. The sub-level matches the description exactly. Suppression runes, cages, blood residue. Forensics is processing now."
Kael's jaw tightened. "How many sites total?"
"Four confirmed so far. We're still tracing the network." Vessa's fingers danced across her console, pulling up a map of the city. Red markers bloomed across the lower districts like a disease. "But Governor... the money trail leads up. Way up."
"Names," Kael said flatly.
Vessa hesitated. "Sir, these aren't street thugs or small-time merchants. We're talking about—"
"Names," Kael repeated, his voice dropping to something cold and lethal.
Vessa swallowed and pulled up a list. "Councilor Draven's son, Matthias. He's been funneling funds through shell companies for three years. The Theron's heir, merchant Lord Carine's niece. And..."
She paused, face paling. "And at least seven other families from the upper districts. Some of them sit on your advisory council."
The silence that followed was absolute.
Kael stared at the names, his expression carved from stone. Then, very slowly, he spoke.
"Issue arrest warrants. All of them. I don't care who their families are. I don't care what connections they have. Bring them in."
"Sir, some of these people...."
"Did I stutter?" Kael's aura flared, a wave of pressure that made the air itself tremble. The investigators flinched, consoles flickering under the weight of his power.
Vessa bowed her head quickly. "No, sir.
Warrants issued immediately."
"Good." Kael turned away from the display, pacing toward the window. The city sprawled below him—lights glittering like false stars, hiding darkness in every shadow. "What about survivors? The children we recovered?"
Another investigator—a younger man named Torin—spoke up. "Medical teams are treating them now. Most are suffering from malnutrition, trauma, physical abuse..." His voice wavered. "Some of the injuries are... extensive. It's going to take time."
"Do they have families? Anyone we can contact?"
Torin shook his head slowly. "Most were taken from slum districts. Orphans, runaways, children no one would look for.
That's how they got away with it for so long."
Kael's fists clenched. "And the girl who died?"
"No identification yet. She... she didn't remember her own name, according to witnesses." Torin's throat worked. "They called her Fourteen."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop.
Kael closed his eyes, exhaling slowly through his nose. When he opened them again, they were harder than steel.
"Find out who she was," he said quietly. "Before they took her. She deserves a name."
"Yes, sir."
The office door hissed open suddenly.
Selene swept in, still wearing the same robe from earlier, her hair loose and her face drawn with exhaustion. But her emerald eyes burned with barely contained fury.
"Kael," she said, voice clipped. "You got time?."
The investigators immediately made themselves scarce, gathering datapads and slipping out of the room with practiced efficiency. Within seconds, Kael and Selene were alone.
She crossed the space in three strides and stopped in front of him, arms crossed.
"How many?" she asked.
"Names? Twenty-three so far. More being uncovered as we dig."
Selene's expression twisted with disgust.
"Twenty-three monsters operating in our city. Under our noses. For years."
"I know," Kael said tightly.
"Do you?" Selene's voice rose, sharp as a blade. "Because I just spent the last three hours holding two children sobbing themselves into exhaustion. And one of them a child who walked into hell to save people we should have protected."
Kael flinched as if struck. "Selene—"
"He's ten years old, Kael!" Her voice cracked. "And he did more in one night than our entire guard force has done in years!"
"I know," Kael said, voice rough. "Don't you think I know that? Don't you think it's tearing me apart that this happened under my watch?"
Selene stared at him, breathing hard. Then, slowly, her expression softened. She reached up, cupping his face with both hands.
"I'm not blaming you," she said quietly. "I'm blaming them. The ones who thought they could buy their way into darkness. The ones who hurt children and thought there would be no consequences."
Kael leaned into her touch, closing his eyes. "They'll pay. Every single one of them."
"They'd better," Selene murmured.
Kael opened his eyes, meeting her gaze. "I've already issued the warrants. By dawn, half the upper district will be in custody."
"Hmm." Selene's thumb brushed across his cheek. "And the others? The ones we haven't found yet?"
"We'll find them," Kael said grimly. "Jade gave us names before I left. One mercenary told him everything before he died."
"But there's one that concerns me." Kael continued ."One of the councilors—Veren—his son wasn't at his residence when we sent guards. The man helped him escape."
Selene went very still. "Escaped?"
"Hours ago. Before we even knew to look for him." Kael's jaw tightened. "He's gone underground. Could be off-planet by now."
"Then find him," Selene said coldly. "I don't care if he runs to the edge of the empire. We have to find him."
Kael nodded. "I will. I swear it."
They stood there for a moment, foreheads touching, drawing strength from each other.
Then Selene pulled back, brushing her fingers through his hair. "Come home soon.
You look like death."
"After the first wave of arrests," Kael promised. "I need to see this through."
Selene nodded, then turned toward the door. She paused at the threshold, glancing back.
"Kael?"
"Yes?"
"That girl—Fourteen. When you find out who she was... tell me. I want to make sure she's buried properly. With honor."
Kael's throat tightened. "I will."
Selene left without another word.
Kael stood alone in his office, surrounded by the ghosts of failures and the weight of promises yet kept.
Then he returned to the holo-display, pulling up the arrest list.
And began making calls.
....
...
Dawn broke over Nexus like a wound.
The city woke to chaos.
Hover-cars emblazoned with the Governor's seal descended on estates across the upper districts. Doors were breached. Alarms wailed. Families woke to find armed guards flooding their homes, dragging their sons and daughters from beds in restraints.
Matthias Draven; Councilor Draven's son, fought like a cornered animal, screaming about rights and connections and consequences. They sedated him and hauled him away in chains.
Merchant Lord Carine's nephew tried to bribe the arresting officers with enough credits to buy a small fleet. The guards ignored him, binding his hands and leading him to a transport.
One by one, the names on Kael's list were collected.
Some went quietly, faces pale with shock.
Others raged, threatened, called in favors from families who suddenly found themselves under investigation as well.
By mid-morning, the detention centers were overflowing.
And the city finally began to understand.
Whispers spread through the streets like
wildfire. The slums buzzed with rumors. The markets fell silent as people gathered around news feeds, watching footage of nobles being dragged from their homes.
"The Governor's gone mad," some said.
"About damn time," others muttered.
But in the back alleys and forgotten corners, where children had learned to hide from predators in expensive clothes, a different emotion stirred.
Hope.
-------------------------------------------------------
Happy Happy opened late that morning.
The sign flickered on at its usual time, but the door remained locked for another hour. Inside, the shop was quieter than usual—no customers, no apprentices bustling about. Just family.
Niamh moved through the space like a woman possessed, cleaning counters that didn't need cleaning, reorganizing shelves already perfectly ordered. Her hands trembled slightly with each motion, betraying the worry she tried to hide.
Amara sat at the front counter, pretending to update inventory logs but mostly just staring at the same line of text for ten minutes straight.
Gorvoth had stationed himself near the door to the back room, arms crossed, expression unreadable. But his eyes tracked every sound from beyond the doorway.
And in the back room, Lio sat on the floor outside Jade's door, knees drawn to his chest, waiting.
He'd been there since before dawn.
Inside the room, Jade was awake.
Had been for hours, actually.
He sat on the edge of his bed, staring at his hands—clean now, scrubbed until the skin was raw, but still he could feel the blood. The memory of holding her while she died.
His shoulder throbbed where the plasma burn had been. He'd healed it himself in the early hours, the wound closing with practiced efficiency. But phantom pain lingered like a reminder.
'She died thinking she saved me'.
The thought circled through his mind like a predator, refusing to leave.
In his old life as Dorian he'd seen people die. Had killed people when necessary. Death was a currency in the underworld, spent freely and without ceremony.
But that was different.
Those deaths had been... transactional. Necessary. Part of the game.
This?
This was a child who'd been broken by monsters, who'd thrown herself in front of a bullet for a stranger because no one had ever shown her kindness before.
And he'd failed her.
Jade's hands clenched into fists.
No.
Not failed.
He'd saved fifteen others. Gorvoth's words echoed in his mind. He'd dismantled a trafficking ring. He'd delivered names to Kael. Justice was coming.
That had to mean something.
It had to.
Jade exhaled slowly, forcing his breathing to steady. His heart rate slowed. The trembling in his hands ceased.
This wasn't the first time he'd carried the weight of death. It wouldn't be the last.
He just needed to... process it. File it away.
Use it.
Transform grief into purpose.
That's what he'd done in his previous life.
That's what he'd do now.
Slowly, Jade stood. His legs were steady. His mind clear.
He moved to the small basin in the corner of his room and splashed cold water on his face, then looked at himself in the mirror.
Silver-white hair fell past his shoulders, still damp. His silver eyes stared back at him, calm now. Controlled.
He looked... fine.
Normal.
Like a boy who'd had a rough night but was ready to move forward.
Good, he thought. That's exactly what they need to see.
Because if he fell apart, they would too. Niamh would hover. Selene would smother him. Lio would blame himself.
He couldn't let that happen.
So he would be strong. Composed. The boy who'd walked into hell and come back whole.
Even if it was a lie.
Jade pulled on a clean shirt,simple, dark blue, no blood stains and tied his hair back with a black ribbon. Then he opened the door.
Lio nearly fell over, scrambling to his feet. "Jade! You're—are you—"
"I'm fine," Jade said quietly.
Lio stared at him, eyes scanning his face, searching for cracks. "Are you sure? Because you don't have to be fine. It's okay if you're not—"
"I'm fine," Jade repeated, softer this time. He reached out and squeezed Lio's shoulder. "Really."
But Lio's expression only grew more worried. Because Jade looked fine. Like he'd packed everything away into a box and locked it tight.
"Jade..." Lio's voice wavered. "You don't have to pretend. Not with us."
Jade met his eyes steadily. "I'm not pretending. I'm just... I'm okay, Lio. I promise."
It wasn't entirely true. But it wasn't entirely false either.
Before Lio could respond, Niamh appeared in the doorway, eyes red-rimmed but fierce.
"Jade—sweetheart—you're awake—" She crossed to him immediately, hands cupping his face, searching his eyes. "How are you feeling? Are you hurt? Do you need anything?"
"I'm okay, Niamh," Jade said gently. "The burn's healed. I'm not hurt."
Niamh's hands trembled against his cheeks. "I know you're always calm but this time, you're bottling it up, aren't you? Jade, you can't—"
"I'm not," Jade lied smoothly. "I just... I processed it. That's all."
Niamh looked unconvinced. Her eyes filled with tears again, and she pulled him into a crushing hug.
"You're just a child," she whispered brokenly. "You shouldn't have to process things like this."
Jade kept his expression neutral, arms wrapping around her. "I know. But I did. And I'm okay now."
From the doorway, Gorvoth watched silently.
His eyes narrowed slightly, studying Jade's posture, his tone, the careful control in every word.
That's not a child, Gorvoth thought. That's someone who's survived worse.
But he said nothing.
By the time Jade emerged into the main shop, Amara had already burst into tears and wrapped him in a hug that threatened to crack ribs.
"I'm so glad you're okay," she sobbed. "I was so worried, we all were—"
"I'm okay," Jade repeated patiently, patting her back.
When she finally released him, Selene swept in through the front door, eyes immediately locking onto Jade.
"There you are," she breathed, crossing the shop in seconds. She dropped to her knees in front of him, hands cupping his face just as Niamh had. "How are you feeling?"
"I'm fine, Lady Selene," Jade said gently.
Her eyes searched his face, and worry deepened in her expression. "You're too composed. You're hiding it, aren't you?"
"I'm not hiding anything," Jade said. "I just... I'm okay. Really."
Selene didn't look convinced. She pulled him into a hug, one hand cradling the back of his head.
"If you need to talk," she whispered. "If you need to cry, or scream, or anything—we're here. You don't have to be strong all the time."
Jade nodded against her shoulder, but said nothing.
When Selene finally released him, she stood and exchanged a look with Niamh—a silent conversation filled with worry and helplessness.
He's too calm, Selene's expression said.
I know, Niamh's replied.
And from that moment on, Jade found himself under constant surveillance.
Niamh hovering nearby, checking on him every few minutes.
Selene stopping by three times before noon, each time with some excuse but really just wanting to see him.
Lio shadowing him like a guilty ghost, watching for signs of breakdown.
Even Gorvoth seemed to linger more than usual, his sharp eyes tracking Jade's movements.
And Jade bore it all with quiet patience, reassuring them again and again that he was fine.
Even though, deep down, he knew they didn't believe him.
....