Chapter 64: What the Prisoners Knew

The interrogation results came through two days later, and Ren found himself summoned to a secure briefing chamber alongside Yegard and Reven both, the weight of finally having concrete answers settling heavy with anticipation as they gathered around the central display.

“Both operatives cooperated eventually,” the lead intelligence officer reported, pulling up detailed notes from the extended interrogation. “Standard Vorhesk training, considerably resistant to initial questioning, but our methods were… thorough.”

“What did they actually give you,” Reven asked, cutting straight to the substance.

“Confirmation of everything we already suspected regarding the artificial incursion technology,” the officer said, “along with something considerably more concerning. The attack on the children wasn’t authorized by standard Vorhesk command structure. It came directly from a splinter faction, considerably more radical than the main organization, operating with resources and backing that suggest outside support beyond what Vorhesk alone typically commands.”

Ren felt his stomach tighten at that. “Outside support from who?”

“They didn’t know, or wouldn’t say,” the officer admitted. “But the technology signature matches something considerably more sophisticated than Vorhesk’s usual capabilities. Someone’s been supplying them with resources well beyond their normal reach, likely in exchange for exactly this kind of destabilizing action against the Crown.”

“A third party, using Vorhesk as a convenient proxy,” Yegard said slowly, working through the implications with visible, mounting concern. “Which means even if we dismantle Vorhesk’s operational capacity entirely, whoever’s actually behind this escalation remains free to simply find another vehicle for their actual goals.”

“That’s our assessment as well,” the officer confirmed, something grim in her tone. “We’re working to trace the technology’s origin now, cross-referencing manufacturing signatures against known Imperial and foreign suppliers. It’s slow work, but we’re making progress.”

Reven’s expression had gone sharp and calculating throughout the briefing, something fierce and protective simmering beneath his careful composure. “I want full resources dedicated to this trace,” he said, firm and immediate. “Whatever budget, whatever personnel it requires. If someone’s using a proxy faction to attack children on palace grounds, I intend to find out exactly who, and I intend to make them understand precisely how severely they’ve miscalculated.”

Ren felt something fierce and grateful settle alongside his lingering anxiety at the sheer, unwavering determination radiating from both men. “What can I actually do to help,” he asked. “Beyond simply waiting for the investigation to produce results.”

The officer considered the question carefully. “Your dual classification gives you a unique perspective on energy signatures that our standard equipment sometimes misses,” she said finally. “If you’re willing, examining the captured technology directly, seeing whether your own abilities register something our instruments don’t, might actually accelerate the tracing process considerably.”

“I’m willing,” Ren said immediately, grateful for something concrete and useful he could actually contribute rather than simply waiting anxiously on the sidelines.

They moved to a secure technical lab shortly after, and Ren found himself examining a small, intricate device, carefully extracted from one of the captured operatives, its surface etched with unfamiliar symbols and circuitry that hummed faintly even in its deactivated state.

“Careful,” the lab technician warned as Ren reached toward it. “We’ve kept it powered down, but residual energy signatures can still register unpredictably against an active Sentinel or Guide classification.”

Ren nodded, extending his senses carefully toward the device the way weeks of training had taught him, searching for whatever subtle signature might be hiding beneath its surface. At first, nothing registered beyond the expected baseline hum of dormant technology, but as he focused more deliberately, something flickered at the edges of his awareness, faint and strange, a pattern he didn’t immediately recognize.

“There’s something here,” he said slowly, concentrating harder, the Guide portion of his classification apparently picking up on details the technical equipment had entirely missed. “Some kind of layered signature, like this device was built using components from multiple separate sources, stitched together rather than manufactured as a single cohesive unit.”

The lab technician’s eyes widened slightly at that, already pulling up additional scanning equipment to cross-reference Ren’s observation. “That’s… actually consistent with what we’ve been seeing in the broader data,” she admitted, something excited entering her focused attention. “Components sourced from at least three distinct supply chains, which would explain why we’ve had such difficulty tracing a single clear origin point.”

“Can you identify the separate sources,” Reven asked, watching the exchange with sharp, focused interest.

“Possibly, now that we know to look for them separately rather than as a unified signature,” the technician said, already working through the implications with visible excitement. “This is genuinely useful, Your Highness. I don’t think our equipment alone would have caught this distinction without his input.”

Ren felt a measure of satisfaction at having actually contributed something concrete, exhaustion from the careful, focused effort settling into his shoulders despite the genuine usefulness of the discovery. “Is there anything else I can check,” he asked, already reaching for whatever other material evidence the technicians had gathered.

They spent the better part of the afternoon working through the recovered evidence together, Ren’s unique perspective catching several additional details the standard equipment had missed, and by evening, the investigation had progressed considerably further than days of conventional analysis alone had managed to produce.

“This is genuinely significant progress,” Reven said, reviewing the compiled findings with evident satisfaction as the technical team continued their work into the evening. “We may actually be able to trace this back to its true source within days now, rather than the weeks we were originally projecting.”

“I’m glad I could actually help,” Ren said, exhaustion from the day’s focused effort settling heavy but satisfying into his bones.

Yegard’s hand found his shoulder, warm and steady. “You’ve done considerably more than simply help,” he said quietly. “You may have just given us the breakthrough we needed to actually end this threat permanently, rather than continuing to react defensively to whatever Vorhesk and their mysterious backers decide to throw at us next.”

Ren felt a genuine, grounded satisfaction settle into his chest at that, the earlier fear and helplessness of the courtyard attack finally giving way to something considerably more hopeful. “Then let’s finish this,” he said, determination settling firm and certain despite his exhaustion. “Whoever’s actually behind all this, whoever thought using children as leverage against us was an acceptable strategy, I want them found, and I want this threat ended properly, once and for all.”

They found Milo and Finn later that evening, both boys considerably more settled after two days of elevated security and careful reassurance, and Ren felt the day’s productive progress settle into proper, grounded relief at the sight of them safe and genuinely at ease, Finn already deep into another elaborate game while Milo offered quiet, careful observation from a comfortable distance.

“Good day,” Milo asked, catching Ren’s eye with his usual perceptive attention.

“A genuinely good day,” Ren confirmed, something warm and hopeful settling properly into his voice for the first time since the courtyard attack. “We might actually be close to ending this threat properly. Finding whoever’s really behind everything that’s been happening.”

Something eased visibly in Milo’s young posture at that, careful, cautious hope breaking through his usual guarded reserve. “That would be good,” he said simply, something quietly fervent beneath the understated words.

“It would be,” Ren agreed, settling beside him, watching Finn’s elaborate game unfold with growing, genuine contentment. ‘Whatever comes next,’ he thought, feeling the day’s hard-won progress settle warm and certain in his chest, ‘we’re finally moving toward an actual resolution, instead of simply reacting defensively to whatever danger finds us next. That has to count for something.’