Simeon Grey stood in complete darkness, covered by shadows. Sunlight was choked from the Tribune chamber with the trio of thrones the oligarchy sat upon blocking the windows, with only stray strands of light peeking past. If it hadn’t been for Grey’s constant visits to these chambers, he’d have no idea who was who. The Captain held his arms behind his back in as formal a stance he could muster, though he felt himself grow uncharacteristically restless with worry. The three members of the Tribune looked down at him, all dressed in white, accented by red and black.

An elderly man with wisps of white hair laid clumsily on his head and wrinkles deep as trenches on his face leaned forward, resting his chin on his bony knuckles. “We’ve given you seventy-two hours, Captain Grey. Have you located your tool?”

Grey let out a soft exhale. “No.”

Silence permeated the room until finally, a fat elderly woman on the far right coughed and wiped her mouth with a napkin. She tapped her chair. “Is it dead or simply lost?” she said, after gulping down a glass of water that materialized on her armrest.

Grey didn’t blink. “We are currently unsure. The explosion caused the cavern to collapse and we have not received any communication from the devil since then.”

“You call it ‘devil’ as if it has the awareness to function on a level where it could discern between right and wrong,” the old man in the center said. He pointed a crooked and shaking finger at the Captain. “It is an it. Anything further is…is…” the old man wheezed.

A glass of water appeared on his armrest as well. As he drank, the third member of the Tribune, a younger man, raised a hand. “The bottom line is, we want you to locate the subject as quickly as possible, Captain Grey. If you have any further updates, please notify us immediately,” he said. He looked at Grey and gestured with a raised eyebrow. The Captain frowned and nodded.

The old man in the center coughed. “Yes, yes,” he said through wheezing breaths. “What the boy said.”

“You are dismissed, Captain.” The old woman shooed Grey away with a loose wrist. The Captain dipped his head and turned. The Tribune chamber doors opened and the light blinded him until he crossed the door’s threshold. The chamber guards, men in AI-equipped suits nearly as advanced as Grey’s Tarsus, closed the door behind him and stood at attention.

He licked the inside of his mouth and rounded a corner into a dark hallway. Alone with his thoughts, Grey festered with anger. What is happening?

It was less anger at the Tribune than it was at himself and the situation he found himself in. His tool, the greatest bit of FLOCK research was missing.

“Cap.” Grey opened his eyes and raised his head. The young Tribune member, Roman Gottschalk stood at the lighted end of the hallway and walked forward towards him. With his sharp and high cheekbones, the man was a near spitting image of his father, Grey’s former lieutenant. The FLOCK Captain squared himself and Roman shook his head. “Damn mess in there. Those old fucks are losing it.”

Narrowing his eyes, Simeon Grey said, “They have been serving on the Tribune since they were younger than you.”

Roman nodded. “And the country has suffered because of it. The same political bullshit again and again.” He paused and shook his head. “Hell, your organization has made a scientific breakthrough with your little lost dog and they just look at him like a tool. He’s more than that, he’s…”

“A devil,” Grey said, folding his arms. “Why did you want to talk to me? Hopefully, not just to jest about your fellow Tribune members?”

Roman laughed. “No, no, of course not.” He leaned against the wall next to the Captain. “I’ve been doing a lot of reading. Being a member of the Tribune grants me access to every classified operation in our country.” Grey shifted when Roman got closer to him. “I took particularly keen interest in Operation: Void Moon.”

Roman smiled as Simeon Grey’s eyebrows furrowed and he stepped back.

“Why?” he asked.

“When I was younger, my father told me he was taking a trip to the Kebulani city across the lake. I used to admire Kasira for its beauty and I thought that the Kebulani had done so well to build themselves a home in a world that feared and ostracized them. Then, ten years ago, the alarms went off in the city and everything was shut down. People were encouraged to stay in their homes, but I decided to watch from the roof of my home. I saw when a FLOCK fighter blazed through the sky and carpet bombed their entire city with miniature nuclear bombs,” Roman said.

Grey took in a sharp breath. Images of the destruction were imprinted in his mind. He remembered how the entire city had been covered in fire and ash. Through the cloud of smoke, Grey could still hear the wailing that stopped when and his team grew close to it. The source of it, a tiny figure walked on shaky legs towards him, befitting the toddler that it was. Though covered in ash and smoke, Grey made out the characteristics of the child. Dark caramel skin covered in blood. Light platinum blonde hair, layered with soot and debris. Golden-amber eyes, clouded by shock.

“Osin,” he whispered.

“So, ‘it’ has a name.” Roman smiled. “The public doesn’t know that your little operation resulted in the genocide of an entire race that had been granted asylum sans one. If they did…”

Grey felt a small pang of the guilt he had tried to bury within his heart. Instead of letting it surface, he replaced it with his normal abrasive and arrogant demeanor. “Are you threatening me with the opinions of people? You are sounding dangerously close to ORION philosophy,” Grey replied, a growl in his throat.

Roman shrugged. “They were right about one thing. These people are sheep. I can dictate what they perceive as truth and with this, I can expose an actuality. The Tribune will be exposed and ousted. FLOCK will be shut down. You…well, under my regime and the pressures of the people, you will be arrested, tried and imprisoned.”

Grey closed his fist. He wanted to grab Judas by his throat and squeeze the smirk off of his face. But, he held back. Roman had a play and years of military training had taught him to listen before he acted.

“What do you want, Roman?”

“I know where to find your boy,” Roman said. He squared up and looked Grey in the eye, though he was a few inches shorter than Simeon. “Bring him to me and I will ensure that all records of your operation are permanently erased.” Grey narrowed his eyes. Before he could speak, Roman said, “You honestly don’t have an option in the matter, Captain.”

The Captain drew his AC-8R and placed it under Roman’s chin. His nerve impulses created a rifle and the barrel dug into the man’s throat.

“I have several options, Roman. If you attempt to corner me again, I will –”

“You’ll shoot me? Figured as much.” Roman’s smile never faded. “The information is already been transferred to my personal files, locked by my heart rate. If my heart stops beating, Operation: Void Moon becomes tonight’s headline.”

“Why do you want the devil?” Grey whispered.

“Do you care?” Roman replied.

Grey was quiet. And he lowered his weapon and stared back at Roman. “Where is he?”

Anais felt a jolt of excitement and nervousness as the FLOCK Griffon-class carrier lowered from the clouds as it passed over the lake that separated the main continent and Asticus from the ruins of Kasira. The last three days had been hell for her from the moment she had been relieved of duty after her interview with Osin to hearing of the explosion that had buried whatever ORION had been trying to uncover. For three days, Anais had felt sick, trying to maintain her professionalism as she entered the facility only to see Osin’s chamber empty instead of breaking down into tears.

After today, things would be back to normal. Grey had received intel on Osin’s whereabouts and his quickly assembled team of FLOCK special agents included those who had participated in the very first missions with Simeon Grey years ago. Anais stared across at one of them, whose finger flexed over the trigger of his AC-8R like he was massaging it.

She looked around at the other soldiers in the carrier that surrounded her, realizing that she was the only one that was unarmed and unarmored, wearing only a basic suit and rebreather for protection against potential radiation. Like a large tidal wave, it hit Anais that this wasn’t a simple rescue mission.

The Griffon rocked and then slowed. The pilot spoke over the speakers, saying, “We’re on our way down. Grab your gear. Captain Grey wants boots on the ground immediately.”

The FLOCK veterans around Anais stood up in their battle-scarred white armor and surrounded her. Anais felt the ship descend until there was a slight thud as it hit the ground. Immediately, the FLOCK troopers moved out of the ship and Anais followed them. In the distance, she saw Captain Grey, marked by gold stripes on his armor, and rushed toward him.

“Simeon!” she called. The Captain turned his head and nodded toward her, in his odd way of acknowledging her presence. He folded his arms behind his back and raised his head.

“Do it,” he said. Anais started to wonder who Grey was talking to, she heard the soldiers grunting as they brought an enormous bit of machinery forward. She recognized it as a sonic cannon from the tech labs, an old blueprint that had gone unused in the years since its development. What they intended to do with it was initially lost on her until the first blast.

The cannon hummed loudly with a low frequency as sparks of energy gathered at the barrel before the gun fired, upheaving the earth. A dust cloud rose and Anais’ visor attempted to see through it, making out the tip of what seemed to be a silver and black metal structure. Beside Anais, Grey raised his hand.

“Fire again.”

The cannon hummed and Anais covered her ears in preparation for it to fire once more. A fire did rise but it came from the gun as it exploded, sending metal shrapnel and FLOCK troopers flying. Anais’ eyes widened as she looked around through the mixture of grey dust and smoke, trying to find the source of the weapon’s malfunction.

She never thought to look up.

Slowly, a figure descended, arms outstretched and head lowered. He was small with pieces of black metal armor on his body, left arm bare with a spiraling tattoo of flames and symbols decorating it from fingertip to shoulder. The figure landed in the middle of them, dust clearing away when his feet touched the earth.

Rifles raised and pointed to him. The figure turned to look at them all, stopping as his amber eyes rested on Captain Grey. Anais felt her heart stop. It was Osin. Somehow, the boy looked older though it had only been three days since she had last seen him. Something about his face lacked the naivete it had once had, the sweet innocence of a little boy readily accepting whatever they had to say. He looked different, angry.

“Weapons down!” Grey shouted to his soldiers. The FLOCK troopers did as they were told and Captain Grey approached the boy with a confident stride. “Osin,” he said, reaching out to him.

Osin reached out as well, forcing Grey to stop in his tracks, without laying a finger on him. Frozen, Grey blinked rapidly. The rifles raised again and Anais rose to her feet.

“Osin!” The boy looked at her and his gaze softened. Anais breathed a sigh of relief and continued. “Please...let him go. These men will kill you. Please…”

This seemed to make Osin upset and before Anais could say anything, Osin spoke.

“Nas qi Masir Inajoba, lo Bukhiye. Hawa kii ku’lan.” He blinked and Anais gulped. Osin spoke again, this time in Canter, saying, “My name is Masir Inajoba, the promised Key.” His gaze turned to the FLOCK troopers. “And they will not.” Things happened in a blur as Osin disappeared from Anais’ view. The shouts and cries of the troopers around her caused her to whip her head around, trying to find where Osin was until finally he was in front of her again. Anais turned and raised her hand to her mouth. The FLOCK troopers laid skewered and bifurcated around her in the dirt and their killer stared up at her with searching amber eyes. There was no malice behind them, Anais felt. He was still a child, albeit a powerful one.

“Iyas’um,” he said. Anais recognized the word, one of the first that Osin had ever used to address her. It meant “mother". She felt tears form in her eyes, smiled and dared to attempt to caress his face. He let her before turning his head to look back at Captain Grey. “Yasur…”

Electricity wrapped around Osin’s body and he let out a loud, high-pitched scream until his eyes rolled into his head and he slumped to the ground, softened only by Anais arms grabbing him. When she looked up, Captain Grey lowered his Acclimator and sighed softly.

“What the hell is wrong with you!?” Anais shouted. “He's a child!”

“He's a devil,” Captain Grey replied.

“He's a fucking child, you son of a bitch!” Anais felt sick, softly rubbing the boy's face, slowly realizing as she looked into Grey’s eyes that he had used her, not simply to capture Osin but to distract him and blind him. A false sense of security, luring him in like prey.

Anais grabbed one of the FLOCK Acclimators, remembering all the times throughout Osin’s upbringing that Grey had stabbed her in the back and how all she desired was to return the favor.

Where she had the will, she lacked the training of the Captain, who had telegraphed her moves enough to grab and break her arm before he rammed the butt of his gun into her neck and she fell on top of Osin, covering him and hoping in her fleeting conscious moments that she could still protect him.