LYCAVORIAN UNION
AUTUMN MOON-CLASS FRIGATE SHADOW'S HAND
THREE HOURS FROM ENURRUA
Aihola sat at the same small communications station she had been sitting at for the last three hours. The station was in the conference room of the frigate, only able to fit perhaps six people. She was still trying to wrap her mind around everything Dysea had told her, and she wasn't being very successful.
Dekton was a clone.
A clone engineered by the High Coven, and a traitor. A traitor that had used her and Tarifa in the most disgusting manner that Aihola had ever been used. He had wormed his way into their hearts… into their souls… and for the entire time… he had been a traitor. He had tried to kill Martin and Dysea. He had fooled them all completely. How could she… they have been so stupid, so foolish. Why didn't they see something… anything that might have told him what he was?
