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Many thanks to all our readers! Your enthusiasm has inspired and motivated us to conceive, write and publish this chapter! ❤️
This special and canonical chapter will be in five parts; it does not occur simultaneously with the current publication timeline (Chapter: Clues and Hidden Meanings). You will likely discover it later.
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Beginning of the story
For two years now, I've been embedded within the criminal organization Azplent, an entity that hasn't hesitated to challenge the authority of Kurokafu in the past. Today marks the moment for me to depart from these shadowy corridors.
I am a Luminara, a scout amidst the shadows. My name holds no significance, for in our clandestine world, names are luxuries we cannot afford.
During these two years of infiltration, I've skillfully climbed the ranks. I've been seen as the pillar of the group, someone relied upon in every circumstance. Under my cover, I've assumed the role of mentor for new recruits, guiding their training and easing their integration within the organization. Ironically, I've also been tasked with hunting down and punishing traitors, a task tinged with bitter irony given my true allegiance.
I became the guardian of morality, erecting principles that I myself did not uphold. Loyalty, a concept I was supposed to defend, became a fleeting shadow in my mind tormented by the duality of my existence.
The reason for my departure is an email I received indicating that my mission was complete. Another Luminara even came to warn me that I needed to return to file my report.
Tomorrow at dawn, I will leave the organization, as if I had never existed, as if my footsteps had never trodden these lands. My conscience continually asks me if I have any regrets. But I have none. I am just doing what needs to be done.
In the icy darkness of the night, I wait in a dim alley, concealed from the world's eyes.
The dawn was just beginning to break when a car pulled up in front of me. The engine purred softly as a man stepped out of the vehicle.
"Do you have belongings to gather?" he asked.
"I have none," I replied. We then got into the car and set off towards Kurokafu's main hideout.
The Chameleon who was driving me was not at all talkative, which gave me the opportunity to catch up on my sleep, as I hadn't closed my eyes for two days now.
After a long but too short sleep, he gently pulled me from my rest to announce our arrival.
With heavy eyelids, I struggled to adjust to the bright midday light filtering through the car windows. As the vehicle entered a dark tunnel, we seemed to be descending into the depths of the mountain, far from civilization.
The transition was abrupt: natural light gave way to artificial illumination bathing the tunnel in a cold, impersonal glow. As we progressed, other passages revealed themselves, intertwining the space in a complexity reminiscent of a labyrinth, an urban spiderweb woven in the depths of the earth.
I marveled at the familiarity with which the Chameleon navigated through this maze of tunnels. Every curve, every intersection seemed etched into his memory, as if this subterranean maze were his second nature. As we progressed, guards materialized, emerging from the shadows at regular intervals. At each checkpoint, our identities were meticulously verified, marking our progress with frequent stops.
Finally, after an hour of descent into the bowels of the mountain, we emerged in a vast underground parking lot. It was one of the Chameleons' favorite haunts, a haven of anonymity in the organization's labyrinthine depths. The car parked, and we parted ways at this point, like two strangers crossing paths in the shadow of an unknown city.
The scene was filled with a motley crowd, each undoubtedly carrying their own secrets to protect, and others with missions whose success meant survival. In this environment that mixed all statuses, it was best to avoid curious glances and unnecessary interactions.
In this vast parking lot, a myriad of entrances and exits sprawled before me, each representing a path to the unknown or a return to the safety of the underground darkness. Nothing had changed since my last visit two years ago, at least not in this place. Cryptic signs in Kurokafu script adorned the walls, revealing the destinations of each tunnel. Most led simply to the outside or to other access points to the network, but some offered direct passages to train stations, urban areas, and even the surrounding major cities.
It's worth noting that the place where the Chameleon dropped me off is where people like him take care of fetching and dropping off individuals. It's somewhat the organization's reception area.
Each tunnel, aside from the entrance and exit lanes, is equipped with two lines of carriages, ready to transport members of the organization to their destinations, and then back again.
I then headed towards the main tunnel, the one that would allow me to delve into the heart of the organization. If we continue to follow this sign all the way, it will lead us to Kurokafu's area, the leader. By the way, we know nothing about him. And I don't think that has changed.
After another identity check, I finally boarded the carriage.
The one I'm in is armored. The advantage over regular public transportation is that here, we don't have to fear theft or anything. But out of caution, we remain vigilant. Because ultimately, you never know.
Arriving in the area of the organization's leader, I noticed the hustle and bustle that prevailed there, with at its center, still imposing, that majestic building, heavily secured with a huge courtyard resembling a station, where wagons stopped to drop off their passengers. Without a doubt, that's where the chief resides.
The tunnels extending from this strategic location allow direct access to several key locations within the underground structure, notably all places leading to the area of different statuses. However, these paths are only accessible to individuals authorized to meet the chief or himself and have only one line. Because the wagons go back and forth. But we, mere agents, are constrained to return to reception or head to the following areas: Argiope and Phoneutria.
Precise knowledge of the hierarchy is therefore essential to move freely within the organization. For example, if I wish to go to the area of the Chameleons, I will have to take the tunnel of the Argiopes, then that of the Misumena vatia, and finally take that of the Chameleons.
But well. A Luminara ending up on this side is never a good sign. I head towards the Saboteurs' area. I wait for the wagon going to Phoneutria.
After waiting a few minutes, I finally arrive at my destination.
A large office greeted my sight as I stepped through the door. Barely inside, I felt the scrutinizing gazes weighing on me, analyzing every movement, every expression. It's as if I found myself caught in an invisible spider's web, where every step could be a fatal mistake.
A man, among those who seem to run this place, notices my presence and strides towards me with determination. "Your status?" he asks in a voice that leaves no room for weakness. Although the use of "you" seems strange to me, I understand that it's the norm here, especially since he doesn't know my branch yet. He's probably wary of the fact that I outrank him.
I take out my badge and hold it out towards him, watching his reaction closely. After a few seconds, his expression changes: "I see, you're the one who was sent to Azplent's hideout number two. I've already been informed of your return. The Saboteur assigned to you is in the building. I'll call him to find out what to do with you."
He takes my card, leaving me momentarily suspended. I take a seat, discreetly observing the assembly around me. The Brown Widows are immediately recognizable, with a vulgar appearance and dominant in their interactions, their sharp gaze analyzing everything and everyone. They are only women who embody a kind of contemptuous coldness, although I know that this might be too easy a stereotype.
At a cautious distance, I also note the presence of the Reapers. It's best to avoid any conversation with them. As their nickname suggests, they seem devoid of any emotion, programmed only to kill and obey. Although all agents of Kurokafu are trained to be efficient instruments of their mission, the Reapers are molded into a particularly ruthless mold.
And finally, the majority of those present, the Saboteurs, a group whose members are not easily identifiable. Most of them have the typical appearance of computer specialists, while others defy this stereotype with their athletic builds. This is not surprising: under the banner of the Phoneutria, we are also and above all field agents, ready to intervene physically as much as to manipulate data.
There are probably many from other branches, but there's no time for analysis, as the Saboteur returns with my badge. Anyway, what's certain is that everyone here is on a mission. No movement is random, or driven by mere curiosity, everyone has a goal, and each is where they are to take a step towards their achievement.
"So, you've been gone for two years? Welcome back among us. The Saboteur asks you to go up to the fourth floor, door 416. Make sure you have all the data from your mission."
I nod, retrieve my badge, and head towards the elevator. I wasn't the only one waiting for it. There was a Brown Widow. I can feel her gaze roaming up and down, but I act as if nothing is happening. I refuse to attract attention.
Once inside the cabin, she stands facing me, back to the doors. "I'm not going to kill you, you know? You can talk," she says in a tone that's half-serious, half-mocking. I just stare at her, choosing silence as a response. She insists: "Oh, come on... You Phoneutria underlings are really uptight."
"Uptight, perhaps, but at least we live longer," I retort.
A smirk appears on her face. "Oh, you have a sense of humor? Very funny, Mr. Luminara. Do you want to know who has the best success and survival rates in missions?"
I keep silent, already knowing the answer. The Brown Widows dominate in these statistics. Seeing that I no longer respond, she turns to face the doors opening onto the second floor. "I really respect your work at the Luminara, you've gotten me out of many situations."
As the doors are about to close, she blocks their closing and continues, "I'll give you a piece of advice, and you do what you want with it: think about resting. I know, Kurokafu isn't really the ideal place for that."
Finally, she withdraws her hand, letting the doors close. Her advice is ironic because for us, the Luminara, rest is only allowed by the Saboteurs after a period of intense and fruitful work. Resting often means being useless, and uselessness can lead to death.
I slowly approach the indicated door. I knock, once, twice, and finally a third time, each separated by a second. It's a way of doing things among the Saboteurs.
The door opens with a discreet creak, revealing a dark interior filled with electronics. The man behind the door adjusts his holster, sliding his weapon onto his belt with a skill that betrays years of practice. His eyes scan the surroundings before settling on me, quickly assessing the potential threat I might represent.
We exchange a Kurokafu handshake, with the thumb raised, then he nods, inviting me to enter. "Come in, quickly. We don't like to leave the door open too long here," he said with a hint of seriousness tinged with urgency.
His office is a mix of surveillance screens and technological gadgets, some blinking with data scrolling too quickly to be read at a glance.
I cross the threshold, the door closing softly behind me, sealing the confined space with a reassuring click. The room is dimly lit, just enough to make out the outlines of multiple screens and the concentrated face of my host.
"So, was the journey good?" he asks as he sits behind his desk, his fingers already tapping on a keyboard, ready to dive into his multiple tasks while listening to me.
"Yes, it was," I reply.
Suddenly, he stops typing and looks me straight in the eyes. "So, two years at Azplent?"
A Saboteur behind a screen doesn't care about what might come out of a Luminara's mouth, all he's interested in is digital data. So, I pull out my SD card, where I stored all the data from these past two years. I handed it over to him, a smile forming on his face.
"Perfect, let's see this." The Saboteur carefully inserts the SD card and starts navigating through the files. He enlarges the screen, and lines of code begin to scroll rapidly. After a few moments, he starts listing the types of data he can extract.
"Let's see... Here we have the security schematics of all Azplent buildings, including alarms and surveillance cameras. That's always useful." He clicks on a file, opening a detailed plan of a complex installation.
He continues, "Ah, and here, the internal communication logs. This could reveal interesting patterns, especially if we spot anomalies or frequent encrypted exchanges." His index finger slides on the mouse, selecting other folders.
"And here, we have the complete profiles of key employees: histories, contacts, habits... everything we might want to understand who's pulling the strings and how to manipulate them. Well, that's not our role." He pauses for a moment to change the screen, then continues, "There's also a set of financial data. Transactions, investments, maybe even information on offshore accounts if we dig deep enough."
The Saboteur nods and continues to explore the files stored on the SD card. He opens a new folder, his expression becoming more serious.
"Ah, and here's something that could greatly interest us. It seems we also have access to files on Azplent's planned operations, including details on their future attack plans, targets, and envisaged strategies. That gives us a significant head start."
He clicks on another folder, his gaze scanning the screen. "And here, we have a detailed list of recently missing members, including the circumstances of their death. This could indicate internal weaknesses or conflicts."
Then he opens another file. "These are the information on members who have betrayed the organization. It includes their identity, the reasons for their betrayal, and what happened to them afterward. It's crucial for understanding internal dynamics and maybe exploiting dissent."
He navigates further, "And here's the list of new members. It allows us to see who's rising in the organization and could become a target or a potential ally."
Finally, he displays another document. "And the key decision-makers... The people who actually pull the strings at Azplent. Knowing who they are gives us a chance to destabilize the entire organization from within."
The Saboteur looks at me with a satisfied expression, his eyes shining with excitement at the goldmine of information he has just discovered. "Well, you've really done good work. With all this data."
Seeing that he had missed my reports, I reply, "I also kept a journal."
"Yeah, I saw, you did more than necessary. But well, I won't dwell on it for now. So, tell me, have they launched attacks against Kurokafu?"
"Exactly. Day 425, from my journal, they captured and killed some Chameleons."
The Saboteur hurried to the journal, on the indicated day. He started reading aloud: "Three Chameleons killed in an ambush. Their code: CSD00412132, CSD10419543, CSD10341749."
The Saboteur quickly typed on the keyboard, his eyes scanning the screen as he searched for the identifiers of the mentioned Chameleons. He nodded, focused, as the profiles of the killed agents appeared on another screen.
"Here are our Chameleons... indeed killed during the described attack." He points to the details on the screen, his tone becoming more serious. "You should have reported immediately that they were the assassins."
"We were always taught to carry out our mission to its success above all. So, I did nothing that would compromise my cover," I replied promptly.
He sighs, a glimmer of satisfaction in his eyes. "It's nothing, you've done excellent work. I'll transmit this information to the TRD. With this, our leaders will certainly consider launching an offensive to neutralize Azplent."
He carefully removes the SD card and secures it in a code-locked cabinet. Then, he sits back down and looks at me with an ambiguous smile. "You'll be generously rewarded, well done and thank you for your work."
Although at the Luminara, like at the Arachniscorpus, the remunerations are among the highest, the prospect of this big bonus is gratifying, especially after taking so many risks. However, I can't fully rejoice. Tomorrow, maybe I'll be dead.
END OF CHAPTER