The aftermath of the battle weighed heavily on the camp. Smoke still lingered in the air, mixing with the metallic scent of blood and the bitter tang of scorched earth. The night had been long, and though they had driven back the enforcers, the victory felt hollow. Too many lives had been lost, and the camp was barely holding together.
Enno stood at the edge of the camp, staring out into the horizon. His body ached from the battle, but it was the weight on his mind that wore him down the most. They had survived the first wave, but how long could they continue like this? Valtoria would return, and when they did, the resistance would face an even greater challenge.
Senna approached, her steps quiet but purposeful. She had barely slept since the battle, and her face showed the signs of exhaustion. But there was something else in her eyes—something that worried Enno.
"We need to talk," she said, her voice low and serious.
Enno turned to her, his brow furrowed. "What's wrong?"
Senna glanced around, as if making sure no one was listening. "There's been talk among the fighters. Rumors."
"About what?" Enno asked, though he already had an idea.
"About a spy," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. "Someone's been feeding Valtoria information. That's how they knew about the raid, how they knew where to hit us."
Enno felt a chill run down his spine. He had suspected as much, but hearing it from Senna made it real. Someone in their ranks was betraying them, and that betrayal had cost them lives.
"We need to find out who it is," Enno said, his voice hardening. "Before they can do any more damage."
Senna nodded. "I've already started looking into it, but we have to be careful. If the wrong person finds out, it could tear the camp apart."
Enno clenched his fists, the frustration boiling inside him. They were already fighting against impossible odds, and now they had to deal with betrayal from within.
"I'll help you," he said. "We'll find them."
A Camp on Edge
The tension in the camp had been growing since the battle, and now, with the whispers of a spy circulating, it was reaching a breaking point. The fighters were on edge, their trust in each other fraying as the reality of the situation set in. Every conversation was guarded, every glance suspicious. The sense of camaraderie that had once held the resistance together was slowly unraveling.
Enno moved through the camp, observing the fighters as they went about their tasks. There was an uneasiness in the air, a sense that something was about to break. He knew that if they didn't find the spy soon, the entire resistance could fall apart from within.
He found Daron near one of the supply tents, sharpening his blade. The older fighter had been with the resistance for longer than most, and his steady presence had always been a source of strength for the younger recruits. But even Daron seemed more distant now, his usual calm replaced by a quiet intensity.
"We can't let this go on much longer," Enno said as he approached.
Daron glanced up, his expression grim. "I know. The men are getting restless. They don't know who to trust anymore."
Enno nodded, his thoughts racing. "Senna and I are looking into it. We'll find out who's behind this."
Daron didn't respond immediately. Instead, he continued sharpening his blade, the sound of metal against stone filling the silence between them. Finally, he spoke.
"You'd better do it fast," he said quietly. "Before this place tears itself apart."
Suspicions
As the day wore on, Enno and Senna began their investigation. It wasn't easy—trust had been shaken, and few fighters were willing to talk openly. But there were a few leads, whispers of strange behavior or unexplained absences. Enno couldn't afford to jump to conclusions, but the pressure was mounting.
That evening, as the camp settled into a tense quiet, Enno sat with Senna near the fire, reviewing the information they had gathered.
"There's one name that keeps coming up," Senna said, her voice hushed. "Teris."
Enno's brow furrowed. Teris was one of the younger fighters, a recruit who had joined the resistance after hearing about the raid on the energy station. He had been eager to prove himself, but now there were whispers that he had been acting strangely—disappearing for long periods, asking too many questions about the resistance's movements.
"We can't accuse him without proof," Enno said, though his mind was already turning over the possibilities. If Teris was the spy, how long had he been feeding information to Valtoria? And why?
"I know," Senna replied, her eyes dark with worry. "But we need to watch him closely. If he's the one, we can't let him do any more damage."
Enno nodded, his mind heavy with the weight of their situation. Trust was a fragile thing, and in times like these, even the slightest crack could bring everything crashing down.
Confrontation
Over the next few days, Enno kept a close eye on Teris, watching for any sign that the young fighter might be working against them. It wasn't easy—Teris was good at blending in, at acting like he was just another soldier fighting for the cause. But Enno could feel the tension building, the suspicion gnawing at him.
Finally, one night, after a long day of preparations, Enno found Teris slipping away from the camp. It was subtle—he had made sure no one was watching, his movements careful and deliberate. But Enno had been waiting for this moment, and he followed quietly, staying in the shadows as Teris moved through the forest.
They reached a secluded clearing, and Enno's heart raced as he saw Teris stop and pull out a small device—something Enno had only seen Valtoria's enforcers use. It was a communications device.
Enno stepped forward, his weapon drawn. "Teris."
The young fighter froze, the color draining from his face as he turned to face Enno. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable.
"Enno… I—"
"You've been feeding them information," Enno said, his voice cold. "How long?"
Teris took a step back, his hands trembling. "I… I didn't have a choice. They threatened my family. If I didn't do what they said, they would have killed them."
Enno's jaw tightened. He had expected betrayal, but hearing it confirmed still sent a wave of anger through him. "So you sold us out? How many people died because of you?"
Tears welled up in Teris's eyes as he dropped the device. "I didn't want to! I never meant for it to go this far. But they wouldn't let me stop. They kept asking for more, and I couldn't… I couldn't stop."
Enno stepped closer, his weapon still raised. His mind raced with conflicting emotions—anger, betrayal, and a deep sense of frustration. He had trusted Teris, and that trust had been shattered.
"What do you want me to do, Teris?" Enno asked, his voice hard. "I can't let you go back to camp. You've put us all in danger."
Teris dropped to his knees, his hands shaking. "Please, Enno. I didn't want this. I never wanted this. Just… just let me leave. I'll disappear. You'll never see me again."
Enno hesitated, his weapon still pointed at Teris. He knew what Senna would say—Teris couldn't be trusted. He had betrayed them once, and he would do it again if given the chance. But looking into Teris's eyes, seeing the fear and desperation, Enno felt a flicker of doubt.
Could he really take this man's life?
A Hard Decision
Enno lowered his weapon, though his expression remained cold. "Get out of here. And if I ever see you again, I won't hesitate."
Teris looked up, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Thank you. Thank you, Enno."
Without another word, Teris turned and ran into the forest, disappearing into the darkness. Enno stood there for a long time, his heart heavy with the weight of the decision he had just made.
When he returned to the camp, Senna was waiting for him. She looked at him, her eyes filled with questions, but she didn't say anything.
"It's done," Enno said quietly.
Senna nodded, though her expression was unreadable. "We'll need to be more careful. Valtoria won't stop."
"I know," Enno replied, though his mind was still racing. They had removed the threat, but the cracks in the resistance were growing. And with every step they took, Valtoria was waiting, watching.