Chapter 2: The First Lie
Amara couldn't shake the feeling that the room had shifted. Shadows in the corners seemed deeper, the air heavier, and her thoughts sharper than ever before. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, poised to finish the article that had brought her to this precipice.
She reread the opening line: "Echelon Industries has constructed its empire on a foundation of lies, exploitation, and blood."
But now, something whispered in her mind—a suggestion, a nudge. She hesitated before typing the next sentence. When the words came, they flowed as if from somewhere else, threading through her thoughts like silk:
"Sources inside Echelon claim their CEO orchestrated the disappearance of whistleblowers, ensuring their silence with bribes, threats, and worse."
She froze. That was a lie. She hadn't confirmed it, had no source to verify it. But as she read it back, it didn't feel like a fabrication. It felt real—solid. More than that, it felt true.
Her chest tightened. Had Lyar already begun to influence her?
---
The next morning, the article went live.
Amara expected the usual barrage of emails and calls—praise from readers, outrage from the accused, and cautious queries from her editor. Instead, the reaction was immediate and visceral. Within hours, news outlets were running her story. Social media erupted with outrage. Echelon's stocks plummeted as anonymous sources surfaced, corroborating her claims.
It was as if the world believed her words so deeply that they became reality.
---
In a towering skyscraper far across the city, Echelon's CEO, Victor Halstead, leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on a monitor displaying Amara's article. His jaw clenched as he read the damning accusations.
"Who's the source?" he barked at his aide.
"No one we can track," the aide replied, nervous. "But…there's something strange. People inside the company are starting to talk. They're saying things that align with the article—things they've never said before."
Halstead frowned. "Find this journalist. Shut her down."
---
Amara was oblivious to the chaos she had unleashed. She sat in her apartment, staring at her laptop screen as emails flooded in. Her editor, ecstatic, demanded a follow-up. Readers shared personal stories of Echelon's wrongdoings.
But beneath the euphoria, unease lingered. She hadn't had a single credible source for those claims, and yet the world was treating them as undeniable truth.
"Enjoying your gift?"
The voice made her jump. She turned to see a figure standing in the corner of her living room. He was tall and impossibly elegant, his form shifting subtly like smoke caught in moonlight. His eyes glowed faintly, silver and sharp.
"Lyar," she whispered.
He inclined his head. "You used my gift well. The lie has already taken root."
"I didn't mean to lie," she said defensively. "It just… came out."
"And look at the results." Lyar gestured toward her laptop, where notifications continued to ping. "Mortals believe what they want to believe. All I did was help your words find fertile ground."
Amara stood, her fists clenched. "But it's not true. None of it is true."
"Truth is a malleable thing, Amara," Lyar said, his tone patient. "Tell a lie with conviction, and it becomes indistinguishable from reality. That is the essence of my power."
She shook her head. "This isn't what I wanted. If they find out—"
"They won't," he interrupted, his voice low and dangerous. "Not unless you falter. Doubt is the only thing that can unravel your work. Hold firm, and the lie will thrive."
Amara sank into her chair, her mind spinning. "Why are you doing this? What do you get out of it?"
Lyar smiled, a cold and enigmatic expression. "Every lie you tell feeds me. Every deception strengthens my essence. But more importantly, I enjoy watching mortals dance on the edge of truth and falsehood. It's… entertaining."
---
By evening, Amara's article had sparked investigations, protests, and a media frenzy. She should have felt triumphant. Instead, she felt trapped.
The lie had taken on a life of its own, and she couldn't control it.
Lyar's words echoed in her mind: Hold firm, and the lie will thrive.
But what would it cost her?