A few days after they interviewed Atbin Siyal, Ruban and Simani found themselves escorting Dhriti Pathak from her home to the IAW headquarters.

It was just past noon, and the SUV was crowded with political aides and security personnel. The sun blazed down on them, the car’s air conditioning struggling to combat the oppressive heat.

Dhriti Pathak occupied the middle row of seats in the SUV, flanked by an aide on either side. Ruban and Simani claimed the back seats, both armed and on high alert.

Their mission was twofold: guarding Dhriti against any external threat – be it human or Aeriel. While also preventing her from bolting to the nearest airport, in a bid to flee the country, or at least the capital city.

Dhriti’s political connections were still too powerful for her to be arrested outright. And she constantly leveraged her wealth and influence to impede the investigation.

Fed up with her antics, Defence Minister Rifaq Nazir had finally placed Dhriti under temporary house arrest. Until the investigation into the leaked videos could be concluded. She’d also been suspended from her position as senior secretary of defence. Despite that, she still had enough loyalists within the Department of Defence to wreak havoc from afar, even when she wasn’t physically present.

Days of tense negotiations had culminated in Dhriti agreeing to a face-to-face interview – not quite an interrogation, but a chance for the Hunter Corps and the IAW leadership to get some answers. The meeting was set to take place in less than an hour, at the IAW headquarters.

The SUV moved slowly. Not due to heavy traffic, but to maintain pace with the two identical vehicles traveling with them. One in front and the other behind. A journey that usually took less than forty minutes had already stretched well over an hour, and their destination remained stubbornly out of sight.

Bored, Ruban pulled out his phone and opened the video streaming app.

He could’ve been polite, connected the phone to his earbuds. But he didn’t care enough. He wanted Dhriti to hear what was being said about her; feel the sting of public scrutiny and ridicule. He wanted her aides to hear it, too.

Riding the wave of public outrage and sympathy that followed her dismissal from WNN, Casia Washi had landed a prime-time slot at Skyline News. Desperate for a taste of her magic touch, news outlets of all stripes tripped over themselves to offer her a job, prompting a bidding war.

Casia brought along some of her most trusted colleagues from WNN to her new position at Skyline. This was a fledgling network, hungry for a foothold in the industry. She had one reason for choosing it over more established networks that offered bigger paychecks – editorial control.

At Skyline News, Casia launched her new show with a barrage of criticism aimed at Tej Enterprises and Dhriti Pathak. After spending months chafing under WNN’s corporate leash, she was finally free. The gloves were off. Calls for Dhriti's resignation as senior secretary of defence became her nightly war cry. She released documents exposing HAVA’s funding from offshore shell companies linked to Tej Enterprises, either through direct ownership or legal sleight of hand.

She claimed she’d stumbled across the documents when visiting the HAVA headquarters for their much-publicized interview. That she’d only waited to release the information until it was fully authenticated, refusing to propagate fake news.

The public watched, enthralled, as Casia wielded her newfound editorial freedom like a sword. With each broadcast, her audience grew. Drawn to her firebrand rhetoric of speaking truth to power; but also to the sheer, entertaining audacity of her attacks.

Ruban started playing Casia’s latest video, which had already amassed over a million views just hours after its release. “Pressure mounts on Dhriti Pathak to resign from her post as senior secretary of defence.” Casia's voice rang out from the phone screen, accompanied by dramatic music. “Yet she remains stubbornly resistant, clinging to power despite the damning evidence piling against her as we speak.”

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Ruban cranked up the volume on his phone, ignoring the outraged glances from Dhriti’s aides. “This only lends credence to the speculation that it was Dhriti Pathak who leaked the graphic footage of Prince Shwaan in the clutches of the Qawirsin, which has ignited national and international outrage.” Casia’s voice grew more intense, each word calculated to escalate tension. “If she’s innocent, why not step down gracefully and let the investigation take its course? Instead of using her position to obstruct and influence the process?”

Inside the stifling confines of the SUV, Dhriti fumed silently as her aides exchanged nervous glances. A few of the security personnel strained to hear the damning broadcast over the hum of the struggling air conditioner.

“After all,” Casia continued, voice sharp and unrelenting. “The Qawirsin was dismantled by the Hunter Corps last year. Janak Nath is dead. And most of his former gang members are either dead or in prison. So, who is left? Someone with access to Janak Nath’s sadistic torture videos, who benefits from the chaos and controversy surrounding their current release. How many people can you think of who fit that bill? Personally, I could count them on one hand with fingers to spare.”

Chaos and controversy those videos had indeed generated. There was no doubting that. The latest two made the first one look like a picnic, being ten times as brutal, as graphic. It was almost like the release of the first video had been a warning. One which had gone unheeded by its intended target, prompting a far more savage follow-up.

What Dhriti had expected the outcome of her actions to be, Ruban didn’t know. Perhaps she hoped the relentless stream of abasing brutality would erode Ashwin’s public image, turning people against the Aeriel Prince, and against the Vaan alliance by extension.

Whether this strategy would bear fruit in the long run remained to be seen. In terms of immediate effect, however, the videos had served only to dig Dhriti’s own grave in the court of public opinion.

Even those who viewed the victim with contempt still despised the perpetrator. They might look down on Ashwin for succumbing to Janak’s sadistic depravity, but those same people held even greater disdain for those who orchestrated and disseminated the footage of that depravity.

Although Dhriti wasn’t the one personally torturing Ashwin in the videos, her unrelenting bid to humiliate him painted her as the villain, the perpetrator, in the public imagination. Ironically, this strengthened the pro-alliance faction. Because nobody wanted to be seen siding with the perpetrator against the victim, no matter how harshly they judged Ashwin themselves.

Eyes trained on his phone, Ruban watched as Casia leaned into the camera, her voice sharp and predatory. “It stands to reason that whoever leaked the videos must have had close dealings with Janak Nath during the Qawirsin’s heyday. How else could they’ve gotten access to that footage?” She inhaled deeply, before continuing. “And many of Ragah’s biggest feather refineries worked extensively with Janak Nath until his death last year. That’s been proven beyond a doubt. Because the mafia couldn’t have flooded the black market with illegally obtained Aeriel feathers so quickly, without at least some support from the refineries.”

She spent a couple of minutes detailing the exact quantities of illegal Aeriel feathers processed through Ragah’s refineries, providing official estimates for each month of the previous year.

“While the official investigators haven’t reached a definitive conclusion yet,” Casia continued. “There has been a huge outcry from the public against some well-known refineries, including Tej Enterprises.”

Amused, Ruban made note of the fact that Tej Enterprises was the only refinery she singled out by name. It was subtle, but she had planted a seed that would shift her viewers’ perception ever so slightly, without them ever realizing it.

“But while it may seem premature,” Casia said. “The refineries deserve the backlash if they really were conspiring with the mafia. Not for their role in illegally refining Aeriel feathers, which would’ve been bad enough. But, more importantly, for their involvement in the creation and dissemination of torture videos for private consumption, which are only now being leaked to the public. Anyone profiting from such a heinous crime deserves a life sentence, at the very least.”

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the surrounding security personnel. Out of the corner of his eye, Ruban noticed one of Dhriti’s aides subconsciously nodding along to Casia’s tirade.

Casia’s unrelenting voice continued: “But with Dhriti Pathak stubbornly clinging to her seat at the Department of Defence, the investigation into the—”

The world lurched violently. Ruban’s head snapped back against the headrest, the phone slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor.