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The hallway outside the interrogation room was eerily quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights the only sound breaking the tense silence. Declan stood there, feeling the weight of the evidence he’d revealed, the weight of Agent Parker's warning, and the weight of the unknown future pressing down on him. He was about to turn and rejoin Danielle and Connor when a hand fell on his shoulder.

"Mr. Harper," Agent Parker's voice was low, almost conspiratorial. She glanced down the hallway, confirming it was empty, before gesturing toward a small, unmarked door. "A word, if you please."

Declan hesitated, his gut churning with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. He'd felt a strange pull toward Agent Parker during their interrogation, sensing a depth beneath her professional facade, a current of something unspoken running beneath her carefully chosen words. He followed her into the small room, the door closing behind them with a soft click that felt unnervingly final.

The room was dimly lit, a stark contrast to the harsh fluorescence of the hallway. A single desk cluttered with files and a lone lamp illuminating a worn leather chair created a sense of intimacy, of a space where confidences were shared and secrets revealed.

"Have a seat, Mr. Harper," Agent Parker gestured toward the chair, her tone softer now, stripped of the earlier detachment. She remained standing, her silhouette framed against the faint glow emanating from the hallway, her expression obscured by the shadows.

Declan sat, feeling the worn leather creak beneath him. The room was small, almost claustrophobic, the air thick with the scent of old paper and stale coffee, a scent that spoke of long hours and difficult decisions.

"What's this about, Agent Parker?" Declan asked, his voice low, hesitant, mirroring the dimness of the room.

Agent Parker turned, stepping into the pool of light cast by the lamp, her features coming into focus. Her eyes, usually sharp and assessing, held a weariness that Declan hadn't noticed before, a weariness that spoke of battles fought and secrets kept.

"Let's talk off the record, Mr. Harper," she said, her voice barely a whisper, as if the walls themselves might have ears. "About what you really know. About what you’re not telling me."

Declan felt a jolt of adrenaline, the feeling of being tested returning, stronger now, laced with a hint of danger. He'd sensed a current of something unspoken running beneath Agent Parker's professional facade during their interrogation, a hidden depth that both intrigued and unsettled him. Now, in the dimly lit confines of this secret room, that current felt stronger, more palpable, pulling him toward a truth he couldn't fully grasp.

He met her gaze, his own steady, refusing to back down. "What makes you think I'm not telling you everything, Agent Parker?"

A flicker of a smile played at the corners of Agent Parker's lips, a brief, almost imperceptible acknowledgment of the game they were playing. "Let's just say I have a certain… intuition, Mr. Harper. An ability to sense when someone is holding back. Especially when they've stumbled onto something they're not supposed to know."

"And what do you think I know, Agent Parker?" Declan asked, his voice steady despite the tremor of unease that ran through him.

Agent Parker stepped closer, the pool of light illuminating her face, revealing the fine lines etched around her eyes, the tension in her jaw, the weight of the secrets she carried. "More than you realize, Mr. Harper. Far more."

She leaned in, her voice barely a whisper, her words sending a chill down Declan’s spine. "You're a null, aren't you?"

Declan felt a jolt of surprise, his carefully constructed facade of composure momentarily cracking. He'd kept his unclassified status a secret, even from Danielle and Connor, but Agent Parker had seen through his carefully crafted facade.

"How did you know?" Declan asked, his voice barely a whisper, the word hanging in the air between them.

Agent Parker straightened, her gaze intense, unwavering. "Let's just say I have access to certain information, Mr. Harper. Information that suggests you're far more...unique… than you let on." She paused, letting the weight of her words settle. "And that uniqueness might be the key to unraveling this whole mess."

Declan felt a surge of unease. He had never considered his lack of preternatural ability to be anything other than… well, a lack. Now, in the dimly lit confines of this secret room, with Agent Parker’s words hanging in the air, he felt a shift in his perspective, a sudden awareness that his null status might be more significant than he had ever imagined.

"What are you suggesting, Agent Parker?" Declan asked, his voice low, cautious, mirroring the uncertain terrain they were navigating.

Agent Parker’s gaze softened, a hint of empathy replacing the earlier detachment. “I’m suggesting, Mr. Harper, that you might be the key to unlocking a door that has been sealed for a very long time. A door that leads to a truth that could expose the Kings Horn, their motives, their connections, their very foundation.” She paused, her words hanging in the air, the weight of the unspoken implications settling between them.

"But it’s also a door that could lead to something far more dangerous," she continued, her voice barely a whisper. “Something that could change everything we thought we knew about ourselves, about the world, about the very nature of reality.”

She stepped back, her silhouette merging with the shadows once more, her voice taking on a new urgency. “Be careful, Mr. Harper. The truth you seek, the truth you’re a part of, is far more powerful, far more dangerous, than you can possibly imagine."

She turned toward the door, leaving Declan alone with his thoughts, with the weight of the revelation, and with the chilling certainty that he had stepped onto a path, a path that led not just to the exposure of a conspiracy, but to the discovery of his own hidden potential, his own place in a world that was rapidly shifting, a world where the lines between human and monster were blurring, and the shadows held secrets that could both empower and destroy.

Declan stepped out of the interrogation room, his mind still reeling from Agent Parker's cryptic warning. His null status, once a source of frustration and a feeling of being ‘less than’, was now a potential key to unraveling the Kings Horn conspiracy. He joined Danielle and Connor, their faces etched with worry, in the sterile hallway of the DPA headquarters.

As they walked towards the exit, Declan recounted his unsettling conversation with Agent Parker. "She knows," he said, his voice low, the weight of the revelation heavy on his tongue. "She knows I'm unclassified."

Danielle's eyes widened in surprise. "How? What did she say?"

Declan hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. He hadn't told them about his encounter with Agent Parker in the dimly lit room, the off-the-record conversation that had left him both shaken and strangely empowered. "She didn't say how she knew," he said, choosing his words carefully. "But she implied that it might be important, that it might be connected to the Kings Horn."

Connor, ever the pragmatist, frowned. "What does she think you're going to do, Declan? Single-handedly take down the Kings Horn with your... lack of abilities?"

"I don't know," Declan admitted, his frustration growing. "She was being vague, almost cryptic. She said I might be the key to unlocking something, something dangerous, something that could change everything." He remembered Agent Parker's intense gaze, her words hanging in the air like a prophecy. "She said the truth I seek is far more powerful than I can imagine."

They stepped out of the DPA headquarters and into the cool night air. The weight of the unanswered questions, the mystery surrounding Declan's unclassified status, and the threat of the Kings Horn pressed down on them, suffocating the hope they had felt earlier.

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The drive back to Hellen was a blur of tense silence and unspoken anxieties. Connor, focused on the road, occasionally glanced at Declan in the rearview mirror, his expression a mix of concern and a grudging respect for the young reporter's tenacity. Danielle, usually a fount of questions and observations, sat quietly, her gaze lost in the passing scenery, her mind grappling with the implications of Declan's revelation.

Back at the offices of the Hellen Weekly Herald, the familiar clutter of the newsroom felt both comforting and inadequate in the face of the darkness they had encountered. Declan led Danielle and Connor to his small, cramped office, closing the door behind them, shutting out the rest of the world, creating a space where they could finally speak freely, without holding back.

"Okay," Declan said, leaning against his desk, the weight of the evidence, both physical and emotional, settling upon him. "Let's talk. No more secrets, no more holding back. What do we really think is going on here?"

Danielle, her usual fire subdued by the gravity of the situation, spoke first. "I think we've underestimated the Kings Horn. They're not just a group of fanatics, Declan. They're organized, they're powerful, and they're connected." She recalled the list of names Declan had found, the prominent figures in their community who were entangled in the Kings Horn's web of corruption. "They have people in high places, people who are willing to protect them, to cover up their crimes."

"And what about those symbols?" Connor interjected, his voice gruff, his skepticism tempered by the evidence they had gathered. "What do you make of those, Declan? You're the one who's been fixated on them."

Declan hesitated, his mind replaying the images of the symbols: the crude hunting horn scrawled at the crime scenes, the more stylized version found at the veterans' hospital, the unsettling feeling of recognition they evoked. "I don't know, Connor," he admitted. "But I think they're more than just markings. I think they're a code, a language, a way for the Kings Horn to communicate with each other, to mark their territory, to send a message."

"A message?" Danielle echoed, her brow furrowing. "What kind of message?"

"I don't know," Declan replied, his frustration growing. "But I think it's connected to… to all of this." He gestured vaguely, encompassing the evidence, the conspiracy, the chilling mystery that surrounded them. "To the creature, to the veterans' hospital, to the ley lines, to… to me."

He told them about his encounter with Agent Parker in the dimly lit room, her revelation about his unclassified status, her cryptic warning about the truth he sought [You].

"She thinks it's important," Declan said, his voice low, the weight of the implications settling upon him. "She thinks my… my nullness… might be the key to understanding what's going on."

Silence descended upon the room, heavy with the weight of the unknown. The three of them, bound by a shared purpose and a growing sense of dread, sat in the dimly lit office, the flickering light of the desk lamp casting long shadows that danced on the walls, mirroring the uncertainty that had enveloped their lives.

A knot of tension tightened in Declan's chest. He knew they needed to reach a wider audience, to bypass the potential roadblocks within the DPA, and to bring the Kings Horn's atrocities into the light. "We need someone who can amplify our message," Declan stated, pushing himself away from the desk, a newfound resolve hardening his features. "Someone who isn't afraid to challenge the status quo, someone who can hold those in power accountable."

Danielle's eyes lit up, a spark of recognition igniting in her gaze. "You mean... Assemblywoman Orlov?" she asked, her voice a hushed whisper.

Connor, his skepticism evident in the lines etched around his eyes, raised an eyebrow. "The preternatural rights advocate? You think she'll risk her career, her reputation, on a small-town newspaper's investigation?"

"We have evidence, Connor," Declan countered, tapping the folder on his desk, the weight of its contents a tangible reminder of the stakes involved. "We have proof of the Kings Horn's activities, their connections to powerful figures, their plans to exploit the Act for their own twisted agenda." He recalled the coded messages in Troy Wann's files, pointing to a U.S. Senator’s involvement with the Kings Horn. This wasn't just about local corruption; it was a conspiracy that reached the highest levels of government.

"Orlov has been pushing for transparency since day one," Danielle added, her voice gaining confidence as she spoke. "She's been calling for stricter oversight of the DPA, for investigations into the government's past experiments on preternatural citizens." She was a vocal critic of the very systems the Kings Horn sought to manipulate.

Declan nodded, his determination solidifying. They needed someone with Orlov's influence, her platform, her unwavering commitment to justice to expose the Kings Horn's atrocities. "She's our best shot, Connor," he said, meeting his editor's gaze, his voice firm. "We need to reach out to her, tell her what we know, show her the evidence."

Connor hesitated, weighing the risks against the potential rewards. He was a cautious man, but he was also a journalist, a man who believed in the power of truth to hold those in power accountable. He looked at Declan, at the fire that burned in the young reporter's eyes, and he saw a reflection of his own younger self, a reminder of the passion that had driven him to start the Hellen Weekly Herald.

"Alright, Declan," Connor said, a reluctant admiration creeping into his voice. "Do it. Reach out to Orlov. Tell her what you know. But be careful. This is dangerous territory."

Declan nodded, his hand already reaching for his phone. They were running out of time. Maddison was still missing. The Kings Horn were growing bolder. And the truth, however dangerous, had to be revealed.

He found Orlov’s contact information, a number he had obtained during a previous interview, and took a deep breath, his heart pounding with a mixture of anticipation and trepidation. He was about to step onto a larger stage, a stage where the stakes were higher, the players more powerful, and the consequences of failure far more dire.

The phone rang once, twice, then a voice, crisp and professional, answered. "Assemblywoman Orlov's office, this is Sarah speaking. How may I help you?"

"This is Declan Harper, with the Hellen Weekly Herald," Declan said, his voice steady despite the tremor of nervousness that ran through him. "I need to speak with Assemblywoman Orlov. It's… urgent."

"Please hold," Sarah replied, her voice polite but distant. Declan’s heart hammered in his chest as he waited, the silence punctuated by the faint hum of the phone line. He glanced at Danielle and Connor, their faces a mixture of hope and apprehension, mirroring his own swirling emotions. They were about to take a leap of faith, trusting that Assemblywoman Orlov, a powerful figure in Oklahoma politics, would be willing to listen to their story, to believe their evidence, and to risk her career to expose the Kings Horn’s insidious network.

After what felt like an eternity, a new voice, warm and authoritative, filled his ear. "Mr. Harper? This is Nadia Orlov. I understand you have something important to discuss?"

Declan took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation ahead. This was their chance, their opportunity to bring the Kings Horn's atrocities into the light. "Assemblywoman, thank you for taking my call. We've been investigating a series of… incidents in our town, Hellen. We believe they're connected to a group calling themselves the Kings Horn."

"The Kings Horn?" Orlov's voice took on a sharper edge. **"Those extremists? I've been monitoring their activities, Mr. Harper. Their rhetoric is dangerous, their ideology a perversion of faith." **

"It's more than just rhetoric, Assemblywoman," Declan pressed, his voice gaining urgency. "We have evidence linking them to multiple murders, to the disappearance of a local police officer, to…" He hesitated, unsure how much to reveal over the phone. "To a conspiracy that reaches far beyond Hellen."

"A conspiracy?" Orlov's tone shifted, a note of skepticism entering her voice. "Can you be more specific, Mr. Harper?"

"I can, but… it's not safe to discuss over the phone," Declan replied. "We have documents, photographs, eyewitness accounts… evidence that points to a network of corruption within the DPA, within the government itself." He thought of Troy Wann’s files, the coded messages pointing to a U.S. Senator’s involvement. [You] "This is bigger than we initially thought, Assemblywoman. This goes all the way to the top."

A tense silence settled over the line. Declan could sense Orlov's mind working, weighing his words, assessing the credibility of his claims. Her next words, spoken with a newfound gravity, echoed in the quiet of the newsroom.

"Mr. Harper, I'm intrigued, but I'm also cautious. I've built my career on advocating for preternatural rights, on exposing injustice wherever I find it. But I need more than just your word. I need proof."

"We understand, Assemblywoman," Declan said, his voice firm, his determination unwavering. "We're prepared to show you everything. We've compiled a dossier, a comprehensive report outlining our findings."

"I'm listening," Orlov said, her voice taking on a sharper edge, a hint of steel beneath the warmth.

"We're requesting a meeting, Assemblywoman," Declan continued, choosing his words carefully. "A secure location, away from prying eyes, where we can present our findings without fear of reprisal." He remembered Agent Parker’s cryptic warning, the lurking danger that seemed to follow them like a shadow. They couldn’t afford to be reckless, to underestimate the Kings Horn’s reach.

Orlov was silent for a moment, then her voice, firm and decisive, cut through the tension. "Very well, Mr. Harper. I'll arrange a meeting. My assistant will contact you with the details. Until then, stay safe."

The line went dead, leaving a ringing silence in its wake. Declan lowered the phone, his hand trembling slightly. He had taken a leap of faith, had reached out to a powerful figure, a potential ally in their fight against the Kings Horn. But whether Assemblywoman Orlov would believe their story, whether she would risk her career to expose the truth, remained to be seen.

A mixture of hope and trepidation filled the air as Declan met Danielle and Connor's gazes. They had taken a gamble, had placed their trust in a stranger, had set in motion a chain of events that could either lead to justice or plunge them deeper into the heart of the conspiracy.

The silence in the newsroom was broken by Connor's gruff voice, a hint of admiration softening his usual skepticism. "Well, Declan, you've done it now. You've thrown down the gauntlet." He paused, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint. "Let's hope Orlov's got the stomach for a fight."