The fortress of the Tien Tao Rioters stood as an unshakeable pillar of Southern culture and history, its roots deeper than the birth of Dongism itself. Its original construction sought to create an unofficial second capital of Kowloon, rivalling the mighty palace of the Kingmakers in district Yu. Fort Ho Man Ting was meant to be a symbol of defiance against northerners who looked, spoke, and thought differently.

With Dong’s rise to prophethood, the fortress’ focus shifted from being a bastion of war into a spiritual stronghold. Where artillery once stood ready, the courtyard became a temple to the Light, opening its gates for the weekly congregational prayers. Prayers in classical Yue etched its once-bland walls. For the Tien Tao, defending Ho Man Ting from warring invaders and protecting the Southern faith from foreign, northern secularism and influence became a single, unyielding battle.

Tao knew that no matter how close any Kingmaker got to the Rioters, one truth remained: this fortress was built to stand against people like him and Yutai. Guns or words, power or belief — this place would always be a rival to their tower and authority, an eternal divide that time could never erase.

The two Kingmakers followed behind Hung, a senior Rioter in the Tien Tao ranks and an old acquaintance of Yutai’s. But since their conversation about Anju’s spear, Hung’s enthusiasm for the tour had dwindled. His once-frequent historical titbits about the fort became fewer, and it soon became clear he was eager to wrap things up.

But as they ventured deeper into the fort and towards the dorms, Tao’s sense of unease grew. He could not shake off the feeling that they were being watched. The same faces seemed to walk past every now and then. Doors quietly shut as they walked past, eyes averted, yet gazes lingering on their backs. Tao tried to push the unsettling thoughts aside and reminded himself there was nothing they would dare do.

The trio came upon a fork in the hallways. Without hesitation, Hung led the Kingmakers to the right.

‘What’s down the other way?’ Yutai asked casually.

Hung’s steps slowed for a moment. ‘The detention level. Those we can’t keep with the general population prisoners come here.’

‘Could we perhaps take a look?’ Yutai asked, his eyes flicking briefly to Tao, a silent question hanging between them.

Tao caught the signal. Yutai wants to see if they’re holding any Yang prisoners. Clever. Tao gave a subtle nod of approval to him.

But Hung hesitated, unease creeping into his expression. ‘The prisons are off-limits. We don’t house petty criminals, you’ll find individuals who pose unique threats to Ho Man Ting. War criminals, political terrorists, cult leaders, undocumented migrants from the Wildlands. Even low-ranking Rioters aren’t allowed down there.’

‘But we’re not low-ranking Rioters,’ Tao countered, his tone measured but pressing. ‘Between us Kingmakers and you Rioters, there aren’t any secrets to keep. We’re leading the fight against the most dangerous political terrorists in Kowloon, like the Yang. One glance won’t hurt, will it?’

Hung’s unease deepened and his posture stiffened. ‘If it’s the Yang you’re wondering about, you’ll find none here. They’re sent to the local maximum-security detention centre. Regardless, our policies are strict. I ask that you respect them.’

Yutai frowned, his voice hardening. ‘But you just said this place holds political prisoners and terrorists. What do you call the Yang?’

Hung swung his head towards Yutai, a frown creasing his face. The tempo of his speech quickened. ‘Of course they’re terrorists. But if we held every Yang we captured in the fort dungeons, we’d run out of cells. So we keep them with the general population.’

Tao’s eyes narrowed. Something isn’t adding up. ‘Run out of cells? Just how many Yangs have you guys managed to arrest? Since Operation Searchlight, we’ve hardly caught any. Seems like you guys have something figured that we haven’t.’

Hung’s reply was quick, almost too quick. ‘Ho Man Ting is the South’s capital. Thousands of Southerners cross our borders everyday for work, so it’s only natural Yang activity is more frequent.’

Tao studied Hung’s face, weighing the lie between his words. A little too rehearsed.

Sensing the conversation had hit a wall, Tao wished to end the conversation. ‘Well, seeing as we haven’t heard of any of these arrests, you’d best start reporting your numbers to the Tower. It’d be good to interrogate a few of these Yangs.’

Hung nodded and resumed walking towards the dorms, his footsteps faster now, his discomfort evident. Yutai brushed against Tao’s arm, the nudge barely noticeable but loaded with meaning.

Yes, Yutai, Tao thought to himself, that sounded odd to me, too.

The three walked past different branching corridors and none looked different from the last. That was until one of the corridors looked to have walls painted in vivid shades of blue.

‘Hey, Hung?’ Yutai called out. The Rioter almost didn’t hear him — or at least pretended not to — until Yutai called out a second time, but this time, with less patience in his voice.

‘Hung. I’m calling you.’

The Rioter stopped and turned around. ‘Did you have a question to ask?’

‘I saw a corridor just now with blue walls. What’s down that way?’

‘Our communication centre. It’s the nerve for all intelligence we gather around Ho Man Ting.’

Yutai and Tao shared looks again. That’s where we need to be, Tao thought to Yutai. No doubt he understood exactly what Tao was thinking.

****

Cheng hadn’t noticed when they’d entered an apartment complex, but as soon as he saw unit numbers on doors, he knew the Yang base wasn’t far. Scornful eyes followed the Kingmakers since they got off the King Rail at the Yau Embassy, but Cheng adjusted to this sensation by now.

The two Rioters halted in front of a door marked “352.” The rest stood around it, waiting for instruction.

‘Well? Is this it?’ Jin groused.

‘Yes, give us a moment to unlock it,’ one of the Rioters responded from behind his full-face shield. He walked towards the door.

‘Hold on,’ Han interrupted, blocking the Rioter’s approach. ‘I’m not comfortable heading into enemy territory blind. You mentioned booby traps. What kind are we dealing with exactly?’

‘The Southern kind — collapsible floors, kinetic spikes, upturned sharpened rods meant to leave you with a lifelong limp.’ The Rioter almost sounded proud of it. Cheng recalled from his academy days that these traps were notorious, used by Southern rebels during the Rebellions. Imagining the pain these traps inflicted upon invading northerners was something often brought up with satisfaction around Southern dinner tables.

‘Great,’ Han said, still holding the armoured Rioter in place with his palm. ‘So, what’s our strategy for combing through these traps? Are we your disposable lives?’ He attempted to look into the Rioter’s eyes behind the face shield. Rioters were tall, but Han’s stature matched.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

‘Not at all,’ the Rioter replied smoothly. ‘We’ve got floor plans for this base. They’re 30 annui-cycles out of date, but it’s better than nothing. We’ll lead the way, room by room, until the area is secure.’

‘That sounds way too simple,’ Han said. ‘I didn’t think the famously conservative Mr Enji would risk sending a Rioter Cavalry Officer into the field for some back-shelf recon job.’

‘Alright guys, let’s cut the skeptic detective act,’ Keung said, glancing at the Tai Li. ‘We’re wasting time.’

‘Cheng,’ Han pressed, ‘aren’t you the least bit concerned? You’ve got the Emperor’s nephew walking into a booby-trapped base, relying solely on the “trust me” of these Southerners.’

There was a brief pause. ‘Maybe we should send drones in first?’ Keung suggested as he turned to face Cheng.

‘I’m not trekking back to the Tower just for that,’ he replied. ‘Let’s just get this done, if General Denzhen was okay with sending his son, I don’t know what I’ve got to worry about.’

****

The tour continued as the three approached the dorms. Large windows lined the right-hand wall of the hallway, through which Tao glimpsed rows of four-tiered bunks, nearly every one occupied by a sleeping Rioter. ‘The dorm entrance is just ahead,’ Hung said, gesturing towards a closed door at the end of the hallway.

But just as they stood before and Hung swiped his key to open the door, Yutai’s holocommunicator on his wrist rang. Both Hung and Tao turned to see Yutai staring at the holographic display above his wrist, his brow furrowed. Tao couldn’t help but wonder who was calling this late.

‘It’s…’ Yutai hesitated, disbelief flickering across his face. ‘It’s Emperor Puyin…’

Tao’s eyes widened. ‘The Emperor? Quickly, answer it — could be urgent.’

The Rioter froze, caught off guard, clearly realising the weight of a call from the Emperor of Kowloon.

‘I’ll need to take this, Hung,’ Yutai said, glancing at him. ‘Mind if I step into the hallway while you grab the key? Can’t have listeners.’

Hung squinted at Yutai, then gave a slow nod. ‘Just…don’t wander far.’

He nodded back, swiped the call open, and swiftly disappeared down the corridor, vanishing around the bend.

‘Follow me, I’ll grab the key and we’ll wait for Yutai to return,’ Hung instructed Tao.

They stepped through the door and into the dorms. Inside was dim but not pitch black, illuminated by dull blueish lamp lights bathing the dormitory in a dark blue glow. The soft hum of ceiling fans and the chorus of snores tugged at Tao’s weariness.

‘There are a few more dorm rooms, but this is the largest one. My bunk is just a few rows down. The keys to the dojos should be in my drawer. Tread lightly,’ he cautioned with a hush. ‘And be careful not to bump into the beds. We sleep light.’

Tao followed Hung to one of the bunks. The top three tiers had Rioters sleeping, but the bottom one—where Hung presumably slept— was empty. Hung opened a side drawer to the right of the bed, picked up his key, and closed it. They slowly made their way out of the dorm rooms and waited by the door for Yutai’s return.

‘How was the fort during the rebellions?’ Tao asked.

‘You guys should know. There was no lack of effort to capture the fort. So it must’ve been something important.’

‘Very,’ Tao nodded. ‘In hindsight, I’m relieved we couldn’t capture it. This fort is so much more than a place for war. It’s become a temple to the Light. We Central Kowlooni’s are no spiritual caretakers like you guys are. Have you seen Central Kowlooni daoyinbo’s? Central temples of Light pale in comparison to the grand structures you all build down South. We have no right watching over this fort. Better off in Southern hands.’

For the first time during the tour, Hung’s stern expression softened.

‘During the height of the Rebellions,’ Hung began, ‘this stronghold was a sanctuary for civilians. When glide-bombers loomed over Ho Man Ting, a single siren would wail from the fort that could be heard all the way to the district borders. The gates would gape open for as many citizens possible to seek refuge within our walls. Older Rioters have told me how back then, any space available would be completely used for the refugees. Even the toilet floors became places of rest.’

‘I can imagine how scared those Southerners would have been. It wasn’t the glide-bombers though. Their impact was felt only by those on the topmost floors of groundscrapers. For the vast majority living below the terraces, a glide-bomb’s detonation was barely a tremor. The real fear was the dread of the allied Kingmaker gangs sweeping through the streets, moving from groundscraper to another, looting, shooting and raping whatever they wished. I am glad the fort could become a mighty shield for your people.’

‘My people…unfortunately, I don’t have the pleasure to claim Southern heritage as my own. I am a native of Sung Wong…just like Yutai. For all I know, my grandfather may have killed many Southerners during his draft. I was merely raised in this culture, and have been generously accepted among them.’

There was a pause between the two, processing the conversation that saw more common ground than either thought.

‘Yutai…has he changed much since you two were kids?’ Tao asked.

Hung’s gaze was distant as if sifting through memories. ‘Yutai? I remember him always being the heart of any gathering, drawing both laughter and sighs in equal measure.’

‘Then he has hardly changed since his childhood. He’s blissfully naive about the world he lives in. He sees the South as just another region of Kowloon, no different from the West or the North. He doesn’t understand the nuances of this post-war society we’re now living in, where we all resent each other for complex reasons. But you know, despite his antics, there’s a dangerously sharp mind in there, thirsting to do the right thing. Always thinking, always planning for a way forward.’

Hung met Tao’s gaze. ‘Oh, you don’t have to remind me. The way you two are looking around the fort, it’s like I’ve invited my enemies to study our stronghold for battle. But I guess that’s just how the mind of a Kingmaker operates. Always in the pursuit of knowledge.’

Hung’s words were brooding, chilling, and foreboding, and Tao felt the room grow colder. Beneath the restrained words, Tao sensed the veiled threat of Hung growing suspicious towards their presence here in the fort.

Tao, realising the precariousness of his position, held his tongue.

****

I can’t believe that worked, Yutai thought, retracing his steps to the blue corridor he saw earlier — the one leading to the Tien Tao communication centre. The audacity of what he just did to get away — to fake a call from the Emperor himself — was classic Yutai, a masterclass in improvisation.

His rubber-soled boots made almost no sound as he sprinted through the dimly lit halls. Voices grew louder from a corridor to his left — Rioters approaching. Without missing a beat, Yutai darted ahead, slipping around a corner before they could see him. Pressed against the wall, he held his breath until the voices faded into the distance.

His heart pounded in his chest as he navigated the maze of corridors. Every distant echo or murmur had him diving into shadows, waiting for the threat to pass.

At last, the blue-painted hallway appeared before him. The double doors at its end loomed large as he cautiously approached it with a zip to his heel. He pressed his ear against the cold surface of the locked door, straining to hear any sign of life from the other side.

Good, he thought. I can plant the wire in peace.

This door wasn’t guarding just any room; it was the very heart of the fort’s communications. Behind it lay the potential to expose the deepest secrets, to reveal whether the Tien Tao Rioters were truly in league with the Yang, or if they were genuinely blindsided that fateful night in Ho Man Ting Square. Whatever answer was behind the door may change the course of their fight against the Yang.

His eyes narrowed at the door’s lock—magnetic seals. These were the tightest form of security one could have put on doors.

But Yutai had an ace up his sleeve, a tool only bestowed upon a select few Kingmakers after the short-lived yet groundbreaking Kingmaker Cybernetic Initiative. With this, even the most formidable magnetic seal would be child’s play.

Glancing at his right hand, Yutai began to vigorously massage the base of his palm with his left thumb. The pressure was meant to stimulate blood flow, activating the primitive cybernetic implant nestled beneath his skin. Each press left a pale imprint that quickly flushed with red as blood rushed back in. The device was rudimentary, offering no indication of its activation. He could only trust in the process and hope for the best.

The sound of distant footsteps startled Yutai, indicating an incoming patrol about to cross the doors. Urgency gripped him. He hovered the base of his palm over the door’s midsection, yet no sound of the locks opening. He tried near the bottom. Still nothing. Desperation mounting, he moved to the top. Nothing again.

Maybe the blood flow didn’t activate it.

He pressed his thumb harder into his palm, willing the implant to respond. He felt the bones in his palm shift as he demanded the implant activate.

The footsteps grew closer, their rhythm quickening Yutai’s heartbeat. In a last-ditch effort, he swept his hand across all three points once more.

click. click…click.

The door whispered open, revealing a void of darkness. Without hesitation, Yutai slipped inside, his fingers instinctively finding a button on the adjacent wall to seal the door behind him. The door slid shut with a soft hiss, plunging him into an abyss void of light.

Every sense heightened, Yutai pressed himself against the cold wall, his breath held captive. The muffled footsteps he’d been dreading passed by, their echo growing fainter until they were swallowed by the distance. A silent exhale of relief escaped him.

He was deep within the heart of the fort. Activating his visor light, a soft cool-white glow illuminated the vast, chilled room through the edge of his officer’s cap. The hum of the air-conditioning was the only sound. All he could do now was trust that Tao was keeping Hung distracted long enough for him to complete his mission.