“Right this way, sir.”

“Fucking finally.” Slicking his greying hair back, Administrative Officer Polk of the OMFS stepped into a darkened hallway that was only lit by a small amount of sunlight that broke through windows no larger than a brick. He wore a scowl and his hands clenched as he walked down the darkened place with a single naval officer that was acting as his escort.

A fair amount of time had passed since he was wrapped into the “Yondel” case. Over twenty agents and five officers directed the investigation of the eight individuals suddenly let into the country by their government; the very same people that had caused the deaths of over 300 people within the confines of the Frontier. To be fair those agents did have a right to self-defense considering that those sent would’ve been ‘invading’ the Kingdom of Yondel, yet it bugged him to no end that they were allowed to walk away Scott-free and even allowed to join the very organization that was investigating them.

Reaching a single cell at the end of the hall, Officer Polk felt a bubbly and warm feeling surfacing. Taking a foldable metal chair that was leaning against the wall, he sat in front of the person within the cell and stared gathering all sorts of information that he would enjoy playing around with. The person inside sat silently on his bed looking down at the ground, his bald head was the only thing that stood out immediately, yet his rough and dirt prison clothes, worn and tired face, and tired expression told the officer everything he needed to know, and how to proceed with this delicate situation that changed the very state of the Federation. “Brother, it’s me.”

The man inside the cell shifted.

As the world continued to move on, no matter what happened, Officer Polk silently went over the plan he was given less than ten hours before. Air Major Renard had chosen to launch a mission at o-five-hundred hours, and under the strict supervision of Secretary of Defense, Sullivan Falk, thirteen MR-5 strike fighters took to the air to expose and exploit a critical weakness found by agent of the NIA in the Kingdom of Yondel. Currently, the fighters were racing in formation; they were launched from the coastal city of Porleta, and at three hundred miles out from the objective, waited for the moment to complete a mid-air refuel before marching upon the target. Members of the 42nd Airborne Regiment and 21st National Border Guards (NBG) waited for the moment to perform battle damage assessment from their observation posts in a nearby mountain.

The man inside the cell noticed Officer Polk’s silence, after all it would be hard to ignore your own brother when he is separated behind metal bars. Of course, he too was privy to such information of an attack, sitting at fifteen thousand feet was thirteen aircraft carrying over 400 pounds worth of bombs and explosive munitions. Though their mission would not achieve the primary objective—they were a faint for a larger campaign that was being spearheaded by the Federation Navy.

Officer Polk loved his brothers-in-arms within the aviation units, they were his true family, not this sad piece of skin and bones looking at him from the shadows. The planes he once flew held speed and maneuverability, nothing like the cramped and restrictive hallway he sat in looking at someone who could never reach the sky in the first place.

Though his mind shouldn’t get distracted. He had a different mission compared to the flyboy’s that were on their way to change history. The 21st NBG had requested the NIA to investigate a possible suspect behind the attacks within the Federation’s capital, and their evidence had paid dividends into making over twelve arrests all around the country. The collection of evidence had been proceeding smoothly, yet finally, the OMFS had reached a roadblock that could no longer be fixed with the testimonies of the eight agents that they just so happened to need…

It bothered him, how the Federation was placing all their coins on the eight foreigners…

He paid no mind—indeed, their testimonies would be plentiful to convicting the true suspect behind the attack. There was no doubting that. For now, it would be best to complete his mission, that’s all he was good at after all.

The briefing he received came from none other than the naval officer standing an appropriate distance from him. Military Police owned by the navy had arrested his brother, that much was enough to alarm both himself and the OMFS that the primary suspect was up to something, and a recurring theory around his office gave way to the idea that the main perpetrator was getting rid of his pawns in an unusual way. The theory was to much, and Officer Polk gripped his head as anger flooded his body. Whoever attacked the Federation was getting bold, to bold, but eventually the investigators would catch onto the attacker’s crummy fingers that slowly left a trail. Eyes were everywhere, and it would be impossible to escape at this point.

Not wanting to waste any more time dwelling over his orders, Officer Polk removed a small bock from his coat and placed it on the ground. What he had removed was a radio connected to the current mission being carried out over 500 miles away. He activated the radio and static filled the air. His brother fully picked up his head as he listened to the white noise.

“-Refueler is bearing zero-two-eight, range ten miles. Course set to one-five-seven, speed sixteen knots.”

Sitting inside the cell, the man did not want to acknowledge the transmission made over the encrypted radio. As the pilots continued to communicate with each other, the man’s breaths grew more erratic as he looked left and right trying to distract his mind, trying to not see the disappointed, peircing gaze his older brother gave him. He knew that the Federation was aiming for retaliation, but to go so far as to launch a first strike against a target, against a people that yet knew of their existence was mind boggling and made him restless.

Officer Polk smiled to himself. With his wish of wanted to be with the squadron carrying out this mission, witnessing the reaction of his younger brother to the news was something he truly enjoyed more than any hazard pay he could ever receive from undertaking such a perilous mission. It was true that he did not have the adrenaline rush of performing a beeline refueling just skimming across treetop level, but it was enough to engage and set alight his burning excitement which he strived for in recent years since he had retired from the military.

“-Refueling complete. All Jaguar elements fall in on me. T-minus thirty till we reach the border and go dark.”

Officer Polk watched his brother stare at the radio with a pale face and wide eyes.

“You knew this would happen. Landon Polk, recruited by the Office of Military and Federal Security. Committed an act of treason to help an enemy assassin and saboteur conduct the worst terrorist attack that has ever touched these lands. You knew this would happen, didn’t you? That’s why you disappeared when you were five years old, and you suddenly resurface when you were twenty-nine. You knew this would happen.” The older Polk spoke in a clear-cut voice as he spoke down upon his younger brother.

Landon didn’t like the feeling of being sick. He was sure no one does, but his experience with his older brother so far had made him question everything up to this point. Feeling ill was nothing new to the experienced twenty-nine-year-old, yet here it felt more than just a simple inconvenience. It was something that stuck him to the core and prevented him from thinking rationally, thus, he forced himself to remain silent. There was no doubt in his mind that his older brother was reading him like child’s book, oh how he was able interpret his actions so easily. Perhaps that’s one of the reasons he used to leave his family and chose this new life. It was because his brother was so sharp that nothing got past him, not even the slightest movements hidden in darkness and shrouded by mist. Not that that mattered much. All that remained fact was that he was sick, and this sickness was going to make him look guilty. If everything he knew was to be spilt at this very second, the whole world wouldn’t even bother to blink an eye as he would become worthless, they would send him away, if they didn’t kill him instantly, and the world would move on, and his brother would never receive the apologies he so wanted to give his entire childhood and his adulthood.

Landon bit his lips: that was it, he wanted to do something.

He didn’t know how to approach the situation at hand.

“Eleven persons of interests have been put into custody of the Federal Police and all have been officially arrested under charges of treason, espionage, and other capital and federal crimes,” His brother calmly spoke as he leaned forward in his chair, “I’d never my own flesh and blood would be one of twelve to be caught after this attack. My resources, my agency is closing in on the terrorist that carried out the attack, and its only a matter of time before he is put before a court or the barrel of a gun. I’d hate to see my own little brother suffer the same fate.”

Lunging forward and gripping the bars of his cell, Landon coughed before addressing his brother in a fear-filled, raspy voice, “What is it you want, you people are insane!” He coughed more letting saliva on the ground as he nearly collapsed and heaved grasping at his chest.

“Not insane as you and those damned foreigners.” Officer Polk said in a cold-cut voice.

“That bitch betrayed the throne!” Landon froze as he realized what he shouted, he clamped his mouth shut and swallowed his fear as his brother looked at him with wide eyes.

“Throne?” Officer Polk repeated as he noticed the naval officer look over at him and Landon with an eyebrow raised. He was confused why his brother would mention such a thing, it made no sense initially, yet eventually he came up with an answer for his puzzlement; his brother was taken to the Kingdom of Yondel at five-years-old and raised in the primitive ways the ‘civilized’ country held. “Are you insinuating that Agent Leccamaradel Arish is a member of the royal family?”

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Placing his left hand in front of his mouth, Officer Polk bit down into his hand. The pain stimulated his body, and he ran through thousands of thoughts trying to understand what was just said. It made no sense that the Chieftain-turned agent was a member of the Yondel Royal Family, it just seemed impossible. In no way did the border guards, army interrogators, or even his previous partner Case Officer Phillips provided any evidence that the silver-haired maiden indeed was royalty.

There was nothing.

“It started when I was just six years old,” Looking up from his marked hand, Officer Polk watched his younger brother bit his lip as he sat against the steel bars that separated them. He spoke in a quiet voice, “When I was kidnapped, the people that took me belonged to a criminal syndicate within the kingdom. I spent five years of my life within the slave system, and I killed to stay alive.” His younger brother fought back a wave of emotions as he aimed to remained stoic.

“Five years…” Polk parroted.

“Eventually someone came to the rescue, a member of the royal family that just happened to be passing by,” Landon chuckled to himself as he lowered his head into his arms cradling himself trying to provide some sort of comfort, “The old man that saved me slaughter those monsters, and soon I found myself being taken care of in some sort of villa… I was given a choice, go back into the wild, or join the military to survive. Soon enough I was recruited into the Royal Guard, then I was responsible for ensuring the security of the First-Born Princess, the Silver-Haired Demon herself.”

“Demon?”

Ignoring his brother’s words, Landon continued, “The old family was disposed of by a coup. I was forced on a mission to return to the Federation and spy on you all to “atone” for my sins of serving the old family.”

Officer Polk remained silent this time.

“I spent the next fifteen years eluding my family! My home country!” Landon shouted with tears being released, “So, you go figure out why I had to let that bastard in to kill the damn Princess and her damned Reclaimers!”

“You trained with them, why didn’t you complete your objective then?”

“Because I couldn’t bring myself to do it!” Landon cried gripping the bars and falling to the floor letting all his emotions out. He sobbed in the silence around him, his brother finally knelt down and reached a hand to cover his left which was still on the bars.

No one moved while Landon sobbed letting emotions that had built up for over fifteen years spill out. His face was a mess, and he was too embarrassed to show anyone, even his brother. It was his human flaw; he couldn’t stomach the idea of showing weakness.

“You’ve been through hell.”

“Jason! What do I do?” Landon cried out to his older brother as he tried to calm himself. I’m fucking useless, he swore to himself.

Deciding the best approach to get an answer and to complete his mission, Officer Jason Polk leaned back in his seat, “I’ll be honest, there isn’t much I can do for you, but let me ask you this: Do you still swear your loyalty to the Princess?”

“Yes! I swear my loyalty to the rightful heir!” Landon said confidently as he raised his head showing his tear-stained, rosy cheeks and leaking nostrils.

“Give me everything, and I can assure her safety. That much, I can do.”

Collecting himself, Landon silently wished that the day would be over, nighttime was always easier to get through. Many of the prisoners he had spoken to while being processed always joked that daytime was hell for twelve hours; he and the others always laughed, but they weren’t wrong, most of those incarcerated at the place he was processed through were those unlucky enough to not get the death penalty. Sometimes he wondered how the other prisoners were able to sleep, their own actions placed them into such a pristine place, seemingly uncommon for a perception of a prison. The place he sat on was built through magic and stood over generations due to magic. It was impenetrable, a perfect place for the Federation’s worst criminals. Perhaps that’s why he often spent the time he had speaking to the guards that tinkered and cleaned their gear almost daily; their perspectives provided an interesting point on why he landed himself in such a place in the first place. Human psychology had turned once formidable men into cowards that dared to destroy what was built; perhaps the same could be applied to any normal leader, yet that was not something to ponder on under the late-night moonlight.

Looking away from the small window that shed moonlight, Landon went back to watching the figure of his older brother. The OMFS officer watched him silently, waiting for an answer to the proposition he made. His honesty was now appreciated. It reminded Landon that he placed himself in this position, so the least he could do was fulfil his former duty as a guard, a shield to the true royal family.

“I’ll do it. Just—I want to see that she is safe due to my actions before I face whatever trial they throw me into.” He mumbled.

“That’s all I want to hear. I can delay any judicial hearing, just give me everything.”

“Where-,” He cleared his throat, “Relating to the attack within the capital, there were three primary cells that were active within the attack. I was apart of the primary cell responsible for clearing the way for the sole attacker to breach the ballroom.”

Jason reclined in the metal chair as his shoes gently shifted on the seemingly untouched floor.

“Seventeen individuals were responsible for all of this; you’ve only found eleven. The head is a rouge hero, one that goes by the name of ‘Raven’. He was summoned at an unknown time in the past, and he eventually broke away from the grasps of the royal family when he went missing during an expedition into the Frontier.”

“And he suddenly resurfaced to cause this.” Jason spoke softly probing for more information.

“Raven spoke to a man in the frontier, something we could never do for some unknown reason. Many speculated the man to be a Forerunner, yet no one could gather the evidence to prove such a bold statement. Either way, that’s where the plan must’ve originated.” Landon said clutching his head. “The bastard wanted more than to kill the member of the royal family, he wanted to bring the Federation to its knees, that’s why he chose that day to strike.”

Jason left out a short huff as he stood up and gently leaned against the cell bars. He lowered himself on the ground and gently took his younger brother’s hand into his own. During the course of the interrogation his mission had changed, though only slightly: now he was focused on understanding his brother rather than aiming to gain a confession for what happened at the ball room. He let out a heavy sigh as he tried to figure out the reason why his younger brother would go from protecting the royal family to suddenly trying to kill the only remaining member, it just didn’t make any sense logically with the testimony he had been provided so far. He knew that his brother had called her a traitor, yet he hadn’t received an answer as to why.

“The cell I was apart of gathered information and provided openings for the attack, the other two collected weapons and other gear in case Raven was killed, but most of them were able to burn what they collected and escaped to the mountains in the east of the Federation.”

A location? More like a general direction. Jason thought to himself.

“Either way, the secondary objective we received was to kidnap the bitch’s personal guards, the Reclaimers, the Holy Knights. He’s rouge, but-yet he wanted to return them to the kingdom; I guess he wanted to prevent another conflict between us, huh.”

“Raven was trying to prevent a war?” Jason asked with a raised eyebrow, “You just said that he wanted to bring the Federation to its knees.”

“He,” Landon’s voice broke making the two men pause. As he tried to find the right words, his lips trembled, and his only free hand remained clenched at his side. His face had softened, and he loosened his tense muscles, “This attack is personal for him, he wants to get something out of it, but none of us knew what he wanted.”

“Lighting to base, they’ve returned, and they have some interesting guests with them.”

The two men went silent as the radio left on continued to play.

“Who authorized this?”

“President Harding.”

“Get Lieutenant Commander Steele on the line, I want to know why the fuck we have Yondel soldiers on one of my planes!”

Shifting on the floor, Landon looked over his shoulder. He didn’t know why the conversation happening occurred on the frequency being used by the attack planes heading for the kingdom, then he began to question why he hadn’t heard a single transmission from the pilots carrying out such a mission since the beginning of his questioning.

In a similar manner, Jason watched the radio hidden by the darkness. He was confused on why the encryption for the attack mission had been suddenly transferred to another unit, and more over such a unit was acting on direct orders from the President himself. It didn’t make sense. Then again, not much made sense throughout this entire interrogation.

Glancing at his watch the OMFS officer noticed that his allotted time was almost up, the antsy naval officer standing at the end of the hall was a testament to that fact. He only had five minutes left, and for now, he had received critical information that would help the Federation track down Raven the one responsible for the attack on the capital. They were so close yet seemed so far away from uncovering a conspiracy against the nation. It pained him that he wouldn’t have enough time to close this chapter in his life before his brother would eventually be sent to a court of law to answer for his crimes.

His eyes moved to the window. A worrisome expression grew on his face as the hour passed ten, and now just on time, a fluctuation of exhaustion and varying emotions occupied the man’s mind. He harbored depressive thoughts of the reality he was in, and there was no changing it as he had done all he could for the time being. All that was left was to leave the arrest to law enforcement and to build a case against the Kingdom of Yondel and their unruly and rouge ‘hero’ that still seemed to act upon their orders.

Letting go of his brother and standing up from the ground, Jason stomped on the radio killing the power and destroying the transceivers; he had no use for it anymore as he had gained what he needed. Looking over his shoulder with tired eyes, he saw that his younger brother sat silently and still against the metal bars, without a second thought he looked back, folded the metal chair, and left following the naval officer back to the exit of the facility.

“You shouldn’t have told him anything. Especially anything about the conspiracy.”

Shrugging, Landon Polk took a deep breath as he remained in place.

“I’m surprised you’ve lasted this long. I guess some within the Office of Military and Federal Security shed some pity upon you.”

Standing up from the ground and turning around while placing his hands on the cold metal bars, Landon looked to the windows where one had been removed without noise, and there a hooded man floated watching him. “Well, I was going to receive the death penalty either way, wasn’t I?”

The figure thought of an answer, “Indeed,” he said while raising a pistol towards Landon.

“The current king killed the previous royal family without mercy. Then he bastardized the fallen princess by making her into his own personal blade.” Landon stated calmly not fearing death at the hands of this ‘monster’, “I lost my path a long time ago, but the least I can do is protect the princess with my final words spoken to my brother.”

“How interesting,” The monster spoke, “You once aimed to kill the person you protected, yet you still will shield them from danger in the end.”

“Who knows,” Landon chuckled to himself as his expression soon fell, “I might just be fucking insane.”

The prison went into full lockdown after a thunderous noise was heard within Section B.

Publicly Available Information: Sinking of the FOS, Singing Chord:

Over 100 sailors were killed in action.

Another 32 are missing in action.

The FOS, Singing Chord was reportedly struck by an unknown projectile believed to be launched by its sister submarine, the FOS Night Walker who was performing live fire exercises with its experimental C-57 torpedoes. The FOS Night Walker was also sunk that day and families and the encroaching federal government are racing for the truth behind the disastrous incident that now leaves the infamous 3rd at a standstill in its current operation as naval investigators examine the circumstances that led to this unfortunate event.