Chapter 5: A Test of Obedience

  Scene 1: Summoned Before The Council

  The halls of The Order’s high-security sector were designed to suffocate. No windows, no markings, just an endless stretch of sterile corridors leading to places most would never return from.

  I walked between two silent enforcers, their footsteps eerily synchronized with mine. The cold metal beneath my boots felt heavier than usual, the air around me thick with something unspoken.

  This was not a routine summons.

  The last time I had been here, I was too young to understand the weight of this place. Now, at sixteen, I knew exactly what it meant to be called before The Council.

  They were watching me.

  The doors slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a dimly lit chamber. A long metal table stretched across the center, its surface gleaming under the single overhead light. Three figures sat at the far end—motionless, expressionless. The Council.

  And on the opposite side of the table, waiting in silence, was my father.

  Markus Graves sat perfectly still, his gloved hands folded in front of him, his face unreadable. He did not acknowledge me as I stepped inside. The enforcers closed the door behind me, sealing me into the silence.

  I stood at attention.

  Council Overseer Voss, the man at the center, finally spoke. His voice was slow, deliberate, each word precisely measured.

  “Lucian Graves. You have reached a critical stage in your development.”

  He let the words settle, giving me nothing else to hold onto. The Council never wasted breath on pleasantries.

  “Before we determine your future,” Voss continued, his gaze sharpening, “we must assess your loyalty.”

  A thin file slid across the table toward me.

  Markus was the one who had pushed it forward.

  I stared at the folder. It was small, unassuming, but the weight of it pressed down on my ribs like iron.

  “Inside is the name of a suspected rebel,” Markus said. His voice was calm. Too calm. “Your task is simple. Confirm their disloyalty. Report them. And prove that you are one of us.”

  I didn’t move.

  The air in the room felt suffocating. My fingers twitched, but I didn’t reach for the file. Not yet.

  Voss tilted his head. “You hesitate.”

  I clenched my jaw, schooling my expression. Hesitation was dangerous.

  Markus leaned forward slightly, and for the first time, I saw something flicker behind his eyes. Something I didn’t understand.

  “You think I haven’t made sacrifices?” he murmured, voice just low enough that only I could hear.

  The words made my skin go cold.

  “You think you’re the first to lose someone?”

  My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The Council remained motionless, but Markus… something about him felt off. His fingers tapped lightly against the table—an uncharacteristic tell. He was saying something without saying it.

  And I didn’t know what it was.

  Voss exhaled through his nose, clearly unimpressed. “Do you not wish to serve The Order, Lucian?”

  I forced my body to stay still. I knew this game. If I refused, I was already condemned.

  Markus slid the file closer, the edge of it catching the light.

  “Turn in the rebel, Lucian,” he said, his voice regaining its usual cold control. “That’s an order.”

  The silence was suffocating.

  Slowly, I reached for the file, my pulse hammering beneath my skin.

  I did not open it.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I felt The Council’s gaze pressing into me. Felt the weight of my father’s unreadable stare.

  I already knew.

  Whoever was inside this file, my decision had already been made for me.

  And something told me that once I opened it, there would be no turning back.

  Scene 2: The Suspect Is His Mother

  The file sat in my hands, heavier than it should have been.

  I had walked out of the Council chamber in silence, the weight of their expectations pressing against my back. Markus had not spoken as I left. He hadn’t needed to. The command had been given.

  Turn in the rebel.

  That’s an order.

  My breath felt trapped in my throat as I reached my quarters, the sterile walls of The Order’s housing sector offering no comfort. I shut the door behind me, my fingers tightening around the folder.

  I already knew what I would find inside.

  I could feel it.

  Still, my hands trembled slightly as I opened it.

  ELARA GRAVES – SUSPECTED COLLUSION WITH REBELS.

  My vision blurred.

  The words burned into my mind, sharp and inescapable. I reread them, my brain refusing to process what they meant.

  My mother.

  My mother was the rebel.

  A breath shuddered out of me, but I couldn’t hear it over the sound of my pulse pounding in my skull.

  This was wrong. This was a mistake.

  But deep down, I knew it wasn’t.

  I thought back to the stolen moments—the hesitation in her eyes when The Order made its demands, the way she had looked at me that night after the punishment lesson when she had done nothing. The lullaby she had whispered when she thought no one could hear.

  It had always been there. The truth, buried beneath the silence.

  My mother was not who she pretended to be.

  And now, The Order knew.

  A sharp breath tore through me, and suddenly, I was moving. I didn’t think—I just ran.

  The corridors passed in a blur, cold and metallic under the artificial lights. I ignored the enforcers, the surveillance. None of it mattered.

  I reached our family quarters and pushed through the door without hesitation.

  She was sitting in the dim light of the living space, perfectly still.

  She did not look surprised to see me.

  The file dropped from my hand, hitting the table between us.

  "Tell me it’s a mistake."

  Elara did not look at the papers. She already knew what was inside.

  "You weren’t supposed to find out this way."

  Her voice was calm. Too calm.

  Something inside me snapped.

  "Weren’t supposed to—?" My voice cracked. I forced it down. "They want me to turn you in."

  She nodded, as if she had already accepted this.

  I gritted my teeth. "So it’s true?"

  Elara exhaled softly, folding her hands in her lap. "It was always going to happen eventually."

  I shook my head, heat rising beneath my skin. "That’s not an answer. Are you a rebel?"

  She finally looked at me. And in her eyes, I saw it—something I had never noticed before.

  Not fear.

  Not regret.

  Acceptance.

  "I was," she admitted. "A long time ago."

  The air in my lungs turned to ice.

  Elara leaned forward slightly, her voice quiet but firm. "Before you were born, I was part of something bigger than myself. I was part of The Hidden."

  I stumbled back. The words sent a sharp jolt through my body. The Hidden. The rebels. The very thing The Order had sworn to eradicate.

  And my mother had been one of them.

  She continued, her voice steady. "And your uncle, Solomon, led us."

  Everything inside me ground to a halt.

  My uncle.

  The name I had found. The man The Order erased.

  I forced my voice to work. "Solomon Graves was a traitor." The words felt wrong even as I said them.

  Elara’s jaw tightened. "That’s what they wanted you to believe."

  A bitter laugh slipped from me, sharp and humorless. "Oh? So now I shouldn’t believe anything they taught me?"

  Her eyes softened. "I know this is difficult to hear—"

  "Difficult?" I snapped. "They are asking me to turn in my own mother, and you think the problem is that it’s difficult?"

  She didn’t flinch. "They already know the truth about me, Lucian. This isn’t about me."

  I shook my head, my entire body tense with confusion, rage, and something I couldn’t name. "Then what is it about?"

  Elara studied me, a quiet sadness settling into her expression.

  "It’s about what you do next."

  I felt the weight of those words settle over me.

  A silence stretched between us, heavy and unbearable.

  Finally, I asked the question that had been clawing at me since I read the file.

  "What happened to Solomon?"

  For the first time, I saw her mask crack. A flicker of pain crossed her face.

  And then she told me.

  "Your father turned him in."

  The world tilted.

  Everything in my chest caved inward.

  No.

  No, that couldn’t be right.

  "He what?" My voice barely came out.

  Elara looked down, her hands pressing together tightly. "Solomon believed The Order could be dismantled from within. He thought he could change things, expose the lies. But someone close to him—someone with power—had to betray him."

  I felt sick.

  "Markus," I whispered.

  She nodded. "Your father secured his position by turning in his own brother."

  My mind reeled, the pieces snapping together in ways I didn’t want them to. Markus wasn’t just an enforcer. He was a survivor. He had built his rank on the ashes of his own blood.

  I thought back to what he had said in that chamber.

  "You think I haven’t made sacrifices?"

  This was what he meant.

  I swallowed hard, my throat raw. "And now he wants me to do the same thing."

  Elara met my gaze, steady and unwavering.

  "You have a choice, Lucian."

  My breath shook.

  Everything The Order had taught me was a lie.

  Everything my father had built his life on was a betrayal.

  And now, The Order wanted me to prove my loyalty.

  By betraying her.

  I took a step back, the walls of the room pressing in on me.

  "I don’t—" My voice faltered. I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  Elara didn’t move. She only watched me with quiet understanding.

  "You know what The Order will do if you refuse."

  I did.

  I knew exactly what they would do.

  I looked at the file still lying open on the table, the cold, undeniable truth staring back at me.

  I had always believed I was born into The Order. That obedience was my only path. That my father’s shadow would be the one I walked in forever.

  But now, standing here, everything felt different.

  The path in front of me had split.

  One way led to obedience. To survival.

  The other led to something I couldn’t yet name.

  I didn’t know which way I would go.

  But I knew one thing for certain.

  I would never be like Markus.