The following day, Emery gathered the entire crew—scientists, engineers, workers, and guards. The underground lab, usually a place of controlled chaos, now buzzed with curiosity as everyone waited for his words.
He stood before them, hands in his coat pockets, gaze sharp. "We've achieved something impossible. But we're not stopping here."
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Callum, Lianfei, Chen, and Feng exchanged glances and their monologues thought of the same thing.
What could possibly be more ambitious than what they had already done?
Emery turned to the chalkboard and with deliberate movements, began sketching a new design—one that even his own team had yet to see.
"Our next step is to create electrical motors and lightbulbs. We're talking about machines that move without steam or manual labour—pure electricity converting into motion. And for illumination? No more torches, no more oil lamps—controlled light from raw energy."
The silence in the room was palpable, as if he had just declared himself the ruler of the world.
Lianfei furrowed her brows. "Wait. We… we haven't even cracked how to stabilize energy output on that level. You're saying you already have a plan?"
Emery smirked. "A theory. And theories, when tested, lead to reality. That's what we do here."
The science team nodded, intrigued, while others were stunned into silence.
However, as he continued his explanation, his eyes flickered toward a select few individuals in the room—people who were too attentive, too rigid, their fingers twitching slightly as they absorbed the details.
He didn't need to say anything. He saw them. And he knew.
From the corner of the lab, Seraphine, Jun, and even Zafira stood watching. Not at Emery—but at the ones who had begun to write.
One by one, as the meeting concluded and people dispersed, those individuals slipped away into the corridors.
Jun cracked her neck. "Got 'em."
Seraphine, expression cold, nodded. "Let's see who they're working for."
Zafira folded her arms, smirking slightly. "And just like that, the rats expose themselves."
The trap had been set. And now, it was time to spring it.
One by one, the spies were caught, their attempts to slip away cut short by the watchful eyes of Jun, Seraphine, and Zafira. Within hours, they were rounded up, bound, and dragged to the underground arena—a place normally reserved for training, now repurposed for something much darker.
The vast space was empty, save for torches flickering against the stone walls. The captured traitors knelt in a line, wrists tied behind their backs, fear creeping into their expressions as they faced the unknown.
Emery stood at the center, hands in his coat pockets, Callum at his side. The two men watched in silence as the last spy was thrown to his knees.
Callum let out a low whistle. "Damn. Didn't expect this many."
Emery exhaled, his gaze steady. "There's always more than you think. We got lucky."
One of the spies glared up at him. "What do you want from us? If you're going to kill us, get it over with."
Emery tilted his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "Kill you? Who said anything about that?"
He turned to Callum, his tone suddenly lighthearted. "You know, I made that whole announcement about electrical motors and lightbulbs—"
"—Only to bait out rats" Callum finished with a knowing smirk. "Brilliant."
Emery grinned. "I thought so too. But we are going to do it later."
Callum's smirk fades and sighs ''Right...''
The captured men stiffened, realization dawning upon them. They had been played.
Emery stepped forward, crouching in front of the closest spy. "Now, here's how this is going to work. You're going to tell me who you work for, how much they know, and in return—well, let's just say your lives are in my hands. And I'm feeling generous.''
Zafira, arms crossed, chuckled from the shadows. "You're going to make them sweat first, aren't you?"
Emery's smirk widened. "Absolutely."
Before the kneeling spies could react, Zafira stepped forward, pressing the cold barrel of a gun against the back of one man's head. The sharp click of the hammer being drawn back echoed through the otherwise silent arena.
The man tensed, his breathing ragged.
Emery crouched in front of him, tilting his head slightly. "Name."
The spy clenched his jaw but remained silent. His knuckles whitened against the restraints.
Emery sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose as if this were a minor inconvenience. "Alright, let's start with something easier. Did you tell the Emperor about the gun?"
The man's shoulders barely shifted, but Emery caught it all. The brief, involuntary flinch at the word gun, the slight tightening of his jaw, the minuscule twitch in his fingers. His breathing, though shallow, stuttered for half a second too long.
Lies were louder than words.
Emery's eyes gleamed as he leaned in just enough to make the man sweat. "You hesitated. You twitched. You reacted exactly how someone guilty would. I don't even need your words to tell me—you already did."
Emery let the silence stretch, watching the man's breathing grow more erratic under the weight of his scrutiny. Then, with deliberate slowness, he asked "How much did they pay you?"
The spy swallowed hard. His gaze flickered to the others, then back to Emery. "F-Four gold pieces a month. More if I provided details on specific developments."
Callum let out a low whistle. "They must really want to know what we're up to if they're throwing around that kind of money."
Emery hummed, tapping his fingers against his knee. "Four gold… That's decent. Not life-changing, but enough to keep someone comfortable. Makes me wonder if you're just a desperate man trying to survive, or if you actually believe in the people you're selling us out to."
Before the man could stammer out a response, Zafira grabbed his face roughly, forcing him to look up at her. Her fingers dug into his jaw, and for the first time since he had been caught, the spy's mask of defiance cracked. His breath hitched as he was forced to meet her burning gaze.
"I know you" Zafira muttered, voice low but filled with betrayal.
"You think I wouldn't recognize my own people? My own men? Your name is Jian. I took care of you and your family. I made sure your father had work, that your mother never had to beg for food again. I pulled you out of the gutter and gave you a purpose."
Her grip tightened, her nails pressing into his skin. His face starting to bleed from the cuts "And this—this is how you repay me? By betraying not just me, but your own flesh and blood? Did they even know? Did your family know what you were doing!?"
Jian's lips trembled, his breath coming in short, panicked bursts.
Regret flooded his eyes, but it was too late.
"Do you have any regrets?" Zafira demanded, voice sharp as a blade.
For a long, unbearable moment, silence stretched between them. Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, Jian choked out, "I... I thought I had no choice. But now... I regret everything."
Emery before he could utter the world ''Alright I get it''.
A single gunshot echoed through the empty arena.
Jian's body jerked violently as the bullet tore through the back of his skull. For a fleeting second, his lips parted as if to speak again, but only a final, sickening breath escaped before his lifeless form slumped forward.
The silence that followed was deafening.
Zafira slowly lowered her pistol, her expression unreadable as she stared down at his corpse. "People who betray once will always do it again" she said coldly, voice carrying through the dimly lit space.
"They don't deserve second chances."
She exhaled, a slow, measured breath, and crouched beside the body. Gently, she pressed a hand against Jian's cooling shoulder. "Your family did nothing wrong. They'll be taken care of" she murmured.
"That much, I can promise."
Then, without another word, she stood and turned away, holstering her weapon as she strode past the other captives—each one now trembling in silent terror.
Before she could take another step, Emery grabbed her collar and yanked her back, his grip tight, his jaw clenched.
"What the fuck was that Ezra!?"
Zafira barely reacted, only tilting her head toward him with an icy expression. "What needed to be done."
Emery's eyes burned with fury. "We were supposed to interrogate them! Not turn this into an execution."
Zafira ripped his hand off her collar and stepped closer, voice low. "And what? Let him slither out of it with some pathetic plea? Let him live so he can betray us again the moment he gets a better offer? No, Emery. Weakness like that gets people killed."
Emery exhaled sharply, nostrils flaring. "And you think this makes us better than the ones we're fighting? Just pulling the trigger when it's convenient? He could've given us more—they could all give us more."
Zafira scoffed. "And you think a man who chose to sell us out DESPITE having a family, would ever give us anything worth keeping? Wake up, Emery. People don't change. He had his chance to be loyal, and he threw it away."
The tension between them was thick enough to choke the air out of the room. The captives watched in stunned silence, too afraid to move.
Callum, standing beside them, cleared his throat. "Not to interrupt your moral debate, but maybe this isn't the time to have a full-blown fight over corpses."
Neither of them moved. Neither of them blinked.
Finally, Emery let out a bitter sigh, stepping back. "Fine. But this? This isn't happening again. Next time, we do it my way."
Zafira gave him a long look before shrugging. "We'll see."
Before the tension could settle, another spy was dragged forward by Jun, trembling. Unlike the first, his expression wasn't one of defiance—it was resignation.
Zafira pressed the barrel of a gun against the back of his head, the cold metal making him shudder. Emery stepped forward, rolling his shoulders as if loosening up for another round.
"Alright" Emery exhaled, his tone sharp. "Your turn. Name."
The spy swallowed hard, his gaze flickering between Emery and Zafira. "Han" he muttered.
"I won't lie. Not after…" His eyes darted briefly to the corpse beside him.
Emery tilted his head. "Smart choice. Now, tell me—did you pass information to the Emperor?"
Wei Han nodded slowly. "Yes."
Emery's sharp eyes scanned every detail of the man—his posture, his breathing, the way his fingers twitched slightly in the ropes binding him.
There was no hesitation, no defiance. Just acceptance.
"How much did they pay you?" Emery asked, voice devoid of emotion.
"Three gold pieces a month" Wei Han admitted. "And an extra five for confirmed reports on any major discoveries. They didn't trust me enough for more."
Callum let out a low whistle. "So they're paying less than the last guy. You got swindled, my friend."
Han let out a bitter chuckle. "Yeah, I figured that out too late."
Emery hummed, tapping his fingers against his arm. "And what do you think happens now?"
Han hesitated, then let out a slow breath. "I assume you're going to kill me."