Chapter 8
The day after Kaelyn confronted Landen, a new wave of energy surged through the base. Word had spread like wildfire—Commander Zayn had captured one of the enemy’s key infiltrators, and Kaelyn, the woman everyone had once underestimated, had gone toe to toe with him and walked away colder, sharper, untouchable.
But while the others whispered, Kaelyn focused.
She didn’t care about their awe. She cared about one thing: the shadowy organization that had manipulated her life from the beginning. Landen had given her one clue before going silent—a name. Not a full one, just a fragment: “Tamar.”
It was something. And with Zayn’s resources and her own relentless mind, she dug in.
Late one night, after hours of decrypting buried military records and cross-referencing intercepted communications, she found something. “Tamar” wasn’t a person. It was a codename for a secret program—one buried deep within the warlord alliance years ago. A psychological warfare initiative built to control high-value assets through emotional manipulation, gaslighting, and simulated loyalty.
People like her weren’t victims.
They were projects.
Kaelyn sat in the war room, staring at the blinking cursor on the report she’d just compiled. She could feel Zayn’s presence behind her even before he spoke.
“You found something,” he said quietly.
She nodded. “They didn’t just find broken people. They made them. They targeted the ones with potential, isolated them, made them feel seen… then twisted everything.”
Zayn leaned against the edge of the table, crossing his arms. “They wanted tools. Not partners. Not allies. Tools.”
She looked up. “And when a tool breaks or questions them… they destroy it.”
For a long moment, neither of them said a word.
Then Zayn spoke. “You said once you wanted to burn it all down. You still mean that?”
Kaelyn’s eyes glinted. “I do.”
“Then we start now.”
Zayn pulled a hidden panel from the war table, revealing an encrypted transmitter. “We’ve located one of their outposts. It’s remote—high in the Varnian cliffs. Almost no surveillance. If Tamar exists in a physical form… we’ll find it there.”
Kaelyn stood. “I want to be on that mission.”
“I figured you’d say that,” Zayn said, passing her a folder. Inside were details of the strike plan—team members, terrain data, satellite scans.
Kaelyn scanned it quickly. “This team… they trust me?”
Zayn met her gaze. “They’ve seen what you can do. You’ve earned it.”
That night, as the strike team prepped for departure, Kaelyn stood in front of her locker, pulling on her gear. She caught her reflection in the mirror—eyes hard, lips pressed tight, shoulders squared.
Gone was the woman who used to beg for love behind closed doors. Gone was the doctor who cried alone while her husband betrayed her.
This woman was steel. Purpose. Fire.
As they boarded the drop shuttle, Sebastian appeared beside her, suited up and grinning. “You sure you’re ready for this?”
Kaelyn didn’t hesitate. “I’ve never been more ready.”
He looked impressed. “That’s what I like to hear. Let’s go tear down some empires.”
The shuttle roared into the sky, slicing through clouds, carrying them toward the cliffs where the truth waited.
As the world shrank below them, Kaelyn whispered under her breath, barely audible over the engines:
“This time, I won’t be fooled. This time, I’m the one writing the story.”