Page 293 of Interion

“And what happened next, Serguei?” It was the first time he was hearing the story of his parents. He was curious. “Since we have to wait, I think it’s time you told me about that day. Tell me why my mother betrayed you. In fact, you owe me an explanation for why you modified some of Kyller’s memories and have been keeping secrets all this time.”

Zion willed the shadows to anchor his feet to the floor so he wouldn’t lose control with Serguei or the Sonar. There was so much desperation and hatred in his chest that he didn’t trust himself to stay sane. He felt betrayed by everyone around him, kept in the dark like a mouse walking into a trap.

Finally, the psychic met the general’s eyes.

“You’re right. Sometimes I wonder if I have a heart… or a tomb.” Serguei took a deep breath, pressing his chest. “I can no longer hide the decomposing corpses buried inside me, and I think it’s finally time for you to know about my shame.”

Zion watched him for a long moment, but the psychic seemed frozen, unsure how to begin despite the speech he'd rehearsed in his head.

“Well?” he prompted.

Serguei took a deep breath, steeling himself. His shoulders hunched as if the weight of hidden truths was too much to bear. Then he let it out:

“Your mother didn't betray our people.”

The room fell silent. Outside, the rain fell harder, and lightning struck somewhere in the forest, illuminating the horizon. The crack of thunder rattled the window.

“Then why is she known for that?” Zion stood with his arms crossed, trying to keep his expression neutral. The Sonar just watched the rain, seemingly unsurprised.

“It was a setup,” Serguei sighed, “a well-crafted trap to destroy the woman who played games and kept secrets across three different nations.”

“How?”

“Ravena was intelligent, Zion. She was a descendant of a Drutes primary, with genes stolen from a Vinturian captured during a forest skirmish. Her body was Drutes, but her mind was an even greater weapon. Her power was like mine, but different in nature. While my gift was always about expansion and attack, hers was about defense and illusion.”

The psychic twisted the gold ring on his ring finger. Zion knew it was the wedding band he'd never taken off.

“When we arrived in Interion, there were five leaders in the Night Squadron: Amenadiel, Lea, Luanda, Ravena, and me. Young fools, dreamers foolish enough to believe the walls would become our home. All except Ravena. She never agreed with how we handled the Drutes refugees. Back then, Elaizer reigned and opened the gates to our people. He was a good king who wanted to help, but the city feared us, and that fear turned to hostility.”

“We should have left,” Julius whispered to no one in particular.

“At first, there were nineteen of us, and we were placed at the edge of the human quarter, where crime was rampant. It was a clear message that we weren't welcome—only tolerated. Back then, I believed it was just a matter of time before the city got used to us, but Ravena always knew we'd never be accepted. She hated being inside the walls from the day she set foot in them. It was hard for her to deal with the Interions, with their scornful looks and repulsive thoughts. She wasn't happy with the way things were going, and we argued about it almost daily. I wanted to stay and fight for our place, but Ravena wanted to find somewhere else.” Serguei paused briefly and took a deep breath. “After we settled in, Elaizer held military meetings with our people and gave us the option to fight alongside Interion on the front lines against the forced breeding camps. Ravena and I were placed in different squads. Mine was made up of Interions; hers, only descendants. I suppose that's when things started to go wrong.”

“No, dear friend. With Ravena, everything was doomed from the start,” Julius murmured restlessly, but Serguei ignored him.

“She'd disappear for days or months with her squad in the forests, and whenever she returned, she'd report finding no camps. When people started getting suspicious, I began altering information and ideas in their minds so no one would scrutinize the expedition reports too closely. I made them believe she was on territorial reconnaissance.”

“Did she ask you to do that?” Zion frowned at these revelations.

“No. Your mother never had to ask me for anything. She had this gift for manipulating my choices in silence, as subtle as a spider spinning silk. And I covered for her because that was always our dynamic. Even now, I think she never cared how big a problem she'd cause, because she had faith I'd save her no matter what she did.” He kept twisting the ring around his finger. “Despite what I saw in her mind when she died, I still wonder whether your mother truly loved me as a man or just saw me as a valuable pawn. Ravena always had the personality of a hurricane: no laws, no scruples, no consequences. I knew that. But by accepting such a storm into my life, I couldn't blame her for following her course and destroying my world.” The psychic looked toward the window, where lightning streaked the sky in silver. “When Ravena was gone, I understood why they name hurricanes after women.”

The room fell silent. Zion tried to control his empathic gift, but that putrid anguish poured off Serguei like blood in water, drawing his power toward it. After a moment to compose himself, Serguei continued:

“Whenever we returned to the walls, I'd ask her where she'd been, what she was plotting, and if I could help somehow. Your mother would say it was still a work in progress and she couldn't tell me yet. We'd fight. She'd ask me to trust her, and I, blinded by love, did. I didn't have the courage to enter her mind, because that was the rule that held our relationship together: never invade each other's minds…” He stopped again and stared at the ring for a few seconds. “Over the years, our numbers grew, and the Interions started to resent the growing population. They didn't want us inside the walls because we were children of the enemy. Back then, there were 120 refugees inside these walls, and soon two children were born. With their birth, more Interions revolted. The provocations, once silent, grew into shouts and open hostility. Our people were never known for patience or backing down. To avoid conflicts that would make things worse, I ordered the descendants not to react to provocations—just to call me to resolve things before they turned into a war. But one night, when Ravena and I were in the forests with our squads, the descendants' camp was attacked by the first anti-Drutes movement. The men were in the forests; only women and children remained. They separated mothers from children, saying that if they cooperated, they wouldn't hurt the little ones. The women didn't fight back because those were my orders, and they were held captive all night…”

Serguei fell silent and took a deep breath.

“And what happened?” the general asked.

The pain of the memories was so intense that his empathic power absorbed it in great waves.

“At dawn, when they were released, they found their children’s tiny bodies burned to the bone in the center of the camp.”

“I’ve never stopped thinking about Daena and Itiria’s grief.” The Sonar shook his head, lost in his memories.

“Why are there no records of this massacre?” Zion didn’t even know what to say. It was so revolting it turned his stomach.

“Interion didn’t care, so they burned the records of that episode.” Serguei looked up at his son. “That was the spark that set everything in motion. When we learned what had happened, Ravena and I fought. She was frightened and fed up with staying in Interion, but I still hadn’t given up. We called an urgent meeting with Elaizer about the situation, and he promised a better, safer place for our people. He even created a law stating that a descendant could retaliate against and kill anyone who violated our rights as citizens. He gave us the freedom to seek justice for our children.”