Alexander was already awake when his interface pinged with a message from Lyra. The sun had barely begun to rise, casting the Forest Watch outpost in pale blue light.

  Secure channel. Need to talk. South storage hut. Now.

  The message came through the modified communication channel Lyra had set up for them st week—a system that bypassed standard interface protocols. Alexander still wasn't entirely comfortable with how easily she maniputed technology that was supposed to be tamper-proof, but he couldn't deny its usefulness.

  He found Lyra waiting in the empty storage hut, perched on a stack of supply crates. She looked tired, dark circles under her eyes suggesting she hadn't slept much.

  "I cracked it," she said without preamble, holding up a small device he didn't recognize. "Valeria's communications. I finally got through the encryption."

  Alexander's eyebrows rose. They'd known Valeria was sending reports back to corporate for weeks, but the content had remained a mystery.

  "Show me," he said, keeping his voice carefully neutral despite the surge of anticipation.

  Lyra handed him the device—a simple signal detector cobbled together from outpost components.

  "I got lucky," she said with a shrug that seemed too casual. "Jorin had some parts that created the right frequency modution. Caught a chunk of st night's transmission."

  Alexander studied her for a moment. Lyra had a habit of downpying her technical achievements, brushing them off as luck or simple tinkering. He suspected there was more to it but didn't press. Results mattered more than methods right now.

  "Get Elijah," he said. "He should see this too."

  While Lyra fetched his brother, Alexander reviewed the data fragments. His military training had included encryption recognition, and what he saw confirmed his suspicions. High-level corporate encoding, VitaCore standard. His father's people were watching.

  Elijah arrived looking rumpled and half-asleep until he saw their expressions.

  "What's wrong?" he asked, immediately alert.

  "Lyra broke Valeria's encryption," Alexander expined, handing him the detector. "Look at the pattern recognition on the third screen."

  Elijah's eyes widened as he read. "Subject frequently responds to stimuli others cannot detect. They're talking about the whispers."

  "There's more," Lyra said, pulling up additional fragments. "Assess whether abilities are interface-based or organic in nature. Priority directive."

  Alexander leaned against a crate, thinking. "They're specifically interested in your perceptions, Eli. And apparently concerned about my 'independence from established protocols.'"

  "They're monitoring all of us," Lyra added, "but with specific focus on you two."

  Elijah ran a hand through his messy hair. "We already knew she was reporting back. Does this really change anything?"

  "It changes everything," Alexander replied. "Now we know what she's reporting. And we can do something about it."

  He straightened up, decision made. "I'll speak with her directly. Alone."

  "Is that smart?" Lyra asked, skepticism evident in her tone.

  "Direct confrontation is risky," Elijah agreed. "What if she denies it or just starts sending more covert reports?"

  Alexander shook his head. "She won't. Valeria's a rational actor. Once she knows we have evidence, she'll calcute her best option—which is negotiation."

  Lyra looked unconvinced. "And if you're wrong?"

  "Then we'll know exactly where we stand," Alexander said firmly. "Either way, better than this shadow game."

  Captain Verna raised an eyebrow when Alexander requested a private meeting space but asked no questions. She simply pointed him toward a small pnning room and walked away. Alexander appreciated her discretion—another sign of a good commander.

  He sent Valeria a standard interface message—nothing secure, nothing that suggested trouble. Just a request for a strategy session before morning training.

  She arrived precisely on time, her posture military-perfect as always. "You wanted to see me?"

  "Close the door."

  Something in his tone must have alerted her. A subtle shift in her stance, a slight narrowing of her eyes. Not arm, but awareness. She closed the door and remained standing, hands csped behind her back.

  "How long have you been reporting to my father?" Alexander asked, his voice calm.

  To her credit, Valeria didn't flinch. "I don't know what you mean."

  "Let's not waste time with denials." Alexander held up Lyra's detector, dispying the decrypted fragments. "This was captured st night. Your neural interface sends automated reports during your sleep cycle. Very efficient."

  A brief fsh of something—surprise, maybe irritation—crossed Valeria's face before her expression smoothed.

  "Your father has legitimate interests in this mission," she said carefully. "Regur updates are standard protocol for any corporate-sponsored team."

  "Updates about Elijah's premonitions that helped us so many times? About my 'concerning independence'?" Alexander's voice remained level, but he let steel enter his tone. "Those don't sound like standard protocols."

  _*]:min-w-0 !gap-3.5">Valeria considered him for a moment, clearly calcuting her response. Alexander waited. When dealing with intelligence operatives, patience often revealed more than pressure.

  "What exactly do you want, Alexander?" she finally asked.

  "Transparency," he replied immediately. "If you're going to report on this team, we set parameters. Certain information stays protected. No more hidden surveilnce."

  "You're asking me to compromise corporate directives."

  "I'm offering a compromise between corporate interests and team security," he corrected. "The alternative is removing you from the team entirely."

  A flicker of genuine arm showed in her eyes. Being removed from the mission would be a serious failure for someone in her position.

  "Your father wouldn't approve," she tried.

  "My father isn't here," Alexander replied calmly. "I am. And according to the reports you've been sending, I'm demonstrating 'concerning independence.' Might as well live up to the description."

  The corner of Valeria's mouth twitched—almost a smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You're more like him than you realize."

  Alexander ignored the jab. "These are my terms: You continue sending reports, but you show me what you're sending first. General team progress, resources, floor completion—all acceptable. Personal abilities, private conversations, internal team dynamics—off limits."

  Valeria weighed her options visibly. Alexander could practically see the calcutions running behind her eyes.

  "I have obligations to corporate oversight," she said finally.

  "And I have obligations to this team's safety," he countered. "Find a bance."

  A long silence stretched between them. Alexander maintained steady eye contact, neither aggressive nor submissive. Just waiting.

  "I can work within certain parameters," Valeria conceded finally. "But I need to report something about your brother's perceptual abilities. It's a priority directive."

  Alexander considered this. "You can report observable facts only. What he does, not theories about how or why. No specution about the source."

  Another pause as she considered. "Acceptable."

  "One more thing," Alexander added. "The team doesn't need to know the details of this conversation. As far as they're concerned, we've simply crified communication protocols."

  Valeria nodded, understanding the olive branch for what it was—a way for her to save face.

  "I've always respected your leadership potential, Alexander. Even in my reports." She straightened her already perfect posture. "I believe we can find a workable arrangement."

  Alexander extended his hand. "Then we understand each other."

  They shook hands briefly, both aware that while nothing was truly resolved, a new equilibrium had been established.

  "Training begins in twenty minutes," Alexander said, switching smoothly back to team leader mode. "Let's not be te."

  That evening, Alexander met with Lyra and Elijah in his quarters, using Lyra's secure channel to prevent any monitoring.

  "So you just... talked it out?" Lyra asked, incredulous. "And she agreed to show you her reports?"

  "People respond to clear boundaries and reasonable options," Alexander replied. "Valeria is pragmatic. Total secrecy wasn't working anymore, so she adapted."

  "Do you trust her?" Elijah asked.

  Alexander considered the question. "I trust her to act in her own best interest, which for now aligns with cooperating. It's not friendship, it's strategic alignment."

  Lyra snorted. "Very corporate of you."

  "Sometimes corporate thinking has its uses," Alexander admitted with a slight smile. "The important thing is we've established control over what information leaves our team."

  "What about Riva?" Elijah asked. "Does she need to know?"

  Alexander shook his head. "Not the specifics. She just needs to know that communications are being standardized for security reasons."

  Lyra leaned back against the wall, studying Alexander with an expression he couldn't quite read. "You handled that better than I expected."

  Coming from Lyra, that was high praise. Alexander nodded acknowledgment.

  "We should get some sleep," he said. "River Leviathan training tomorrow, and Captain Verna won't accept surveilnce drama as an excuse for poor performance."

  As Elijah headed for the door, Alexander stopped Lyra with a light touch on her arm.

  "That signal detector you built," he said quietly. "Good work."

  Lyra shrugged, but he caught the hint of pride she tried to hide. "Just lucky with the parts."

  "Right," Alexander said, not pushing further. "Just lucky."

  After they left, Alexander updated their team status in his private notes:

  Team Status:- Communications protocol established with Valeria- Corporate reporting continues with oversight- Elijah's 'premonitions- Lyra's technical capabilities proven valuable again- Team cohesion maintained despite security concerns- Next priority: River Leviathan training with outpost personnelAs he prepared for sleep, Alexander reflected on how differently this confrontation might have gone just a few weeks ago. Before the Game, he would have reported Valeria's surveilnce directly to his father, seeking approval for his handling of the situation. Now, he had acted independently, protecting his team without corporate guidance.

  His father's reports were right about one thing—Alexander was indeed developing "concerning independence" from established protocols. And for the first time, that realization brought satisfaction rather than anxiety.

  Tomorrow they would continue training as if nothing had changed. But underneath, everything had shifted—another small step away from the path his father had designed for him, and toward something of his own making.