They left the underground camp in three small groups.
Not a convoy, not a line just pockets of people disappearing into different tunnels as if the city itself were swallowing them.
Aiden walked in the middle group, beside Kael.
The air down here felt thicker, full of damp concrete and old electricity. Pipes ran along the ceiling, sweating condensation. Someone up ahead carried a small orb of light, its glow barely bright enough to show where the floor broke or dipped.
"Keep your hoods up," Lysa said quietly. "If any surface cams catch a glimpse through a grate, I want shadows, not faces."
Behind them, the camp's noise faded: murmured arguments, clatter of tools, a distant radio trying to pull in news from above.
The news had found them first.
One of Lysa's runners jogged up, breathing hard, a battered handheld screen in his grip.
"Signal scraped from a surface node," he said. "You should see this."
Lysa took the device, eyes scanning the flickering feed. Then she handed it to Aiden.
The screen showed a crisp, official broadcast overlaying a blurred clip of the tunnel ambush. Text crawled underneath in clean Department font.
ROGUE AGENT UNDER DEVIANT INFLUENCE.
SUBJECT E‑73 POSSESSES UNCLASSIFIED MANIPULATIVE CAPABILITIES.
The anchor's voice came thin and distorted through the tunnel walls.
"…experts suggest that prolonged exposure to high‑output Deviant fields can compromise even a trained agent's judgment. Sources inside the Department emphasize that this is not a failure of procedure, but evidence of the extreme danger posed by unregulated magic…"
The image cut to a holo of Aiden's ID photo.
Underneath his name, two words had been added.
POTENTIALLY COMPROMISED.
Aiden's jaw clenched.
"So that's the story," he said.
"Better than 'the Director's son decided we're the bad guys,'" Lysa said. "For them, anyway."
The runner cleared his throat.
"It's not just the news feed," he said. "Old Lioren House made a statement. Some cousin or uncle important enough to get airtime. They're pushing the same line."
"What line?" Aiden asked, even though he knew.
"That you've been manipulated," the runner said. "That the Deviant used some kind of power on you. That you're not responsible for what you did."
Kael made a small, strangled sound.
"Fantastic," he said. "They've turned me into the evil mind‑control monster."
Aiden passed the screen back, the image fading as the signal sputtered out.
"They can't accept a voluntary betrayal," he said quietly. "If I chose this, then there's something wrong with the system, not just me."
"So they blame the shiny dangerous Deviant," Kael said. "Nice and simple."
Lysa shot him a look.
"Careful," she said. "Some people down here are going to love that narrative."
Kael frowned. "Why?"
"Because it makes you powerful," Lysa replied. "Not just lightning and explosions. The idea that you can twist the Director's own son? That's going to scare them upstairs and inspire some people down here."
Kael's shoulders tightened.
"I didn't twist anything," he said. "He walked."
"I know that," Lysa said. "You know that. The city doesn't."
She glanced at Aiden.
"And your family would rather think you're cursed than admit you walked away from the Order of the shiny armor," she added.
Aiden's throat went tight at the mention of his family.
The Lioren name had always come with a script: a history of officers, commanders, careful men and women who did what the Department asked and called it duty. He could picture the statement they'd written dignified, regretful, full of concern.
We believe our son has fallen under the influence of an unprecedented magical threat…
"That's the only way they can love me and stay loyal," he said. "So they choose the version where I'm broken instead of wrong."
Kael's gaze softened, just for a second.
"Does it bother you?" he asked. "That they'd rather think you're not in your right mind?"
"Yes," Aiden said. "And no. It makes it easier for them. But it erases the fact that I chose this."
"Welcome," Lysa said lightly, "to the experience of being rewritten by people who need a simpler story."
They walked in silence for a few moments.
The tunnel narrowed, forcing them into single file. Water dripped steadily from a cracked pipe overhead. Somewhere far above, Aiden thought he heard the faint thrum of surface traffic.
Kael stumbled on a broken tile.
Aiden caught his elbow.
"You good?" he asked.
"Just thinking too hard," Kael said. "Dangerous habit."
He nodded toward the dark ahead.
"We getting close?" he asked Lysa.
"Almost," she said. "The old substation is past the next junction. No regular patrols, but shield drift in this area is weird. That's why Taro likes it for delicate work. Magic doesn't echo as much."
"Delicate work like ripping a collar off my neck," Kael said.
"Exactly," Lysa replied.
------
The old substation sat behind a rusted metal door marked with a faded warning symbol.
Taro keyed a sequence into a small box wired to the frame. The old lock mechanism whined, then clanked open.
"Welcome to my favorite headache," he said, pushing the door wide.
Inside, the space was larger than Aiden expected a high‑ceilinged room with rows of dead consoles and thick cables running into the walls. Dust lay thick on everything. Someone had cleared a patch in the center, where a table and a cluster of jury‑rigged equipment waited.
"You sure this place is safe?" Kael asked, eyeing the cables.
"As safe as anything gets under ten meters of concrete," Taro said. "The walls are lined with old shield mesh. No clean signal in or out. That's why we have to bring our own."
He set the deactivated wrist band on a metal tray, then turned to Kael.
"On the table," he said. "Back against the plate. Try not to fidget."
Kael climbed up, lowering himself until his shoulders rested against a cold metal panel bolted to the wall.
The collar hummed, reacting to the proximity of old power lines.
"Comfortable," Kael said.
"If you wanted comfort, you stayed in your cell," Taro replied.
He began arranging small devices around the edge of the collar flat disks with glowing runes, each adhering to the metal with a faint click.
Aiden stepped closer.
"What exactly are you doing?" he asked.
"Trying to convince a stubborn piece of hardware that it wants to let go," Taro said. "The collar runs suppression and pain through the same core. If I just cut it, it dumps everything into his nervous system on the way out. Bad day for everyone."
"So you're… rerouting it?" Aiden asked.
"Something like that," Taro said. "We're building a fake path. When we trigger it, the collar will try to dump its energy into this circuit instead of his spine. If we time it right, it burns itself out before it realizes it's been tricked."
"And if you time it wrong?" Kael asked.
"Then you'll have a very intense, very short experience," Taro said. "Try not to move while we find out which."
Aiden's hands curled into fists.
"Is there another way?" he asked. "Something slower. Less… suicidal."
"Sure," Taro said. "We could wait until the Department finds us, asks nicely for their property back, and uses the master key. If they don't decide to just turn it up to maximum first."
"So no," Kael said. "No other way."
"Not if you want to keep your head," Taro replied. "And your mind."
He checked the last disk, then stepped back.
"Okay," he said. "Here's the part that sucks. I need you to push a little current through the collar from the inside. Just enough to wake the core up. If it doesn't feel anything, it won't try to dump. It'll just sit there."
"You want me to feed power into the thing that's designed to hurt me for using power," Kael said.
"That's the gist," Taro said. "We're going to open the door right as you kick. If we nail the timing, it throws the punch into my circuit instead of your nerves."
Kael let his head fall back against the metal.
"Great," he said. "Love a plan with 'if we nail the timing' in it."
Aiden stepped to the side of the table, close enough to touch Kael's arm.
"What happens if his magic spikes?" he asked Taro. "If the collar triggers the pain core and the suppression at the same time?"
"Then he screams a lot and I yank the failsafe," Taro said. "And we try again in… well, we won't be trying again."
Aiden's stomach twisted.
"How long will they be able to track the collar if it stays on?" he asked.
"As long as it's powered," Taro said. "Even in low‑signal areas, they'll get pings. You saw what happened with the band. You really want to keep a live beacon around his throat?"
"No," Aiden said.
He looked at Kael.
"I won't let Mara find you like this," he said softly. "Collared, half‑suppressed, still carrying their brand."
"You say the sweetest things," Kael said. "Fine. Let's fry the thing."
Lysa had been standing by the door, arms folded, scanning the route map on a portable screen. She looked up.
"We don't have unlimited time," she said. "Task force routes are already shifting. They'll sweep this sector sooner rather than later."
"I'll be quick," Taro said. "Quick-ish."
He moved to the main console he'd set up a Frankenstein of old substation panel and new tech.
"Everyone who doesn't need to be right next to the conductive idiot," he nodded at Kael, "step back behind the yellow line. If something goes wrong, I don't want to have to explain why half the team woke up with ringing teeth."
Lysa stepped back.
Aiden didn't move.
"I'm not leaving him," he said.
"You don't have to," Taro said. "Just don't grab the collar with your bare hands if it lights up. Unless you really miss your own nervous system."
"Noted," Aiden said.
He rested his hand lightly on the edge of the table, close enough that Kael could see it.
Kael looked at him.
"Think your family's watching this somewhere?" Kael asked, voice low.
"They probably prefer the version where you wave your hand and my eyes go blank," Aiden said. "Some neat little mind trick that explains everything."
"And here I am," Kael said, "about to prove them partly right. Using my scary Deviant powers to drag you deeper into trouble."
"You're not controlling me," Aiden said.
"I know," Kael replied. "That's what makes this worse."
He drew in a long breath, closing his eyes.
"Tell me when," he said to Taro.
Taro checked his readings.
"On my count," he said. "Three… two… one… go."
Kael reached inward.
Aiden felt it before he saw it the way the air around the table tightened, the subtle static that raised the hairs on his arms. Light flickered under Kael's skin, chasing the lines of muscle and bone like thin streams of lightning.
The collar woke up.
Its rune ring flared, going from soft blue to bright white in an instant. The hum became a sharp, rising whine.
"He's in," Taro said through his teeth. "Hold it, Kael. Just a little more."
Kael's jaw locked.
Sweat beaded on his forehead.
"Feels like… chewing glass," he ground out.
The metal around his throat pulsed, tightening.
Aiden stepped closer despite himself.
"Easy," he said. "You're doing it."
The white light sharpened.
The air smelled suddenly of hot metal.
"Now," Taro whispered, fingers flying over the console. "Come on, come on—"
One of the disks at the collar's edge flared to life, runes burning bright gold as it caught the surge.
The others followed, lighting in sequence.
For a moment, the collar and the improvised circuit fought over the current, sparks jumping between them in jagged arcs.
Kael gasped.
His back arched against the plate, hands fisting at his sides. The collar tightened another fraction, pressing into his skin.
For a second, Aiden thought it was going to crush his throat before it ever let go.