DCU: Split

The phone rang once before Kane picked it up, his response immediate and impatient, "Speak."

On the other end, the man didn't bother with formality. His breathing was uneven, his words coming out too fast. "Sir—we were attacked last night. Me and the guards were knocked out. None of the alarms sounded. Nothing triggered." His voice wavered despite his attempt to stay composed.

Kane stood up so quickly his chair slid back across the floor. "Did they access the tunnels?" he asked, his tone sharp and direct.

There was a brief pause before the man answered, stumbling over his words. "Y-yes, sir."

Kane didn't waste time reacting. "I'll be there shortly. Don't call anyone else."

Another pause followed, heavier this time, and when the man spoke again his fear was more obvious. "S-sorry, sir. We followed protocol. The other emergency contacts are being informed right now."

Kane stopped moving.

He didn't respond immediately, and when he did, his voice had dropped into something quieter and more controlled. "How many?"

"All primary contacts, sir," the man replied. "Everyone on the list."

Kane processed that without outward reaction. The situation had already spread beyond a single point of failure. This was no longer something he could contain quietly, and that meant he had to assume multiple members would be moving at once, each with their own interpretation of what had happened.

"Lock down your position," Kane said. "No one enters or leaves. I want every access point watched until I arrive."

"Yes, sir."

Kane ended the call and lowered the phone slowly, his grip tightening just enough to show the strain he was holding back. They had gotten into the tunnels, which meant they had either bypassed security in a way that shouldn't have been possible or someone had helped them do it. Neither option was acceptable.

He moved toward the door, already adjusting his plans. The idea of a traitor had been circulating for some time, but until now it had been speculation, something useful for applying pressure when needed. This changed the situation. Whether the threat was real or not, people would start acting as if it was, and that alone would create instability.

As he stepped into the hallway, his phone began to buzz again with incoming calls. He glanced at the screen briefly before continuing forward. The network had already been alerted, which meant responses were already forming. Some would be cautious. Others would overreact. Either way, it gave him an opportunity to observe.

He kept walking, his pace steady as he headed out. Whatever had happened in the tunnels, he would see it for himself soon enough, and when he did, he intended to understand exactly how it had unfolded and who had been involved.

Kane's car came to a controlled stop in front of the house, its engine barely settling before the door opened and he stepped out. From the outside, the place still held its image—aged, preserved, intentionally historical. To anyone passing by, it would look untouched.

Kane knew better the moment he saw it up close.

The damage wasn't obvious, but it was there if you knew where to look. The front entry had been forced with precision rather than brute strength. The frame held, but the alignment was off by just enough to catch his eye. There were faint scuffs along the flooring just inside, marks left by boots moving quickly and with purpose. Someone had come through here who knew what they were doing, and they hadn't needed to make a mess to do it.

His bodyguards stayed tight around him as he entered, their attention already sweeping the space. Kane didn't slow down. He moved through the house with certainty, following the path that led below.

The man from the phone call was waiting near the concealed entrance. He looked worse in person. Pale, tense, standing too rigid like he didn't trust his own footing anymore.

Kane's eyes landed on him immediately. "Have the others arrived?"

"Yes, sir," the man answered quickly, his voice still carrying the edge of earlier panic. He tried to steady it and failed. "Mrs. Powers reportedly entered through a different access point. She said to inform you that you can convene in the meeting room."

There was a slight pause after he said it, the uncertainty slipping through despite his effort to sound official.

He didn't know where that room was.

He didn't know what existed beyond the immediate section he'd been assigned to guard.

Kane didn't acknowledge the hesitation. He simply moved past him and continued forward, descending into the tunnels without another word.

The temperature dropped as he went lower, the air heavier, the structure shifting from the curated illusion above into something older and more functional. The labyrinth stretched ahead, quiet in a way that didn't feel natural.

Behind him, his bodyguards followed.

The man from the surface did not.

A few seconds passed after Kane disappeared into the tunnels before the sound came—muted, controlled. Silenced gunfire, quick and efficient, followed by the dull impact of bodies hitting the floor.

Then nothing.

Kane didn't look back.

Kane moved deeper into the tunnels without breaking stride, his pace steady as the environment shifted from structured passageways into something more uneven and old. The lighting grew dimmer in places, harsher in others, casting long shadows along the stone and metal supports that reinforced the corridors.

He came across the first body without warning.

A Talon.

The figure lay crumpled near the wall, armor compromised, mask fractured just enough to expose pale, lifeless skin beneath. A small pool of blood had spread outward, dark against the ground. It hadn't been a prolonged fight. Clean work. Efficient.

Kane slowed, but he didn't stop.

More bodies followed as he continued forward, spaced irregularly along the path as if marking the route taken by whoever had come through. Some showed signs of close-quarters engagement—broken limbs, precise trauma. Others had been dropped at range. All of them were down.

It struck him, not as shock, but as irritation.

Talon operatives were not easy to produce or maintain. They were assets refined over time, controlled and deployed with care. Seeing them like this—discarded, neutralized without ceremony—carried a cost beyond the immediate loss.

A waste of resources.

His expression didn't change as he stepped past another body, but the thought settled firmly in his mind. Whoever had come through here hadn't just breached the tunnels. They had done so with enough force and coordination to cut through multiple Talons without losing momentum.

That required planning.

And knowledge.

Kane continued on, his focus narrowing as the implications aligned.

***

Kane stepped through the doorway into the meeting room without slowing, his posture controlled even as his eyes immediately registered the change.

The body was still there.

One of the men from the night before lay on the floor where he had fallen, blood dried into the stone beneath him. The position hadn't been altered. No one had touched him. No one had cleaned anything. The room had been preserved.

Kane forced himself not to react.

He had sent them here.

Whatever had happened after that was a consequence of that decision, and showing hesitation now would serve no purpose. His gaze moved past the body as if it were just another detail in the room.

The others had already gathered.

Mrs. Powers stood near the table, composed as always, her attention sharp and observant as she took in both the room and the people in it. Lincoln March lingered closer to the center, his posture rigid, eyes already narrowing as he assessed the scene. Sebastian Clark stood off to the side, older but no less imposing, his presence carrying the weight of someone who had seen the Court through far worse than this. Two others remained nearby, silent for now, watching and listening.

Sebastian spoke first, his tone edged with irritation more than fear. "So you saw the Talons?" he said, looking directly at Kane. "I step away for a short time, and I come back to this. What exactly has happened here?"

Kane frowned slightly, though it was measured rather than emotional. "I'm not sure yet," he replied. "I arrived not long before you."

Lincoln's attention shifted to the body on the ground, his expression tightening. "How did this fool even gain access to this room?" he asked. "He's a minor member. He shouldn't have clearance for this level."

Mrs. Powers nodded in agreement, her gaze moving across the room with a more critical eye now. "He wasn't alone," she said. "Look around. This wasn't a single intrusion. Someone had time to move, to place things."

That was enough to change the tone of the room.

Sebastian stepped forward, pulling a chair closer to the wall before climbing onto it with a quiet grunt. He leaned toward a narrow crevice near the upper stonework, his fingers probing carefully before he paused.

"Bugs," he said.

The word shifted everything.

"Check under the chairs and tables," he added as he climbed back down.

Movement spread through the room immediately. The others began searching, lifting edges, running hands along the undersides of furniture, inspecting seams and joints that would have gone unnoticed under normal circumstances.

Kane remained still for a moment longer than the rest, his mind already racing ahead of what they were about to find. He kept his expression neutral, but internally the realization was sharp and unwelcome.

This had gone further than expected.

"Bugs here too," Mrs. Powers said, her voice cutting through the room as she straightened from where she had checked beneath her usual seat. There was no mistaking the implication.

Someone was trying to listen in to the courts meetings. No that's just the surface. The people in the room knew what it represented, someone in the court wanted to bug their own room and the only ones with access and the knowledge to get here are those in the main fold.

"Looks like they were never activated." One of the other men said

And the intruders didn't even care to piggy back off of the idea.

Kane exhaled slowly, smoothing over the tension before it could show. "Looks like we've found our rat," he said, his tone controlled, almost casual.

Mrs. Powers reacted immediately, turning toward him with a sharpness that didn't bother hiding itself. "Hardly," she replied. "You said yourself the suspected leak had access to your routes, your movements, and higher-level discussions. This man wouldn't have had that kind of reach."

Lincoln nodded slightly, his eyes still on the body. "And he's dead," he added. "Killed by whoever came through here. That doesn't suggest cooperation. It suggests he was in the way."

"Which means," Mrs. Powers continued, "whoever entered this space already knew about it. They didn't need him."

The implication settled into the room, heavier than anything said before.

Kane didn't respond immediately.

Sebastian, meanwhile, had gone quiet. He wasn't looking at the bugs anymore. He wasn't looking at the body.

He was watching the room.

Watching how the conversation moved.

Watching where the suspicion naturally began to drift. And it was drifting towards Kane. It looks like he had a lot of catching up to do since his short absence.

—

A/N: I'm going on vacation! Don't be alarmed if I miss a chapter or am late. I'll try to keep on schedule though !