The guard's quarters were steeped in shadow, the dim overhead light casting a dull, yellowish glow over the room. The faint hum of machinery pulsed through the metal walls, a constant, mechanical heartbeat. It was quiet-too quiet.

  The kind of silence that settled heavy, pressing against the ribs.

  Robert stepped inside, letting the door shut with a soft, deliberate click. His muscles were still tense from his meeting with Albert, his mind replaying every carefully phrased question, every calculating glance. There had been something unnatural about the entire exchange-like being studied under a microscope by a scientist more interested in his reactions than his answers.

  Across the cramped room, Michiel sat at a scuffed metal table, one boot propped up against the chair beside him. His fingers idly traced the edges of a strange metallic belt lying between them. It glinted under the flickering light, bulky and unassuming, yet something about it felt wrong.

  Michiel looked up, a lazy smirk curling at the corner of his lips. "Well, well. Look who finally decided to show up."

  Robert sighed, rolling his shoulders as he strode forward. He felt the weight of the day settling deep in his bones. "I swear, this better be some great fucking news, Michiel-"

  Michiel chuckled, kicking the chair opposite him out just enough for Robert to take the hint.

  "Relax. Just a little...

  Information." He tapped the belt with two fingers. "Got a surprise for you."

  Robert hesitated for half a second before lowering himself into the chair. He let out a dry chuckle, rubbing a hand over his face. "Unless that surprise involves me not dealing with Albert's mind games, I think I'll pass." His jaw tensed slightly. "That exam was something else."

  Michiel raised an eyebrow, feigning curiosity as he leaned forward on his elbows. "Weird how?"

  Robert exhaled sharply, drumming his fingers against the table. His mind raced back to Albert's gaze-the sharp stare that dissected him. He hadn't just been asking questions. He had been weighing him, measuring him like a piece of machinery being assessed for function or failure.

  "He wasn't just testing loyalty," Robert muttered, shaking his head. "It was like... he was hunting for something. Something more than a traitor."

  Michiel let out a low whistle. "Classic Albert.

  Always two steps ahead of everyone else in a game only he knows the rules to."

  Robert scoffed. "Feels more like a game where he makes the rules up as he goes."

  Michiel grinned. "And somehow, we're all still playing."

  Robert didn't answer. The uneasy feeling from his earlier meeting hadn't faded, and Michiel's usual smugness wasn't helping. He turned his attention to the object on the table, finally giving it a proper look. It was a belt, though not like any he'd seen before. The material was a strange alloy, unnaturally smooth. Thin etchings ran along its surface-symbols, calculations, something intricate and deliberate.

  A small, almost imperceptible hum vibrated through it, like a caged pulse of energy waiting to be unleashed.

  Robert frowned. "What is this?"

  Michiel's smirk deepened, a glint of intrigue flickering in his eyes. He slid the belt closer.

  "Albert calls it an enhancing belt."

  Robert's fingers curled around it, turning it over in his hands. The weight was heavier than it looked, solid but balanced. He traced one of the etched lines with his thumb, a strange sensation prickling at the back of his mind-like standing too close to a live wire.

  "Enhancing," he echoed. "What exactly does it... enhance?"

  Michiel's gaze darkened slightly, his posture shifting as he leaned in just a fraction.

  "According to Albert, it gives the wearer a boost." His voice dipped lower, more discreet.

  "Strength. Speed. Reflexes. Maybe even more.

  Whatever you need to get an edge."

  A chill ran down Robert's spine. He placed the belt back on the table, rubbing his palms together as if trying to shake off the lingering sensation.

  "You make it sound like magic," he said, forcing a lightness into his tone that he didn't feel.

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  Michiel shrugged. "Maybe it is. Or maybe it's science pushed so far past the limits that it feels like magic." He paused, watching Robert carefully. "Either way... it works."

  Robert exhaled, leaning back. His mind raced through the implications. He knew Albert was obsessed with control, with pushing boundaries

  —but this? This was something else.

  Something dangerous.

  And yet, some small, treacherous part of him whispered- What if it's true? Could the belt be the answer to saving Edwin?

  He met Michiel's gaze, searching for the real reason behind this little display. "And what exactly does Albert plan to do with it?"

  Michiel tapped the belt once, twice, letting the silence stretch. Then, finally, he grinned. But it didn't reach his eyes.

  "That," he said, voice smooth as steel, "is the real question, isn't it?"

  Robert stared at the belt, its metal surface catching the light.

  Robert arched an eyebrow, skepticism tightening his features. "And how exactly does it work?"

  Michiel leaned back, his usual smirk in place, lazy and unconcerned. "You wear it."

  Robert waited. The silence stretched. His fingers drummed once against the table. "And?"

  "That's all I know." Michiel's grin didn't fade, but something in his tone shifted—a quiet caution threading beneath the words. He lowered his voice, glancing around as if the walls themselves had ears. "But fair warning—there's a needle on the inside of the buckle."

  Robert's fingers stiffened around the belt. His jaw tightened as he flipped it over, inspecting it with renewed wariness. Sure enough, nestled discreetly along the interior was a thin, gleaming needle, barely visible against the metal. Small, sharp, and pointing at the wearer.

  His eyes flicked back up to Michiel, whose face remained unreadable.

  "So let me get this straight." His voice was slow, deliberate. "It's a belt... with a hidden needle that stabs you? Sounds more like torture than a

  'boost."

  Michiel waved a dismissive hand, but the lightness in his expression was more forced now.

  "No, no. It's got all sorts of mechanisms in there

  -gears, gadgets... the works. Some of the lab guys took it apart to study it. Put it back together before Albert even noticed."

  Robert's expression darkened. His grip on the belt tightened for a moment before he set it down with careful precision. His voice was flat, edged with something unreadable. "And I'm supposed to just... trust that it won't stab me to death?" Robert frowned, conflicted, then let out a sigh and pushed the belt back.

  Michiel sighed, the smirk slipping slightly. "Come on, man." He leaned forward, his tone lowering into something more serious. "You wanted an edge. This is it. You're talking about the Fifth Level here. You'll need all the help you can get."

  Robert hesitated. His gaze drifted back to the belt, its cold, unyielding metal catching the dim light.

  "You're telling me Albert's inventing... blood-draining gadgets to 'boost' us?" His voice was quiet now, almost to himself.

  Michiel shrugged again, but his expression gave nothing away. "Maybe it does something with our blood-it's your call." He slid the belt back across the table, his gaze locking onto Robert's.

  The air between them thickened, charged with something unspoken.

  Robert exhaled slowly, his fingers brushing the belt once more. The weight of it felt heavier now, like something more than just machinery.

  Michiel’s face tightened, but he kept his gaze steady. “No one else had the guts to try it. You’ve got nothing left to lose, Robert, and everything to gain.”

  "What makes you think l'd risk it?" Robert asked, his voice steady despite the unease creeping in.

  Michiel’s gaze held steady, a knowing look flashing across his face. “Because I know what you did for Edwin.”

  Robert froze, his fingers curling into fists. He shot a cold, piercing glare at Michiel. “How the hell do you know that?”

  Michiel’s tone was calm, casual, but his eyes stayed sharp. “Call it intuition.”

  Robert clenched his jaw, his voice low and harsh. “Does Albert know?”

  “If he does, he’s kept it to himself. Lately, he’s been… distracted. Absences, unexplained meetings.” Michiel shook his head, lowering his voice even further. “I doubt he’s pieced it together—or he’s ignoring it altogether.”

  Robert took a shaky breath, his mind racing as he weighed the options. Finally, he reached for the table, his hand resting on the belt once more.

  The air in the dimly lit chamber felt heavier now, thick with the unspoken truths lingering between them. The belt sat between Robert and Michiel like an unlit fuse, waiting for someone to strike the match.

  "You might be right," Robert murmured, his voice barely more than a breath. He wasn't looking at Michiel, but rather past him, as if seeing something neither of them could fully grasp. "In the meeting we had, there was something... off.

  Albert mentioned another Council Member."

  Michiel's lips curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Oh? Was it General Marcus, perhaps?"

  Robert's head snapped up, eyes widening just slightly. The flicker of shock was all Michiel needed. He chuckled, a low, knowing sound.

  "Now we're even," he said smoothly, tilting his head. "I know you helped Edwin. And you know I'm the mole Albert's been looking for."

  The color drained from Robert's face. "Are you insane? Jesus Christ, man." His voice was tight, barely restrained panic laced beneath the words.

  Michiel merely shrugged. "Albert won't find me.

  That's why he's only checking the guards right now. I think all that talk of testing everyone was just a ploy-to get a reaction, to make someone slip." He let that sink in, watching Robert absorb it. "Once he's gone through the guards, he'll drop it. He has to."

  Robert exhaled sharply, his hands clenched into fists. "It's only going to get more dangerous if he doesn't find you."

  Michiel didn't flinch. He had already made peace with that truth. "More reason for you to keep this, then," he said, nodding toward the belt. His tone was even, but there was something edged beneath it-something final. "Just so you know, we made a replica to give back to him if he ever asks for it."

  Robert hesitated, staring down at the belt as though it might burn him. A strange mix of emotions twisted inside him-gratitude, unease, something bordering on fear. This was bigger than either of them.

  "Thank you for doing this," he said at last, his voice quieter now, stripped of pretense. "I know it couldn't have been easy." He met Michiel's gaze. "I'll keep your secret."

  Michiel held his stare for a long moment before nodding. "We've all got our part to play."

  He stood, his usual ease masking the weight of their conversation. But just before he reached the door, he paused, glancing back. His face was uncharacteristically serious.

  "Oh, one last thing." His voice was softer now, almost reluctant. "Albert... passed out the last time he wore that thing." He nodded toward the belt. "Whatever it does, it'll take something from you, too."

  Robert's breath caught, but he forced his expression to remain impassive. He had suspected as much, but hearing it spoken aloud made it real.

  His heart pounded.

  Slowly, deliberately, he wrapped it around his waist. The clasp clicked into place, a mechanical whisper of inevitability.

  A sharp sting lanced through his side-the unmistakable prick of a needle sinking into flesh.

  His breath hitched, but he didn't move, didn't falter. He simply pulled his shirt down over it, straightened his shoulders, and stepped into the hallway.

  Whatever was coming next, he had already crossed the threshold.

  There was no turning back now.