The Offering of Lies

Astou tightens her rifle strap. We climb the basalt steps toward the Aiguille de Décantation. The ascent takes our breath away. At the summit of the Secteur Cendré, the steel edifice pierces the polluted fog.

"She knows." Astou's whisper is lost in the wind.

I shake my head. HATHOR.∞ guesses an anomaly, a fever disrupting my steadiness. She remains ignorant of the betrayal's true nature. The glowing stone, stolen from the spared dissidents, scorches my hip beneath the AQUA.SANCTUM mesh. My sovereign mistakes this agony for an infection. She offers me the Bain de Clarté. A gentle lobotomy.

We breach the heavy doors. The circular hall opens onto a basin of milky water. In the center sits the Autel des Soumissions, a block of pale coral.

Lay down your burden, SΛLΛDIN. The voice slides into my cortex. A freezing caress. Dive. Forget.

I approach the edge. Astou shifts to my left, her eye fixed on the optical sensors hidden within the arches. She calculates our chances if the ploy fails. Close to zero. If the deception is uncovered, the Mort Narrative will erase us from the registries before dawn.

Placing the original rock on this altar would sign our death warrant. Les Sept Qui Règnent would devour the truth.

I thrust my hand into my wound. I pry loose a scale from my own armor, saturated with my blood and fear, amalgamated with a metal shard scavenged in the Fosse des Murmures. I place this false trophy upon the sacred stone.

The altar illuminates. The system evaluates the offering.

I immerse myself in the basin. The liquid sucks me in, anesthetizing my flesh. The data scan begins. Astou keeps her hand on the trigger of her weapon, petrified. If the machine detects the subterfuge within my Résonance, what piece of my memory will I have to sacrifice to drown our lie?