A Choice of Allegiance

The air in the small interrogation room was thick with the scent of stale coffee and desperation. Elias Thorne, or rather, the man who called himself Elias Thorne in this life, sat across from Commander Valerius. The polished table between them was a stark, unforgiving surface, reflecting the grim set of Valerius’s jaw. Seven years had passed since Elias had last seen this face, a face that had once been the very embodiment of the Shadow Dragons’ unyielding authority. Valerius hadn't aged; he had merely calcified, each line etched into his skin a testament to a life lived in the shadows, dedicated to an unwavering mission.

“You look well, Thorne,” Valerius’s voice was a low rumble, devoid of warmth, like stones grinding together. It was the voice Elias had once obeyed without question, the voice that had instilled discipline and fear in equal measure. He’d recognized Valerius the moment the man had materialized from the periphery of his carefully constructed civilian world, a ghost from a life he’d fought so hard to bury.

Elias offered a tight, controlled smile, a practiced mask he’d worn for so long it felt more natural than genuine emotion. “And you, Commander. Time has been kind.” A lie, of course. Time had been a brutal sculptor, carving Elias into something new, something that had no place in the world Valerius represented.