Chương 152: Chapter 149. Conspiracy

"Fascinating." Adom leaned back in his chair, studying the unconscious changeling tied to the opposite seat. They'd moved to one of Valiant's safe houses—a nondescript building in the artisan quarter that looked like it stored pottery but actually stored people who needed to disappear for a while.

"What's fascinating?" Valiant asked. He was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, looking like he was trying to figure out if he should be impressed or worried about Adom's methods.

"He's unconscious," Adom said, "and yet he's retained the form he changed to." Valiant squinted at the changeling. Average height, brown hair, the kind of face that belonged on a dozen different wanted posters but never quite matched any of them perfectly.

"Or maybe this is his real form?" Adom shook his head.

"I've read descriptions of changelings. Seen sketches from Imperial archives. Their natural form isn't human. Not even humanoid."

"Then what is it?"

"Closer to slimes, actually." Valiant blinked.

"Slimes? Like, the things that eat garbage in sewers?"

"Similar concept. Different biology." Adom gestured at the changeling.

"They're essentially shapeshifters with no fixed form. Pure adaptability. This human appearance? It's a choice he's maintaining even while unconscious. That suggests either incredible control, or—" The changeling's eyelids twitched.

"—or he's starting to wake up," Adom finished quietly.

"Oh!" Valiant straightened up immediately.

"Okay, okay. You be the good guard, and I'll be the bad one. Classic approach. I come in aggressive, you offer him water and sympathy, he spills everything."

"We're not doing that."

"Come on, it's a proven technique."

"It's also going to turn into you getting distracted and asking him about changeling biology for twenty minutes."

"I would not—okay, I might do that. But the principle—""Valiant." Adom looked at him steadily.

"Can you promise me you'll stay calm, listen more than you talk, and ask focused questions without getting sidetracked into conversations about shapeshifting theory?" Valiant opened his mouth immediately.

"I can totally focus! I'm great at focusing! And I have experience with interrogations, and I know how to read people, and if he tries to shift I can spot the tells because I've studied this stuff, and honestly I think you're underestimating how useful I could be in here because—""Out." Valiant stopped mid-sentence. He was quiet for a long moment, actually processing what had just happened.

"Okay, fine!" He threw his hands up.

"Fiiiine. I'm out. But I'm staying right outside this door."

"I know you are."

"And if he turns into a dragon or something, what are you gonna do then?."

"Changelings can't turn into dragons."

"How do you—never mind. I don't want to know how you know that." The door closed with a soft click. Adom settled back in his chair and waited. The changeling's eyelids were fluttering now, and his fingers had started twitching against the rope bonds. Any moment now. The changeling's eyes opened slowly, unfocused at first. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision. His gaze wandered around the room—bare walls, a single table, two chairs. Then his eyes found Adom.

Confusion flickered across his face for maybe three seconds. Then it turned to panic. He jerked against the ropes, testing them frantically. The chair creaked but held firm.

"You're bound," Adom said calmly.

"There's no need to try freeing yourself. Those bindings were designed for creatures much stronger than you." The changeling kept struggling for another few seconds before stopping, breathing hard.

"Please," he said.

"Please just let me go. I haven't done anything."

"No." The flat response seemed to catch him off guard. He stared at Adom, probably trying to figure out what kind of person he was dealing with.

"I took some dangerous things from you," Adom continued.

"When I searched you, I didn't find even half the artifacts and papers that should have been there. Where are the rest?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the changeling said immediately. One of the crystals on the table flared bright red. Both of them looked at it. The changeling's face went pale.

"Oh," Adom said.

"I forgot to mention. The wires connected to your body and those two crystals work in a simple way. If you lie, the red one lights up. If you tell the truth, the green one does. So. Let's try this again." He leaned forward slightly.

"Where are the rest of my artifacts and research papers?" The changeling said nothing. Adom sighed.

"Electricity can kill you people, you know." He met the changeling's eyes.

"Do you want to die?" The changeling flinched like he'd been slapped. His breathing got faster. Adom really hoped he wouldn't have to go the torture route. Changelings were rare. It would be cruel to kill one, even one who'd stolen from him. On the other hand, he had to be pragmatic about this.

Every second that passed was another second his research might be changing hands, moving through a network until it reached someone who could either cause massive destruction in the city or a different part of the world or even understand it well enough to replicate it. That could open a whole other set of problems that would make the current situation look simple. Fortunately, it seemed like this particular changeling wasn't the type who'd been trained to endure interrogation. His hands were shaking.

"We..." the changeling started, then stopped. Adom frowned. We? Not just him? The changeling seemed to realize his mistake.

"We... meaning I... I don't have them anymore. They're gone." The green crystal flickered weakly. Technically true, but clearly not the whole story.

"You said 'we,'" Adom said.

"Who else was with you?" The changeling's jaw tightened. He didn't answer. Adom leaned back in his chair, thinking. If a changeling had gotten onto the Imperial research island—one of the most secure locations in the empire—and somehow knew to look specifically inside the tower, that meant they were likely part of the guard rotation. Guards were hired by the Archmage, but Adom could easily see the Archmage being deceived.

After all, what better way to infiltrate a place than to literally become someone who belonged there? The logical progression clicked into place. A group of changelings, probably recent arrivals to Arkhos. Their usual habitat was desert, but that was more about hiding than natural preference. These past few years, Arkhos had become an attractive destination for all sorts of people looking for new opportunities.

Maybe one of them had come, seen that the Magisterium posts paid well, gotten hired through whatever process they'd managed to bypass, been assigned to the tower, and then shared what they'd stolen with the others.

"There's a group of you," Adom said. It wasn't a question. The changeling stared at him. After a moment, he nodded once. The green crystal glowed.

"You came to Arkhos recently." Another nod. Green crystal.

"Looking for work." Nod. Green.

"One of you got hired as a guard." Nod. Green.

"Through the normal hiring process." The changeling hesitated, then shook his head. Red crystal. Adom frowned.

"How did you come to know about the tower?" The changeling's mouth opened, then closed. He looked genuinely conflicted, like he wanted to answer but couldn't figure out how to do it safely. Adom studied the changeling's face. He was starting to get a read on what kind of person he was dealing with. Loyal, clearly. And he'd shown no signs of cruelty so far—when the dog had barked at him earlier, he'd just mumbled something under his breath and walked away. A crueler person would have kicked it.

His posture was careful, controlled. The way he'd tested the ropes had been methodical, not panicked. And the conflict in his expression when asked direct questions suggested someone who valued honesty but was caught between competing loyalties.

"That group is your family, isn't it," Adom said. This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. The changeling's eyes widened slightly. His breathing hitched.

"Confirm or deny." The changeling looked away, then back. He nodded once. Green crystal. Perfect. Yes-or-no questions were the best approach here. They didn't give him room to twist his answers or find clever loopholes.

"What's your name?" The changeling hesitated, then mumbled, "Keth-sil."

"Nice to meet you, Keth-sil." Adom kept his tone neutral.

"You seem like a logical, careful person, so I'm going to be direct with you. As long as you stay in Arkhos, I will eventually find your family. I have ears and eyes in every part of this city, and beyond it as well. I found you—a changeling capable of shifting forms and disappearing into crowds. I can find the rest of them too. It'll just take more time. And by then, I'll be very pissed and much less kind than I'm being right now." Keth-sil's face fell.

He looked directly at Adom with something that might have been resignation.

"The things you took," Adom continued, "you have absolutely no idea what could be done with them if the wrong person got hold of them and studied them." He leaned forward.

"Tell me everything. Whatever you're afraid of, I can guarantee protection." Keth-sil was quiet for a long moment. Then, barely audible: "They have my brother." Ah. Finally. A crack. Adom sat back, pieces clicking into place. Now he was starting to understand what had happened here, and why these people were in Arkhos in the first place. The question was: who exactly was 'they'?

"Who is 'they'?" Adom asked directly. Keth-sil hesitated, his hands fidgeting against the ropes.

"You can trust me," Adom said.

"Will you really help us?" Adom thought about that. He didn't want to make promises without knowing who he might be up against. But then again, whoever had started this mess would have eventually ended up confronting him anyway, once they realized what they'd stolen.

"If possible, yes." Keth-sil took a shaky breath.

"We come from the Vel'thara Desert. There was nothing there for us. Our parents came there before we were born, trying to hide from... well, from people who wanted to use us. But there was barely enough water, barely enough food. We survived, but we weren't really living." The green crystal stayed steady.

"A few years ago, an Imperial knight found us. He knew what we were immediately." Keth-sil's voice got quieter.

"We thought he was going to kill us, or turn us in for bounty money. Instead, he brought us to the Imperial capital." Adom stayed silent, listening. The crystal remained green.

"They trained us as spies. For the Emperor's intelligence network. We never saw the Emperor himself, but we got missions. Infiltration jobs, mostly. Information gathering. The pay was good—better than we'd ever seen. We had real food, real shelter. For the first time in our lives, we weren't just surviving." Adom was already not liking where this was heading.

"But we wanted out," Keth-sil continued.

"The work was... it changed us. Made us into people we didn't want to be. When we tried to leave, they took our youngest brother. Sil-keth. He's barely eighteen. They said as long as we kept working for them, he'd be safe and comfortable. If we tried to run..." He trailed off.

"How many siblings total?"

"Four. Me, my two other brothers, and Sil-keth."

"And recently you were assigned to the island."

"Yes. We were told to stay there until further notice. No missions, just... wait. But we couldn't just sit there knowing Sil-keth was being held somewhere. One of my brothers thought there might be something valuable in the tower. Something we could sell or use as leverage to get him back. So we broke orders."

"You went into the tower looking for anything that might help free your brother."

"We thought maybe we could sell whatever we found on the black market. Get enough money to hire professionals to help us. Or maybe find something that could be used as a weapon." Keth-sil met Adom's eyes.

"We had no idea what any of it actually was." The crystal stayed green throughout the entire explanation. Adom leaned back in his chair.

"So you're saying the Emperor is in on this. He assigned you to the island and told you to stay put."

"Yes."

"Shit," Adom sighed. This was so much worse than he'd thought.

A few moments later... The portal tore Adom apart again, scattering his consciousness across impossible distances. While his body existed as disconnected particles, part of his mind worked through the implications of what he'd learned. The research project had been designed to be transparent from the start. When he and the Archmage had decided to pursue it, they'd known the Emperor would be watching.

The thing was, the Empire and the Magisterium weren't officially separate entities—on paper, the Archmage still served at the Emperor's pleasure, and all mages were technically Imperial resources. But in practice? Things had shifted dramatically over the past few years. It had started small. The Archmage making decisions about magical education without consulting the palace. Mage assignments being handled through Magisterium channels instead of Imperial ones.

Research priorities being set by magical scholars rather than political advisors. Each change had been reasonable in isolation, justified by efficiency or expertise or simple practical necessity. But taken together, they'd created something that looked suspiciously like independence. The Emperor wasn't stupid. He'd noticed. And while he couldn't openly challenge the Archmage without risking a confrontation with every mage in the Empire, he could certainly make his displeasure known through subtler means.

Like surveillance. Like having his own people keep tabs on what the mages were really doing. That's why Adom and the Archmage had decided to be completely upfront about the research. They'd requested Imperial permission not because they legally needed it, but because it was a gesture of good faith. Look, they were saying, we're not hiding anything from you. We're working on something potentially dangerous, but we're telling you about it every step of the way. They'd documented everything. Shared progress reports.

Made themselves as transparent as possible to avoid giving the Emperor ammunition for accusations of secrecy or disloyalty. The research was conducted on Imperial territory, with Imperial resources, for the benefit of Imperial security. All above board. The irony was that their transparency had probably made them a more tempting target. The Emperor knew exactly where the research was happening, exactly who had access to it, and exactly how valuable it might be.

All he'd needed was a way to get his hands on it without looking like he was undermining his own Archmage. Enter the changelings. The hiring process for island guards went through Magisterium channels, not Imperial ones. The Archmage personally approved every assignment. But if someone could literally become a person who already belonged there, the whole security structure became meaningless. The changelings hadn't bypassed the system—they'd used the system's own assumptions against it. It was elegant, really.

The Emperor could claim complete ignorance if the theft was discovered. Just some rogue intelligence operatives acting on their own initiative. Meanwhile, he'd have access to research that could potentially shift the balance of power between the Empire and the Magisterium back in his favor. The only flaw in the plan was that one of the changelings had gotten desperate enough to break protocol. Right now, Adom needed to move fast.

If Kim arrived with Archmage troops and arrested the guards for interrogation, it would send a clear message: the Magisterium suspected Imperial involvement in the theft. The Emperor would realize his spies had been discovered, and any pretense of cooperation between the two powers would evaporate. That kind of open conflict wasn't something anyone was prepared for. The portal spat him out onto familiar stone.

The same nausea hit him immediately, and he doubled over, waiting for his stomach to remember how gravity worked. When he straightened up, everything looked normal. Guards at their posts, the tower standing undisturbed, no sign of Magisterium troops anywhere. The afternoon sun cast the same shadows it had hours earlier, and the wind carried the same salt tang from the ocean. Thank God.

He'd tried calling Kim and the Archmage during the brief window between leaving the safe house and entering the portal, but the communication crystals had just buzzed uselessly. Either they were in meetings, or the magical interference from portal travel had scrambled the signal. Apparently the Archmage's people hadn't arrived yet. Good. He still had time to handle this properly. One of the guards approached from his post near the tower entrance, his brow furrowed with concern.

"Magus? Is everything alright? You look a bit... unsettled." Adom realized he probably still looked like someone who'd just been through a portal and an interrogation in the same afternoon. He straightened his robes and tried to look normal.

"Nothing to worry about, just portal sickness. Is Professor Kim still here?"

"Yes, sir. He's been in the tower with the Archmage for the past hour or so. Haven't seen either of them come out."

"Good." Adom paused, as if something had just occurred to him.

"Tell me, is Jorik Thane working today? I thought I saw him earlier but wasn't sure." The guard shook his head.

"No sir, Jorik's on the midnight rotation. Won't be in for another few hours yet."

"Ah, my mistake." Adom scratched his chin thoughtfully.

"I've been trying to remember who's supposed to cover the evening watch. My schedule's been all mixed up lately." The guard looked mildly amused.

"The evening guards don't start until sunset. We've got maybe three more hours before the rotation changes."

"Right, of course. Thanks for clearing that up." The guard nodded and returned to his post. Adom had gotten what he needed—confirmation that the name from Keth-sil was indeed part of the midnight rotation. He headed for the tower entrance, nodding to the other guards as he passed. The unimpressive stone structure loomed above him, its windows glowing with the warm light of magical illumination. Inside, he could hear the faint murmur of voices from one of the upper chambers.

He climbed the spiral staircase, his footsteps echoing off the stone walls. There was another research chamber on the third floor, and he could hear the conversation more clearly as he approached. Kim's voice, rapid and excited, punctuated by the deeper, more measured tones of the Archmage. Adom knocked once and entered without waiting for a response. Kim and Gaius were hunched over a table covered with notes, diagrams, and what looked like architectural drawings of the tower.

Kim's hair was even more disheveled than usual, and his wire-rimmed glasses were slightly askew. Gaius sat there patiently. Listening to Kim's rants for quite some time.

"There you are," Kim said, looking up and immediately pushing his glasses back into place.

"I tried calling both of you," Adom said.

"Your comm crystals were completely dead. I was worried something had happened."

"Ah, yes." Gaius stroked his long silver beard, which now reached nearly to his belt. The Archmage had the kind of presence that filled a room without effort.

"We deactivated them intentionally. After discovering the theft, we weren't certain how deep this infiltration might go. It seemed prudent to speak without the possibility of being overheard through magical means."

"Paranoid, maybe," Kim added, running his hands through his hair, "but given that someone managed to break into our supposedly impregnable tower and steal our research materials, paranoia seems like a reasonable response."

"More than reasonable," Adom said.

"And you were right to be cautious. I have a lead. I found one of the changelings." Kim's hands froze in his hair.

"One of?!" His voice pitched higher with each word.

"How many are there? Oh god, how many times have I been talking to the wrong person? How many conversations have I had thinking I was speaking to a guard when I was actually—""Kim," Gaius said gently but firmly.

"Breathe." Kim took a shaky breath, then immediately started pacing.

"Right. Breathing. Good idea. But seriously, young Adom, when you say 'one of' how many are we talking about here?"

"Four siblings total," Adom said.

"But only one was assigned to this island." Gaius raised an eyebrow.

"Siblings?"

"It's a family operation. Sort of." Adom pulled up a chair and settled into it. The day was catching up with him, and he felt every minute of it in his bones.

"The full story is... complicated." He told them what Keth-sil had revealed—the family's escape from the desert, their capture by Imperial knights, their forced recruitment into the Emperor's intelligence network. The youngest brother held as leverage. The recent assignment to the island with orders to wait for further instructions. The desperate decision to break those orders and steal something that might help them free their brother. When he finished, Kim had stopped pacing and was staring at him with wide eyes.

"Imperial intelligence? The Emperor is running spies inside our research facility?"

"It would appear so," Gaius said quietly. His expression had grown increasingly grave as Adom spoke.

"This is... troubling."

"Troubling?" Kim laughed, but there was no humor in it.

"It's catastrophic! How long has this been going on? What else have they been reporting back? Do they know about the theoretical applications? The potential weapons development? The—""Kim." Gaius's voice cut through the spiral of panic.

"One crisis at a time." Kim nodded jerkily and sat down hard in his chair.

"Yes. One crisis. The current crisis. Which is that we have an Imperial spy disguised as one of our guards who will be arriving for duty in—" He glanced at the window, where the afternoon sun was starting to sink toward the horizon.

"—roughly three hours."

"So we wait," Gaius said.

"When the midnight rotation begins, we'll identify which guard is the changeling and take him quietly."

"How exactly do we identify him?" Kim asked.

"I mean, presumably he looks exactly like whoever he's impersonating."

"I'll figure that out when they arrive," Adom said.

"The changeling I caught gave me enough information to work with." Gaius nodded slowly.

"It's a sound plan. We wait for midnight, identify the impostor, and detain him for questioning. Simple and direct." Adom sighed heavily.

"What is it?" Gaius asked, his weathered face creasing with concern.

"I promised Eren I'd be at the beach with Sam tonight." Adom rubbed his forehead, feeling the weight of disappointment settling on his shoulders.

"We were going to spend time together like we used to, before everything got so complicated. First time in months we've all had free at the same time." Gaius chuckled.

"Eren will understand, my boy. Friends always do. And once we resolve this situation, you'll have many more evenings for beach walks."

"I know," Adom said.

"Doesn't make it easier to break the promise." Kim was already back to studying the papers on the table, his mind clearly racing ahead to the next problem.

"We should probably figure out what we're going to do after we catch this changeling. I mean, arresting an Imperial spy is going to create some... diplomatic complications." Gaius and Adom exchanged a look. Kim was right, of course. But that was a problem for after midnight.