Chapter 16: Truth in the Shadows

Life, Boyka mused, was both a blessing and a lesson—a maddening paradox wrapped in uncertainty. As he paced through the dimly lit hallways of the imperial barracks, his thoughts spiraled, each one adding to the growing weight on his shoulders. He muttered quietly to himself, his voice lost amid the chaos of his racing mind.

"This feels like a ploy… a plot devised by the heavens," he said, his tone laced with a bitter edge. "Perhaps it's meant to serve as a means to an end—a nudge toward the plans I have in mind."

Boyka stopped mid-stride, his sharp eyes scanning the barren corridor ahead. His instincts rarely failed him, and right now, they told him that the puzzle pieces scattered before him were beginning to align. The events surrounding the princess's disappearance and the emperor's growing unease weren't random. Someone, somewhere, had orchestrated this chaos with precision.

"Who has what it takes to challenge the emperor?" he wondered aloud, his words carrying the weight of suspicion. "Only one name comes to mind…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "But it's too soon to jump to conclusions."

He furrowed his brow, trying to make sense of it all. "And if it is him, how in the void did he pull off her capture amidst all this security?" Boyka clenched his fists, frustration simmering just beneath the surface. "This all looks so simple on paper, but I know better. Abbadon has loyalists even here on Avalon."

The name echoed in his mind—Abbadon, the man who had clawed his way into the emperor's inner circle. Boyka had no proof yet, only a gnawing certainty that the traitorous commander was at the heart of this conspiracy. But certainty without evidence was meaningless.

Boyka exhaled sharply, his boots clacking against the cold stone floor as he strode toward his quarters. He needed clarity, and the answers he sought were buried somewhere in the documents he had taken from the emperor's chamber.

---

Inside his quarters, Boyka sat down at the small, cluttered desk. The dim glow of a solitary lamp illuminated the scattered papers before him. He began sifting through them, his sharp eyes scanning every line, every detail. Each document painted a grim picture of a galaxy at war, of alliances forged and broken, of resources stretched thin.

And then he saw it—a name buried amidst the reports.

"Abbadon," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "I thought as much…"

Boyka's pulse quickened as he pieced together the web of lies. It all made sense now. Abbadon wasn't just a conniving opportunist; he was a mastermind, a puppeteer pulling strings from the shadows.

"But something's still not right," Boyka muttered. He leaned back in his chair, his mind racing. "He has the emperor's ear. He can influence him, manipulate him… So why orchestrate this chaos? What does he gain?"

Boyka rubbed his temples, the weight of the revelation pressing down on him. "What if…" he began, his voice trailing off. "What if he instigated the war on Earth? What if he's been the true demon all along?"

The thought chilled him. If Abbadon had indeed manipulated the emperor into war, then the man's ambitions ran far deeper than Boyka had imagined. But there was one problem—Morris himself.

"The emperor wanted the invasion," Boyka reasoned. "Perhaps on a different scale, but the desire was there. So where does Abbadon's influence end, and the emperor's own greed begin?"

Boyka pushed the papers aside and stood abruptly. The cramped quarters suddenly felt suffocating, and he needed space to think.

---

As he stepped into the hallway, Boyka muttered under his breath, "I forgot my gun." He cursed softly, turning back toward his room. This wasn't the first time he'd misplaced something important, but the urgency of the situation made the oversight sting all the more.

He quickened his pace, only to freeze as he neared his quarters. A shadowy figure loomed at the entrance, the dim light casting long, distorted shapes on the wall. Boyka's hand instinctively went to his belt, his fingers brushing the hilt of his knife.

"Commander Geb?" Boyka called out, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. The figure turned, revealing the face of the commander of Avalon's stationed forces.

"What are you doing here?" Boyka asked, his tone sharp.

Commander Geb hesitated, his eyes darting around the hallway as if searching for an escape route. His unease was palpable, and Boyka's instincts screamed at him to prepare for a fight.

"Well?" Boyka pressed, stepping closer. "You're still not answering me. What are you doing here?"

Before Boyka could utter another word, Geb moved.

Bang!

The sound of the gunshot echoed through the hallway. Boyka stumbled back, but his armor absorbed the impact. His heart raced as he realized Geb had just tried to kill him.

Bang! Bang!

Two more shots rang out, but Boyka was faster. He drew his knife, but there was no time for close combat. Instead, he reached for his own gun and fired.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The bullets found their mark, striking Geb square in the chest. The commander staggered backward, blood staining his uniform before he collapsed to the floor, lifeless.

Boyka stood over the body, his mind racing. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered, his voice filled with disbelief. "Is Geb loyal to Abbadon too? How deep does this treachery run?"

The realization hit him like a blow. If Geb had been willing to kill him, then the conspiracy was far more entrenched than he'd imagined. He couldn't let his guard down, not for a second.

"I need to check on the emperor," Boyka said aloud, his voice resolute. "I can't let him die. Not yet. His death now would derail everything."

Boyka turned and sprinted down the hallway, his boots pounding against the stone. He didn't know who else he could trust, but one thing was clear—time was running out, and the stakes had never been higher.

---

As Boyka made his way toward the emperor's chamber, his thoughts churned. The palace was no longer safe. Traitors lurked in the shadows, and the line between ally and enemy had blurred beyond recognition.

But Boyka wasn't about to let his mission fail. He had come too far, sacrificed too much, to let it all crumble now.

And as he approached the grand doors of the emperor's chamber, one thought burned in his mind: Abbadon's days are numbered.