THE PHANTOM'S CONFESSION
2556 Words
The storage room smelled like smoke and blood.
Sera sat in the corner, wrists bound, shoulder bandaged. Her dark eyes tracked every movement in the room—the guards at the door, the camera in the ceiling, the knife on Jayden's belt. She was calculating. Always calculating.
Jayden pulled up a chair and sat across from her.
“You lost,” he said.
“Temporarily.”
“Permanently. Viktor told us everything. The Consortium. The Crown. Sterling’s escape. You’re not getting out of this room until the Purge is over.”
Sera smiled. “You think the Purge will end? It never ends. It just pauses. Waits. Then starts again.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I’ve seen it. Before I had the Phantom system. Before I was anyone.” Her voice dropped. “I was there for the last Purge. Twenty-three years ago. In a different city. Different hosts. Different Crown.”
Jayden leaned forward. “You were a host during the last Purge?”
“I was a child. Seven years old. My father was a host. He claimed the Crown. It killed him.” Her eyes went distant. “The Crown doesn’t make gods. It makes sacrifices. The power burns through the host in months, sometimes weeks. And when it’s done, the Crown goes back to sleep. Waiting for the next fool.”
“Then why does the Consortium want it?”
“Because they don’t know. Or they don’t care.” She looked at him. “Power is power. Even if it kills you.”
---
Jayden stood up, walked to the door, and signaled Andrew to come in.
Andrew closed the door behind him. “What did she say?”
“She was there for the last Purge. Her father claimed the Crown. It killed him.”
Andrew frowned. “So the Crown is a death sentence.”
“Maybe. Or maybe her father wasn’t strong enough.” Jayden looked back at Sera. “She’s lying about something. I can feel it.”
“What?”
“I don’t know yet.”
They walked out of the storage room, leaving Sera with Lucas.
Leah was at the weapons table, laptop open, face lit by the glow of multiple screens. She looked up when they approached.
“I found something,” she said. “Sterling’s destination. Krovograd. It’s not just a black market. It’s a city ruled by system hosts. A place where the normal laws don’t apply.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I traced the flight records. The jet didn’t land at a public airport. It landed at a private airstrip owned by a man named Gregor Volkov. He’s a host. The Iron Fist system. He runs Krovograd.”
Jayden’s jaw tightened. “So Sterling is meeting with another host.”
“Worse. He’s meeting with the entire Krovograd council. Five hosts. Each with a different system. They’re the ones sending the Consortium members.”
Andrew swore. “We can’t fight five hosts.”
“We don’t have to. We just have to stop them from sending more.” Leah pulled up a map. “Krovograd is isolated. Surrounded by mountains. Only one road in, one road out. If we can cut off their supply lines, they can’t send reinforcements.”
“How do we cut off supply lines from here?”
“We don’t. We send someone there.”
Jayden looked at her. “You want me to go to Europe.”
“I want you to end this. Sterling is buying an army. If he comes back with five hosts, we’re dead. All of us. The only way to stop him is to go to Krovograd and take out the council.”
“That’s suicide.”
“Everything we’ve done so far has been suicide. You’re still alive.”
---
The debate lasted two hours.
Andrew argued against it. Leah argued for it. Viktor, from his corner of the basement, offered his opinion unasked.
“She’s right,” Viktor said. “The council won’t stop sending hosts until someone makes them stop. Sterling is just a messenger. The real power is in Krovograd.”
Jayden stood by the window, watching the sun set over the Warrens. “How do I get in?”
Leah answered. “There’s a contact. A woman named Anya. The broker I mentioned. She trades in information. If anyone can get you inside, she can.”
“Anya works for the council.”
“She works for whoever pays. And we have something she wants.”
“What’s that?”
“You.” Leah turned the laptop so Jayden could see. “Anya collects information on system hosts. The rarer the system, the more she pays. The Crimson Trial hasn’t been seen in thirty years. She’ll want to meet you.”
“And when she does?”
“You offer her a trade. Information about the Crown in exchange for access to the council.”
Andrew shook his head. “This is insane. You’re walking into a city full of hosts who want to kill you, trusting a woman who sells information to the highest bidder.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
Andrew was silent.
Jayden turned to Leah. “Set up the meeting. Tell Anya I’ll be there in three days.”
---
That night, Jayden sat in the basement, watching Viktor and Sera through the one-way mirror.
Viktor was asleep. Sera was awake, staring at the ceiling.
Jayden walked into the storage room.
“You’re leaving,” Sera said.
“How do you know?”
“Because I can see it in your face. You’re going to Krovograd.”
“Maybe.”
“You’ll die there. The council doesn’t negotiate. They take what they want and kill the rest.”
“Then why did Viktor work for them?”
“Because Viktor is a killer. He fits in.” She turned her head to look at him. “You’re not a killer. Not really. You’re a man who kills because he has to. There’s a difference.”
“Not to the people I kill.”
“No. But there is to you.” She closed her eyes. “When you get to Krovograd, find Anya. Tell her Sera sent you. She’ll help you.”
“Why would you help me?”
“Because I want the council dead. They took everything from me. My father. My freedom. My life.” Her voice cracked. “I’ve been their tool for twenty years. I want it to end.”
Jayden studied her face. “If you’re lying—”
“I’m not. For the first time in years, I’m not.”
---
The next morning, Jayden stood on the roof of the Iron Pit.
Leah had booked him a flight to Europe. A private plane, paid for with Vancore’s hidden funds. He’d leave tonight.
Andrew climbed up beside him. “I should go with you.”
“No. You need to stay here. Protect the gym. Watch Viktor and Sera.”
“And if they try to escape?”
“Kill them.”
Andrew nodded slowly. “You’re really going through with this.”
“I have to. Sterling is out there, building an army. If I don’t stop him, he’ll come back with enough power to burn this whole city down.”
“And the Crown?”
“The Crown will wait. It’s been waiting for centuries. A few more weeks won’t matter.”
Andrew looked at him. “Be careful.”
“I always am.”
“No, you’re not. You’re reckless. You take stupid risks. You trust people you shouldn’t.” Andrew grabbed his shoulder. “But you’re also the only one who can do this. So go. Do what you do. And come back alive.”
Jayden nodded.
They stood in silence, watching the sun climb over the Warrens.
---
The plane left at 11 PM.
Jayden sat in the back, alone, watching the lights of Veridian City disappear beneath the clouds. The Crimson Trial pulsed, quiet for once, as if it was waiting.
He pulled out his phone. No service. He’d left Leah with instructions to update him via encrypted messages when he landed.
He closed his eyes and tried to sleep.
But every time he closed his eyes, he saw the Crown. Pulsing. Waiting. Calling.
---
The flight took eight hours.
Jayden landed at a small airport in a country he couldn’t pronounce. The air was cold and smelled of pine. Mountains rose in the distance, dark against the gray sky.
A car was waiting for him. Black sedan. Tinted windows. The driver was a large man with a shaved head and no expression.
“Anya sent me,” the driver said.
Jayden got in.
They drove for two hours, winding through mountain roads, past villages that looked abandoned, past forests that seemed to swallow the light.
Finally, they reached a gate. Steel. Tall. Guarded by men with rifles.
The driver rolled down his window. “He’s expected.”
The gate opened.
---
Krovograd was not a city. It was a fortress.
Buildings carved into the mountainside, connected by bridges and tunnels. Lights flickered in the windows. The sound of machinery echoed off the stone.
The driver parked in front of a large building—glass and steel, out of place among the rock.
“Anya is inside. Go alone.”
Jayden got out, walked to the door, and pushed it open.
The interior was warm. Soft lights. Expensive furniture. A woman sat behind a desk, her face illuminated by a laptop screen.
She looked up when Jayden entered.
Anya was in her forties, with silver-streaked hair and sharp green eyes. She wore a black dress and no jewelry. Her smile was professional but cold.
“Jayden Cross. The grave-crawler. I’ve heard so much about you.”
“All lies, probably.”
“Probably.” She gestured to a chair. “Sit. We have much to discuss.”
Jayden sat.
“You want access to the council,” Anya said. “You want them to stop sending hosts to your city. In exchange, you’re offering information about the Crown.”
“That’s right.”
“The council doesn’t negotiate with strangers. They kill them and take what they want.”
“Then why am I here?”
“Because I convinced them to listen.” She leaned forward. “The Crown is waking. Everyone can feel it. The council wants to claim it. But they don’t know where it is. You do.”
“I know where it was. It might have moved.”
“Then you’ll find it again.” Anya’s eyes gleamed. “Here’s my offer. You help the council locate the Crown. In return, they call off the attacks on your city. Sterling is handed over to you. And you walk away alive.”
“And if I refuse?”
“Then you don’t walk away at all.”
Jayden looked around the room. No visible guards. But he could feel them—presences behind the walls, above the ceiling. Hosts. Waiting.
“I need proof,” he said. “That the council will keep their word.”
Anya smiled. “You’re in no position to demand proof.”
“Then I walk.”
He stood up.
Anya’s smile faded. “Sit down.”
“No.”
He walked to the door.
The door didn’t open.
Jayden turned. Anya was standing now, her hands flat on the desk. The air in the room grew heavy. The lights flickered.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “This isn’t a negotiation. It’s an extraction. You will tell us where the Crown is, or you will die in this room.”
Jayden raised his hand. The Crimson Trial pulsed.
**[HOSTILE SYSTEMS DETECTED: 3]**
**[THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME]**
**[RECOMMENDED: SURRENDER]**
He ignored it.
“I’ve died before,” Jayden said. “It didn’t take.”
He punched the door.
The steel bent. Not much—just enough. He punched it again. The lock cracked.
Behind him, Anya shouted. The hidden guards emerged—three men, each radiating the cold pressure of a system host.
Jayden turned to face them.
The first lunged. Jayden sidestepped, drove his elbow into the man’s spine, and sent him crashing into the wall. The second swung a knife. Jayden caught his wrist, twisted, and broke it. The third—the largest—charged with a roar.
Jayden met him head-on.
They collided, crashing through the desk, through the laptop, through the glass wall behind it. The man was stronger, but Jayden was faster. He got his knees up, pushed, and threw the man over his head.
The man landed on the shards of glass, screaming.
Jayden stood up, breathing hard.
Anya was gone.
The door was open.
He walked out.
---
The hallway was long and dark.
Jayden moved fast, pistol drawn, Crimson Trial feeding him tactical data. Guards behind him. More ahead. He needed to get out of the building.
He found a stairwell, climbed to the ground floor, and burst through an emergency exit.
Outside, the mountain air was cold.
He ran.
The car was gone. The driver was gone. He was alone in a city of hosts.
His phone buzzed.
Unknown number: *“Impressive. But foolish. The council will not forgive this. Run, Jayden. Run fast.”*
Jayden looked up at the fortress. Lights were coming on. Alarms were sounding.
He ran.
---
The forest was dark and thick.
Jayden moved through the trees, ignoring the branches that scratched his face, the roots that tried to trip him. The Crimson Trial guided him—downhill, toward the road, toward the gate.
Gunfire erupted behind him. Bullets tore through the leaves.
He dove behind a rock, returned fire. Two shots. A scream. Then silence.
He kept running.
The gate appeared through the trees. Steel. Tall. Guarded.
Jayden didn’t slow down.
He ran straight at the gate, firing his pistol at the guards. One fell. Two fell. The third ran.
Jayden reached the gate, climbed it, and dropped to the other side.
The road stretched before him, empty and dark.
He started walking.
---
Dawn found him at a small village, miles from Krovograd.
Jayden sat on a bench outside a closed shop, bleeding from a dozen small cuts. His pistol was empty. His phone was dead.
The Crimson Trial pulsed.
**[ESCAPE COMPLETE]**
**[ESSENCE GAINED: 200 UNITS]**
**[TOTAL ESSENCE: 1340 UNITS]**
**[NEXT EVOLUTION: 660 UNITS REMAINING]**
**[WARNING: COUNCIL HAS ISSUED A BOUNTY. ALL HOSTS IN THE REGION ARE NOW HUNTING YOU.]**
He needed to get out of the country. Fast.
A truck approached—old, rusted, carrying vegetables to market. Jayden stepped into the road, raised his hand.
The truck stopped.
The driver looked at him, saw the blood, the exhaustion. “You need help?”
“I need a ride to the airport.”
“That’s two hours away.”
“Then you better drive fast.”
The driver nodded. Jayden climbed into the passenger seat.
As the truck pulled away, he looked back at the mountains. Somewhere in those peaks, the council was plotting. Sterling was scheming. The Crown was calling.
He’d be back.
But first, he needed to survive.
- Writer
