The initial whisper emerged as a ripple, not a blast. It appeared not as a breaking news. As a subtle steady pulse within the concealed strata of the universe they had constructed. A secure, marked notification on Arthur Coopers terminal at Dover sent from an undercover contact, inside the Civil Service. The subject header was unassuming: Watchdog. Preliminary Inquiry. Anomalous Activity.
Enclosed was an information request referencing the "possible national security concerns related to unregistered high-bio-research " and mentioning the ambiguous shell companies Edgar had created.
The rock, thrown into the pool of their confidentiality had created its initial wave.
At Warwick Castle, Felicya Aurora was alerted not via communication lines but through an unusual network. Sylvan-7 among her earlier-generation test subjects who were sensitive psychically but less stable had been highly distressed since daybreak whispering about "noisy lifeless voices in the cables" and "a frosty gaze awakening." Her engineers had ignored it as interference until Felicya matched the psychic disturbance spikes with the timing of the leaked data packet arrival, in Westminster. The "cold eye" represented the states stare, shifting—though without clear purpose—toward them. Her porcelain complexion grew even paler. Flawlessness could not endure examination.
In Edinburgh Alexa Solara's intelligence system, created to identify dangers caught the warning nearly at the same moment. She examined the draft request while positioned in the Crucible's observation gallery the day's stress-test information slipping from her mind. Her gloved hand tightened into a fist. This was no strike from a competing chair. This was a contamination. A violation of the rule: stay hidden. Her thoughts sped up mapping out the trajectories. The deceased analyst, in Leith was a controlled injury. This was a bleed into the septic world of politics and public record.
A sudden secure-conference was launched, skipping the Quadrumvirate procedures. The four of them showed up in sections, on Arthur's monitor their common urgency dissolving the facades.
"This belongs to you, Walker " Alexa charged at once her figure clear her pink lapels a burst of hue. "This smells like your folly. Calling the crowd to glimpse the backstage?"
Edgar, reclining in what seemed to be his library, at Windsor appeared distressed. "My Alexa if my intention were to gather spectators I would charge admission. This is a hazardous ploy. It compels us all to reallocate resources to manage a menace that serves no purpose. It is the move of either a desperate or an irresponsible individual." His eyes then shifted pointedly toward Arthur.
Arthur, still bearing the lessons, from the First Ledger sensed the burden of the charge. He represented the factor, the hopeful one. "Blaming others is what the originator of this breach desires " he murmured. "The issue isn't 'who,' but 'what comes next?' Although misguided this investigation is formal. It carries force. It can't be dismissed,. Permitted to uncover a shred of reality."
Felicya her brass-framed spectacles catching the glow of her study spoke with tense exactness. "This constitutes an assault on the project itself. The 'noise' it produces acts as a contaminant. My subjects react adversely to discord. This… bureaucratic racket is triggering discomfort. It needs to be muted." Her voice made clear her favored approach, to muting it.
"We cannot shut down a committee " Arthur responded. "We can merely steer it away. Misdirect it. Conceal its inquiries beneath a pile of ordinary justifications."
"A misinformation effort " Alexa pondered, the tactician within her overriding her anger. "We have operatives positioned. We supply the story they are predisposed to accept: private military contractors conducting wargames. Pharmaceutical firms conducting yet lawful gene-therapy experiments. We submerge their legitimate concern, beneath a flood of broad inaccurate rationales."
Edgar clasped his fingers together. "A harmony of deceit each of us playing our role. I can guarantee the money trail points to a defence subcontractor who recently went bankrupt and is known for proposals. A phantom to shoulder the fault."
"I'm able to produce environmental impact analyses from ten years back " Felicya mentioned, her thoughts moving swiftly. "Drawn from an university initiative, on fast-growing forestry. We plant the records making it appear as though they found it through their thorough investigation."
Arthur experienced an aversion, the Viscount of Harrow's spirit approving silently from the pages of the ledger. This was the task: not invention, but disguise. "A.G.L. Can utilize its funds " he said, the words bitter on his tongue. "We will 'acknowledge' backing lawful cognitive-enhancement research for degenerative illnesses. A worthy facade, marred by excess. It will meet their desire, for an antagonist. Control the discourse on our conditions."
For an instant they ceased to be adversaries and became allies confronting a shared existential danger. The collaborative probe, into the Leith homicide was immediately deemed insignificant.
"We need to act " Alexa stated. ". We must be flawless. Any inconsistency, in our accounts won't convince them of the truth; it will only cause them to probe intensely."
"Then we synchronize " Arthur stated, assuming leadership of the requirement. "A secure encrypted line. Solely, for this mission. We orchestrate each falsehood, every fabricated file, every manipulated witness."
Edgar grinned, an expression of real delight. "A fleeting coalition of deceivers. How truly human we are. Apparently the route, to evolving into the powerful species demands that we initially excel at being average clumsy humans."
The call concluded. The rush started.
In Dover Arthur shifted away from his screen. Looked at Silas. "Activate the Harrow Foundation's PR team. We're on the verge of becoming divisively charitable. Also get a file, on 'Project Icarus'—the project we put on hold. It's time to initiate a purge."
At Warwick Felicya ordered her archivists to start creating ten years of fabricated forestry studies her stomach twisting in disgust, at the tainting of her data maintenance.
In Edinburgh Alexa sent out a crew of phantoms to infiltrate government servers with murmurs of misconduct by defence contractors.
Meanwhile in Windsor Edgar Walker observed his screens, which were now divided between the office and the streams, from the Black Sanctum. The external strain was increasing perfectly as intended. His adversaries were currently wasting effort constructing a Potemkin facade of falsehoods to divert the attention of the outside world. Their concentration was divided their means dispersed.
The afflicted creature, within its enclosure appeared to throb in sync with the mounting fear. It thrived on chaos on vigor. The " eye" Felicya's elf perceived wasn't solely the authorities. It represented the fumbling search of a realm they had long excluded.. Edgar had only just pushed the shutters open even if slightly.
The war for supremacy was no longer confined to four castles. The battlefield had just expanded to include committee rooms, public records, and the court of mundane opinion. They had spent centuries looking in, perfecting their creations. Now, for the first time, they were forced to look out. And the world outside, though ignorant, was vast, hungry, and unpredictably loud.