UNDERGROUND OBSTRUCTION
A Veridia Novel
The Imperial capital, Nova Aethelburg, never slept.
At eleven at night, arcane lamps along Imperial Grand Avenue still burned bright, casting long shadows across the walls of historic buildings. Luxury cars glided silently over smooth asphalt, while on the sidewalks, a few homeless souls hunched beneath stone arches, shielding themselves from the biting night wind.
On the forty-seventh floor of the VEISD Tower, a young man sat alone in his cramped office.
Name: Lieutenant Ezra Vallen.
Age: 29.
Division: Alpha (HUMINT) – Special Analysis Unit.
Status: Dissatisfied.
Ezra pressed his face into his hands. The screen before him displayed a map of Veridia—29 states, 13 Federal Territories—with thousands of data points blinking like stars in the night sky.
He was 29. His peers were already in the field—running covert ops in Kriegsreich, infiltrating terrorist networks, gathering intel at foreign embassies. They were saving lives, catching spies, shaping history.
Ezra? He sat behind a desk, analyzing other people's reports, writing summaries for senior officers who probably never read a word.
Once, he'd applied for field duty.
"You're too valuable here, Lieutenant," his Division Director had said, a middle-aged woman with tightly pinned hair and rimless glasses. "Your analytical expertise… we need you here. Not out there."
Ezra never knew if that was praise or punishment.
The office door opened without a knock.
"Lieutenant Vallen."
Ezra straightened. "Director."
Director of Division Alpha, Teacher Murni (codename: "Sphinx"), stepped inside. She never smiled. In the seven years Ezra had known her, she had never smiled. Her face was a stone mask, her small eyes sharp as scalpels.
"I have an assignment for you."
Ezra froze. Assignment. That word was rarely used with him. Usually it was "finish this analysis," "I want the summary tomorrow," "don't sleep until it's done."
"Assignment… here?" Ezra asked carefully.
"Out there." Murni pointed to the window, toward Nova Aethelburg. "In the field."
Ezra blinked. "With respect, Director, I thought I was too valuable to be sent into the field."
For a moment—just a moment—Murni looked like she might smile. But she didn't. "Don't play games with me, Lieutenant. I don't like it."
"Apologies, Director."
Murni activated a small projector on Ezra's desk. The screen displayed a news article from a minor online portal—barely a thousand readers.
"Rumors," she said. "Published three weeks ago. Barely noticed. But the Risk Analysis Department detected a pattern."
Ezra read.
"MISSING: 50 PEOPLE IN A YEAR – IS FRONTIER TERRITORY HIDING A DARK SECRET?"
By: "Concerned Citizen" (pseudonym)
In the past twelve months, at least fifty people were reported missing in the 11th Federal Territory, Frontier Territory. Local authorities claimed they had moved to neighboring states or left without notification.
But our internal sources (who requested anonymity) tell a different story. They allege that the Territorial Administrator of Frontier Territory, Tuan Haji Razlan bin Hamid, and several Mayors in the territory are involved in… (Click to read more)
Ezra pressed "Read more."
Blank page.
"The article was pulled two days after publication," Murni said. "Reason: 'content unverifiable.' The portal issued an apology. But…"
"But someone already read it," Ezra finished.
"Exactly. And VEISD's Risk Analysts don't believe in coincidences."
Ezra studied the data. "Fifty missing… in one year… in one territory. Normal statistics, Director. Frontier Territory is new, lots of migration, people come and go without proper records."
"Usually, yes. But look at this." Murni pressed a button.
The screen showed a map of Frontier Territory. Red dots marked last known locations.
"Most disappearances occurred within a 50-kilometer radius of three major cities: New Haven (the capital), Dustfall, and Blackridge. All three cities… controlled by the same Mayor."
Ezra leaned closer.
"City of New Haven – Mayor Jamal bin Kassim. City of Dustfall – Mayor Jamal bin Kassim. City of Blackridge – Mayor Jamal bin Kassim."
"A busy man," Ezra muttered.
"Or a man with a network." Murni shut off the projector. "Your task, Lieutenant Vallen: go to Frontier Territory. Find out if these rumors have substance. And if they do…"
"Yes?"
"Find out how deep it goes."
Ezra hesitated. This wasn't a small assignment. This was the kind that could… "Director, why me? I'm not a field officer."
Murni stared at him.
"Because the one who doesn't look like a field officer is the best field officer. Your face isn't known. Your name isn't in enemy databases. You've never been to Frontier Territory. You're a blank canvas."
"Is that… a compliment or an insult?"
"A statement of fact."
She handed him a thin file.
"Your new identity: freelance journalist from Nova Aethelburg. Name: Alex Tan. You're in Frontier Territory to write about 'life in Veridia's youngest Federal Territory.' You're interested in local folklore—including rumors of missing people."
Ezra opened the file. ID card, passport, driver's license, credit cards—all under "Alex Tan."
"Budget: 50,000 IGE. Contact me through secure channels every 48 hours. If you fail to check in within 72 hours…"
"I know."
"We'll send a team to find you. But…"
"But?"
Murni stood. "Don't make me send a team, Lieutenant. I don't like unnecessary paperwork."
She left. The door clicked shut.
Ezra stared at the file in his hands. "Alex Tan." Freelance journalist. 50,000 IGE. Frontier Territory.
Outside the window, Nova Aethelburg's lights kept blinking, indifferent to what was about to unfold.
Ezra exhaled.
"So… this is what it feels like to be a field officer."