Once It Gets Dar

Hi you guys, first of all, thank you so, so much for waiting so patiently for this chapter! I know I have really put your nerves to a test! Thank you a million times for all your comments and encouraging words! You really keep this going!

Veril and German vocabulary can be found in my profile <3

There is

NO SEX

in this chapter, so if you are looking for that, I recommend one of the following: Ch. 1; Ch. 3; Ch. 6; Ch. 8; Ch. 9; Ch. 11; Ch. 13; Ch. 14; Ch. 15 (The smut will return eventually, I promise, hehe)

This is a dark chapter; please be warned.

TW: for rebels in underground structures

CHAPTER 18--CLICK, CLICK, CLICK

He didn't do it.

A sudden rush of relief streamed through my chest.

Vo'ren hadn't killed that family.

But then my heart hardened again. So what? Hadn't he still massacred two entire cities? Still betrayed me? Still risked my life and that of our unborn child? Still...

The mix of voices and cigarette smoke wafting over from the corner where the Peruvian was talking with his comrades snapped me out of my thoughts and brought me back to reality. I was locked inside an underground bunker with a ruthless killer who planned to use me for his next move--for once General Tsul was not the man I needed to worry about.

My eyes were inadvertently drawn to the bloodstained replica of Peace Bringer displayed like a trophy on the Peruvian's wall, still encrusted with his victims' blood.

I felt bile rising up my throat, quickly looked away, and pricked up my ears instead, hoping to catch some useful piece of information, but their conversation had moved on to coordinates and other topics I couldn't follow. General Tsul was not the man I needed to worry about; to the contrary, I had to get back to him, or at least out and away from the FMD and their secret headquarters as quickly as possible.

Most importantly, don't let the rebels find out you changed your mind.

I took the printout map of Volkspark Friedrichshain, reached with shaking hands for a pencil that lay on the giant desk, and started drawing lines--the main street, coming from the bronze gate, the training field, the position of the General's tent. It was paramount to play along until I was allowed to leave this room, and then I would have to

run

. Fortunately, Lilly's tour last night had given me a pretty good gauge of where to find the exits.

Maybe if I could inform the Veril on time, if I could tell them where to find the FMD before they were able to air that message, the Kirtim Shenk would be able to raid the headquarters and thwart the Peruvian's plans before he killed more innocents in his ill-advised uprising. Maybe if I turned myself back in, I could prevent more deaths--human and Veril alike.

Cold sweat broke out all over my whole body; it was a terrible choice to betray the revolution, my country's last hope for freedom, but after all I had learned today, I saw no other way. The pencil made a satisfying scratching sound on the printer ink as I drew in the second road, ensuring that, just like the other strategic points I had marked, it was slightly off. The training field lay on the wrong side of the hill, the camp was located too far east, and the angle in which the two roads crossed was way too steep.

I paused, to simply wait and hope an opportunity to run would magically present itself, had worked out terribly when I was still in the General's possession, and there was no reason it would go down better this time. I needed a plan B.

"Do you have any questions about the speech?"

I almost dropped my pen when the Peruvian leaned over, one hand on the desk, incredibly close to mine. He smelled of cigarettes and a slight hint of aftershave, and strangely, I didn't feel the urge to pull away. He scrutinized the printout, and my stomach clenched into a tight ball--I had tried to make it look believable, as if I were just really bad at reading maps, but now, with the rebel leader looming over my shoulder, I was shaking at the thought of what would happen should he see through my bluff.

After a moment he nodded and gave me an expectant look.

"Uh, what?" I asked distractedly.

He straightened up, putting a bit of merciful space back between us. "Do you have any questions?"

Right. I chided myself--now more than ever, I needed to stay concentrated and alert.

"Yes, actually. I've been wondering: what does the

relámpago

do exactly? I mean, I saw how powerful it is when you freed me, of course, but the wards around the park stay strong even during the day. What makes you think you'll be able to break through them?" Then I added quickly, "Please don't take this the wrong way; I just want to make sure I really understand our plan before I call the people to fight."

A fond smile twinkled in the corners of his eyes as he looked down at me--

good

; apparently my skepticism had seemed convincing enough without raising suspicions.

"The

relámpago

is ten times stronger than the sun atop the Chimborazo mountain at noon." There was a kind of cruel assertiveness in his voice when he added, "The trespassers' wards don't stand a chance."

"Wow." I lowered my head and looked up at him through my lashes. "I think I have never thanked you for what you did. I mean, not only for saving me, but for everything that you've accomplished. We had all given up hope, thought that we were helpless against their dark magic, but now there's the FMD--there's you--showing everybody what human science and intelligence are really made of."

He scoffed, but his smug expression was visible even through the ski mask--show me a man who is immune to flattery.

I gave him my most winning smile. "So just to make sure I got that right--you created a weapon made of exploding light?"

He took out his packet of cigarettes and leaned against the wall behind him. The other men were talking in low voices at the opposite end of the room, and the ventilation system whirred lowly.

"It's more like a complex two-step process. The solar bomb goes off first. It imitates the spectrum of the sun by combining highly concentrated wavelengths of infrared, UV, and visible light. The blast is so strong that it burns the monsters' skin and completely blocks all their magic abilities, and then, after three seconds, when the light has had its full effect and the enemy is at its weakest, comes the explosion: a good old classic bomb--anti-armor, or demolition, or whatever fits the purpose."

"Like thunder after lightning," I said, trying to hide my disgust under an expression of awe.

"Exactly," the Peruvian huffed, blowing out a puff of smoke. "So, you don't have to worry, Neumann--we'll get through Sleeping Beauty's hedge just fine."

I blinked and nodded; the cigarettes were making my eyes burn. Now it came in really handy that my time with the Veril had forced me to learn how to keep my heartbeat steady and my face pleasant while my insides were boiling. His explanation was the last confirmation I needed: they really wanted me to lie for them and lead thousands to their death.

"So," I said lightly. "Then I guess I'll go to my room and practice the speech. Do you already know at what time you would want to start filming?"

He straightened up and gestured towards his comrades. "We start right now. That'll give us time to edit before we broadcast by the end of tonight. We'll only have one hour between airing the message and the beginning of combat; that way the demons will be unprepared." My stomach dropped, and he shrugged apologetically. "I know. I'm sure you're still feeling down from the blow you took when we rescued you, but I promise you, this is the last thing I'll bother you with today. Record the message, and then you'll have plenty of time for your well-deserved recovery."

"Ok, perfect." I swallowed and stood up, straightening my clothes in an attempt to seem enthusiastic.

I looked around half expecting one of the Peruvian's men to take out their phone and start filming, but they had already opened the door.

"Not here. We'll have to give up these headquarters eventually, but I don't want them to find us out before we launch the attack." He made a military-style beckoning gesture with two fingers, and I followed him.

So plan B it was,

I thought crumpling the paper with the text between my fingers as we turned into a steadily ascending side corridor. Or more accurately: a

revised version

of plan B since the speech would not be transmitted live, which complicated things immensely.

A group of people was waiting for us at the end of the tunnel, most of them wearing uniforms and ski masks. Their rugged appearance made me once more realize how much I stuck out in my almost ethereal Veril attire, like a ghost amongst humans. I bunched my fists into the fabric, trying to pull my dress tighter around my body to keep it from flowing. The other rebels fell into loose formation around us as soon as we had caught up with them.

I kept my head up, trying to maintain an air of calm confidence while my brain was rattling. My eyes met a pair of pretty dark brown ones, and only when she blinked at me did I recognize Lilly behind the black fabric of her mask. I relaxed a little.

The white-paneled corridor turned into a dirty gray cement shaft that kept rising higher and higher and reminded me a lot of the tunnel Vo'ren and I had crossed with the unfortunate barkeeper. For a second, I swayed, dizzy as I remembered what had become of him--what

Vo'ren

had done with him.

Don't think about it right now,

I reminded myself.

You'll have enough time to doubt your life's choices when you're out of here.

"Hurry up, Neumann," the Peruvian's words, strangely muffled by the walls around us, cut through my train of thoughts. "We'll go first."

I had fallen behind. My steps turned into an undignified kind of hobble hindered by the dress's skirt as I hurried to catch up with the rebel leader. He was waiting below a flight of stairs and gestured for me to go ahead. When I passed him, he slightly touched my shoulder as if he wanted to steady me on my way up. Even though I was getting more and more queasy with each step, I tried to keep a brisk pace just to shake off his hand. What in the world made him think it was okay to lay his child-murdering paws on me? The General's strange obsession with keeping other men's scent off me had somehow really sensitized me as to how touchy many people were.

"To the right." The Peruvian's voice was barely more than a whisper, but he still managed to sound commanding.

It was dark, and a distinct damp smell of mold hung in the air. The FMD members behind me were blocking out all light that filtered in from the stairwell. I was walking in dense twilight; nonetheless, I saw everything--so my enhanced night vision still worked! Almost reflexively, I searched my blood for a stir of shadows, but just yesterday, I found nothing.

The basement looked like it hadn't seen any renovations since before the Wall between East and West had fallen; everything was old, dusty, and worn down, except for some large and shiny electrical appliances and the chrome-colored door of an elevator atop three more stairs to my left.

"Last floor," the Peruvian said as I scuffled up the stone steps into the cabin and pressed the button with the number ten.

I hated being all alone in a confined space with him; he made me uncomfortable, and, even though I hadn't been scared when we first met, I was definitely getting afraid now. Afraid for myself, sure, but above all afraid for my baby, afraid of what he might do to me when he remembered whose child I was carrying.

As soon as the doors slid open with a scraping noise, I rushed to step outside. To my surprise I hadn't landed in another corridor but stood in a very large room--a sort of less luxurious semi-penthouse that had been an office not too long ago. The floor was covered in a generic blue carpet, and there were light outlines on the dirty ingrain wallpaper, where filing cabinets had touched the wall. A couple of tables and chairs made out of light wood and metal were bunched together in a corner, looking suspiciously similar to the ones in the rebels' mess hall. Somehow, I could still smell a faint hint of cold filter coffee hanging in the air.

Despite its dull interior, it was a stunning space. The only solid wall was the one with the elevator and another door next to it--the exit to the staircase, maybe? The other three sides of the room were entirely made out of gigantic window fronts, running up from the floor to the ceiling. I inhaled in awe when I took in the breathtaking view and stepped closer, glad to have a pretext for walking away from the Peruvian.

Not too far in the distance, the distinctive sphere of the TV tower at Alexanderplatz rose above the streets and houses, its long antenna outlined by the orange light of the sinking sun. Apparently, weeks on a nocturnal schedule, blacking out, and waking up in an under-earth tunnel system with artificial sunlight had really messed with my inner clock: I had thought it to be morning, noon at most, but the sound of the evening traffic was wafting up to us from the streets below. People were returning home after a long day of work, oblivious to what the upcoming night would bring their city.

I rubbed my temples as I walked along the perimeter of the windows to the opposite side of the room. Earlier today, when I woke up, Lilly had still been in her sleepwear. Were the rebels in their headquarters imitating the Veril's schedule? But then the hairs on my neck stood up as I looked down at the dark and unusually high trees of Volkspark Friedrichshain across the street underneath us, and I realized that the members of the FMD most likely had wanted to get enough rest to prepare for their battle tonight; my stomach churned with a bout of nausea.

I lay both of my palms against the cool glass. So Lilly had told me the truth about the location of the headquarters. There it was, the park that had been my home--and my prison. I tried to spot the camp or any of the other landmarks I had come to know so intimately, but a blur lay like mist over the place, and it was impossible to make out anything but the terrible trees that had scared me so much when Vo'ren and I walked underneath them. Right on the opposite side of the road below us rose the magical hedge of thorns and glowing vines, and I even glimpsed the shadows of guards in front of the gate. The Kirtim Shenk--so close, yet unreachable for me. If only I could shout to them, warn them, but a large group of rebels had just emerged from the elevator, and not even Veril ears were good enough to hear me whisper from up here.

"Crazy, huh?"

A soft yet strong hand touched my shoulder, and I whirled around. Lilly stood behind me, her face still hidden under fabric.

"Yeah. To think that a few nights ago I was sleeping in a tent down there." I grimaced, my eyes still directed at the big street, and she shuddered.

We were, I realized, in one of the large apartment blocks across the bronze gate, and suddenly a pang of longing hit me. Despite everything, after all I had learned and already knew, I still missed him. It was idiotic; I knew that, but somehow I just wished I could be back at our tent, joking with him, touching him, leaning into his strong arms, knowing that nothing would ever happen to me as long as he was by my side. I yearned for one of those few precious moments when we had stopped being Veril and human, conqueror and conquered, and were just Vo'ren and Anna, two people who...

Embarrassed of my own thoughts, I turned away from Lilly and wiped my teary eyes. The room had filled up with FMD members by now, the more important ones wearing ski masks, others in uniform or regular civilian clothing, bustling around and setting up a very improvised film studio with one of the discarded tables doubling as a camera stand. I pulled myself together, and I raised my brows when I saw the old-school instrument that probably stemmed from several decades ago.

"Less easy to track, we don't want to risk accidentally sending out our location along with the recording," Lilly remarked, following my gaze. "If they find us before we launch the attack, we're screwed. We'll probably have to abandon the headquarters after the ambush starts, but until then we still have a major part of the arsenal stored down there. Oh, by the way!"

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a white and yellow tube with sunscreen. I gave her a puzzled look.

"Just in case," she explained. "You don't want to get sunburn from the

relámpago

."

I tried to look unconcerned as I applied the lotion to my arms, face, and cleavage, but a looming sense of foreboding had taken hold of me.

"Well, I better start practicing." I said, swallowing as I handed the bottle back to her, and waved with the crumpled paper containing the speech.

Lilly nodded and gave me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. "I'll leave you to it, then."

She turned to speak with a group of her comrades while I sat down on one of the chairs and started going through the passages over and over again, fidgeting with my dress and fighting down the bouts of anxiety that gripped me at regular intervals.

"So, Neumann, we're ready whenever you are." After about twenty minutes of study, the Peruvian interrupted my concentration. He was towering over my chair, his mask partly pulled up and a cigarette in his mouth.

Unlike yesterday, he was cleanly shaven, and my mind started to run free, trying to come up with imaginary versions of how his face might look like underneath the disguise.

"

Allzeit bereit,

" I joked and stood up, pressing one hand against my clenching stomach. The Peruvian's eyes followed, lingering on my belly for a second, before he looked up again.

"Any questions?" His tone was friendly, and there was no indication whether he was thinking about my pregnancy or not. Why hadn't he asked me about it yet? It was almost as if, just like me, he were avoiding the topic.

"No," I replied quickly. "But do you have any instructions, anything you want me to do? Should I get changed?"

I had followed him to the improvised camera station, and he made a gesture instructing me to stand in front of the white wall next to the elevator. A neutral, featureless background that wouldn't give the Veril any information about where the message had been filmed. I pulled on my dress, doubting that this was the right outfit for the endeavor.

The Peruvian gave me an assessing look up and down, and when his eyes met mine again, there was a slight smile in their corners. "This is perfect; you look like a queen."

I blushed, unsettled by this unexpected compliment, but he had already moved on to his next instructions. "At the beginning you should introduce yourself--makes the thing more personal. And then you just read out the speech. Comrade Franke here is going to hold the text up for you so that it looks more natural."

He pointed at one of the rebels behind the table, and I recognized the bearded man who had served us the spaghetti with dog food sauce yesterday. I smirked remembering Lilly's comment, and he smiled back. It was a warm and earnest expression that reminded me a little bit of my father. "Just be yourself and don't panic if you mess up; we'll cut it before broadcasting anyways."

I nodded and left the crumpled paper on the table. Someone was playing with the lights, switching different lamps on and off, and the Peruvian made an annoyed gesture. "Leave it; it's fine the way it is. We want this to look real, not like a film studio. Okay, let's do this."

The room fell silent, I straightened my back, the man behind the camera gave me a thumbs up, and then a little red light appeared, telling me we had started filming.