A NEW BEGINNING

Transcript of Deserter Interrogation – Internal Record

“…it wasn’t a battle. You couldn’t call it that. It was flesh. The air itself was burning, machines were burning, people were burning, even those alters who arrived with such pomp only to turn to dust before their feet touched the ground… No one’s coming back… no one… nothing… Only those of us who ran before it all went to shit are still here.”

Investigator’s note:

The subject refers to the incident near the southern frontline. It is most likely a record of the so-called saturated spongus explosion. All further interrogations were suspended at this point due to the subject’s mental instability.

Ela, unknown location

She sat in the quiet dusk of a large room. The dim light of a lamp cast long shadows on the walls, emphasizing the contrast between her and the man seated across from her. The table between them was massive and smooth, as if it had been built solely to divide their two separate worlds.

On one side sat Gramp and his hands. Worn, scarred by a lifelong fight against the world. A face hard as stone, an unyielding gaze. And those eyes. They had seen so much over the years…

On the other side sat her. Her hands, resting on the table’s surface, were neat and clean. The hands of a mediator who, at this moment, had renounced everything that title once meant. Words, her only weapon, felt useless today. One thought filled her mind. She wanted to disappear, go home, see Reng again, and start a new chapter of her life.

But now she sat here, eyes fixed on the man who, against her will, dragged her back into a past she had so desperately tried to escape.

“I can’t say I’m happy to see you,” Gramp said quietly, as if the words truly weighed on him. “It means the situation’s changed and we’re facing new problems and new challenges.”

She took a deep breath and replied with perfect calm, though in truth she felt like throwing up.

“I feel much the same about our meeting.”

Gramp gave a smile. Joyless. “Good. At least we won’t fool ourselves with some idea of friendship that never existed and probably never will.”

He nodded at Ked, who had been standing off to the side like a shadow, and gestured for him to sit with them. Ked obeyed without a word.

“Fate likes to mock me,” Gramp began, his eyes darting between them. “Your father used to be my role model. When he decided to settle down with your mother, I saw it at first as a betrayal. Our relationship never healed after that. And now I’m sitting here with his children. Ironic.”

“Look,” she cut him off sharply. “I know you like the sound of your own voice, but I really don’t have time for this. Why am I actually here?”

“To make history, just like your parents did.”

“Bullshit,” she stood up. “I’m tired. I want to leave.”

Maybe she naively thought he’d let her go. But Ked stood without a word and made her sit down again. Not roughly, but firmly. A signal that today she didn’t get to make her own decisions.

“Great feeling, having family on your side,” she muttered through clenched teeth and jerked her shoulder where his hand had rested, showing just how repulsed she was by his touch.

Ked remained silent. He only pressed a finger to his lips. Silence.

“I know this is uncomfortable for you. But don’t be afraid,” Gramp said calmly. “Maybe we’ve never stood on the same side, but in truth we both want the same thing. That’s why I need to talk to you.”

“I think you’re seriously overestimating the role I held in the Beacon.”

“We’ll try anyway,” he gave her a faint smile. “We know something’s changed in the Beacon. Something’s happening and it’s happening fast and unexpectedly. That’s why we need your perspective. You know yourself that the information the Beacon puts out is, at best, incomplete and, at worst, downright false.”

She paused, staring at Gramp’s face in silence. He seemed tense, and maybe he too was nervous about their conversation. As if he had no idea how to talk to her in a way that would make her cooperate. She didn’t blame him. The kind of information he was after wasn’t something given away for free.

“Maybe I should remind you, Perth Burkhen, that the Beacon has placed a bounty on your head. And not a small one. So give me one good reason why I should betray the Beacon for your sake.”

“Betrayal,” Gramp repeated thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair as if to stretch his aching back. “That’s a strange word, one you can use to describe just about anything. So think about this for a moment. Do you really believe the Beacon still trusts you? After you ran away from them? Believe me, you’re already just a traitor to them. Just like your mother was when she chose to walk away. The only difference between you and her is that Seren had your father by her side. And Noel eventually negotiated terms with the Beacon to protect her. But you? You have nothing. No one. You made the choice to leave them, and with that, you signed your own sentence.”

That stung. Not because it wasn’t true... but because she couldn’t say it wasn’t. Reng’s face flickered through her mind like a flash. She didn’t dare say his name. She didn’t want to. Until they met again, he remained dead to the world, just as he had wished. But for her, it meant she was still alone.

“I don’t matter to them,” she rejected his claim. “I was the mediator of someone who no longer exists. My existence therefore no longer has any meaning.”

“You’re wrong. The moment you put on that uniform, you pledged yourself to them for life. Leaving was a mistake. And they’re already on your trail. One day they’ll find you, no matter where you hide. But we’re offering you another option.”

He paused, letting his words sink in. Ela tried to keep her composure, but the pressure in her head was building. And with it, the shadows of doubt.

“So far the only one repeatedly threatening me here is you,” she muttered and glanced at Ked. He sat at the table, his shoulders slightly hunched, but the way his eyes darted around told her that even he didn’t feel at ease.

“And you have nothing to say to that?” she snapped at him, but Ked only shrugged.

“Gramp is rarely wrong. And if he says they’re after you, then they’re after you,” he said, his voice carrying not even a trace of doubt.

She frowned at him, but had to admit that the worries she’d felt when leaving the Beacon were now even stronger. She hated that she had to rely on gossip instead of real information.

“You know what?” Gramp offered, this time more kindly, though with that strange undertone that told her the kindness had a purpose. “Stay for dinner. See who we are. Meet some of the others. Maybe then you’ll understand why we care so much about you and what you know.”

What else could she do. She knew they wouldn’t let her leave anyway, so she just nodded. Besides, she was starving, so dinner didn’t sound so bad.

***

She sat down at the long table, already surrounded by a small group composed mostly of men and a single woman with a scarred face and a long braid she absentmindedly tugged at. Ela could feel that although they all tried to appear uninterested in the new guest at the table, every bit of their attention was focused squarely on her.

As they slowly took their seats, she tried to recall if she had seen any of them before. Apart from Gramp and her brother, there was only one familiar face: a bald man she remembered from Karhen Rouz. He was the one who had saved her from a near lynching and, later that same night, had carried in the wounded Reng. Now, as their eyes met, he gave her a rather unpleasant grin.

“Prim is up to its neck in the mess it brewed for itself,” one of the men remarked as he scooped food onto his plate from a large bowl. Ela realized from his accent that he wasn’t from Raj but from Letras. That meant Gramp’s connections reached much further south than she’d previously been willing to admit.

“Brooks contacted me, and according to what he said, neither the Council nor the Beacon ever expected their plans to fail. There’s panic at the top and no one knows how to respond.”

Councilman Brooks. That name didn’t surprise her. Seren had already uncovered his ties to Gramp when that damned broadcast had leaked. Still, she found it hard to reconcile that polished, refined man with this ragged bunch of Scavengers.

“Putting all your chips on blind terror doesn’t pay,” the bald man said dryly. She finally remembered his name. Leimar.

“The South is up in flames now. Everything they threw in burned. Machinery, people, even the alters. All turned to ash. And right after the blow-up, our people went for their command too,” the stranger added, and it was clear that by our people he certainly didn’t mean Prim soldiers. “After they took that out, it was just chaos. This one’s going down in history for sure.”

“I could listen to this all day,” Leimar grinned, then stuffed his mouth full of food.

“And this is just the beginning,” Gramp nodded, wiping his beard with a napkin before leaning back in his chair again. He looked at her intently.

“These are the freshest reports. The biggest battle for the South just ended, and you’re now one of the few who know that Prim got completely wiped this time. The infovisions are still silent. They don’t dare tell the people everything went to shit. Wonder why that is?”

She put down her cutlery, completely losing her appetite. She should’ve been glad the Beacon’s plans had failed, but her thoughts kept circling back to Reng, one of those they had sent there. Had he survived, or was he one of those who didn’t make it? Her hands began to tremble, so she quickly hid them under the table, not wanting to reveal how shaken she was by the news.

“Why should I believe you?”

“And why would we lie?” the stranger grinned, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction.

“And who is this, other than clearly being our enemy?” she asked dryly, but as expected, her words were met with laughter from everyone at the table.

“My name’s Sill,” the stranger introduced himself once the laughter had died down, and he didn’t seem offended by her bluntness in the slightest. “Though I doubt that name means anything to you. What matters to you, girl, is that it was my intel that saved your neck. Without it, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

“Ela, accept that Sill knows what he’s talking about,” Gramp confirmed. “And if he says the modificants are done for, then he’s most likely right.”

“Don’t tell me you’re feeling sorry for them now,” her brother sneered, clearly recognizing how shaken she was by the news.

“Reng was among them,” she answered flatly. “But I guess you don’t care, since you never liked him.”

The information took Ked by surprise for a moment, but in the end he just shrugged indifferently. “His loss. He chose his side. We all have to do that sooner or later, and he picked the wrong one. Besides, his talent for catastrophic mistakes was already on display back in Karhen Rouz.”

“He was your family, Ked,” she tried to stir even a trace of compassion for someone who had once been like a brother to him, but it was no use.

“He stopped being that the moment he decided to share a bed with you.”

Ked’s tone cut deeper than she wanted to admit. It wasn’t just her brother’s indifference. There was something darker in his words. As if he felt satisfied, finally the one who held the upper hand. Silence fell over the room, broken only by the clinking of cutlery. None of the others joined the exchange between the siblings, but Ela could feel their eyes on her. Gramp observed the situation with icy calm, as if he had known all along where this would lead.

“So what are you planning to do with her?” Leimar broke the awkward silence, making no effort to hide his displeasure at her presence. “She’s no longer part of the Beacon. She doesn’t have their protection. Why should we risk anything just to feed her?”

“You might be surprised, but Ela is worth far more than you can imagine,” Gramp replied calmly, his tone more like scolding than explanation. “I’m afraid not even she knows just how much.”

“She’s definitely worth something to the Beacon, though unfortunately for her, it’s a negative balance,” Sill smirked. “They sent a group of alters after her. I dare say the order to find the runaway mediator saved their necks.”

Ela’s heart clenched. Could one of the modificants sent to catch her have been Reng?

“Do they have names?” she asked, hope creeping into her voice.

“No,” Sill answered flatly, even though it was obvious to everyone that she’d hoped for the opposite. “But I know their task is to resolve the problem you’ve become.”

The way he said it made it painfully clear what that kind of resolution meant. And for the first time in her life, she felt real fear tightening around her throat. Worse still, the fear of death was laced with the certainty that they would never assign Reng a mission that could end in her death. That could only mean he had been sent south. Into the burning furnace. A wave of heat rushed over her and she suddenly felt faint.

“Maybe we should just let them know where to find her. Save them the trouble, and maybe we get something out of it,” Leimar sneered at her, ignoring the look on her face that clearly showed how miserable she was. She immediately regretted every word of thanks she had ever given him. This man was an even bigger cynical bastard than anyone else at the table.

“That’s enough,” Gramp raised his hand to call for calm, then motioned to him. “Go pour yourself another drink before you say something you’ll regret.”

Leimar scowled but eventually shrugged and walked off.

Gramp turned to Ela in an attempt to calm her. “Don’t take him seriously. Lately we haven’t had as much luck as we’d hoped. We’ve taken losses, and everyone copes with it in their own way. Leimar can be unpleasant, but I have no man more reliable than him. If I told him to protect you, he’d rather die than fail in that task.”

“He knows exactly why he said what he said,” she sighed. “If you keep me here, it’s only a matter of time before you draw the modificants that are hunting me. And you already know what they’re like. You’ve faced them. You don’t stand a real chance against them.”

“That’s what the Beacon said too, before they sent them south,” Sill reminded her, and Ela had to admit he had a point.

“So maybe it’s time you get out of me whatever it is you dragged me here for. Before it’s too late,” she urged Gramp to finally get to the real reason.

He smiled, as if he had been waiting for that question all along. He leaned back comfortably and glanced around the table.

“We need your knowledge,” Gramp said bluntly. “Because maybe we just won an important battle, but I want to win the war. And that won’t happen without understanding how the Beacon works.”

“What do you really want?”

“The total destruction of the Beacons.”

Ela parted her lips in shock but said nothing in the end. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Gramp, however, interpreted her expression differently.

“You don’t believe me? Look at Letras. They’ve lived freely for nearly four centuries because, unlike Raj, their Beacon never woke up. And they don’t need one. Their lives follow different, freer rules, and they’ve managed without Beacons guiding every step they take.”

Ela felt the bitterness rise in her throat. It wasn’t just anger at Gramp or his people. It was anger at everyone. At the Beacon, at Tonot, and even at herself. At how they had all destroyed everything so irrevocably because of their mutual blindness.

“What if I told you that doing nothing would’ve probably been enough, if you’d just waited?”

Gramp narrowed his eyes with suspicion, and Ela, with quiet sorrow, told him everything she knew about Tonot’s plan. As her story unfolded, she saw Gramp flush red, then go pale, then red again. By the time she reached the end, including the werren’s inglorious fate, it was clear that Gramp finally understood.

“Do you understand? Tonot waited twenty years to bring down the Beacon. But because of that leaked broadcast, it’s all over.”

“That sounds way too unbelievable to be true,” the woman with the braid cut in.

“But it is. Which no longer matters anyway, because Tonot is gone. And now, if you’ll excuse me, I need some real sleep. Tomorrow, when we meet again, I expect you to come up with an offer interesting enough to convince me to keep working with you.”

Without another word, Ela headed for the door, and an awkward silence settled over the room, broken only by the soft sound of her footsteps. As soon as she disappeared, Sill glanced around at the others.

“You’re letting her walk out?” he asked Gramp quietly, a hint of doubt in his voice.

Gramp didn’t answer right away. He reached for the glass of water on the table, then let his hand fall away. His face flickered between anger and contemplation, as if searching for the right words but finding none.

“Why wouldn’t I. She’s just going to sleep,” he said at last. “Now she knows that without us, her chances out there are a lot smaller. She’ll stay. She clearly enjoys playing with us, just like her mother did. Let’s hope her worth turns out to be the same, or greater.”

***

Once the door closed behind her, Ela slowed her pace. Her hands were shaking and her heart pounded so hard she had to brace her side with one hand. She closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. She had to calm down. Just for a while. Everything she had learned in such a short time had torn her apart inside.

She looked around, trying to figure out where she even was. She knew they weren’t far from Oko Lahab, where Ked had gotten out of the transport with her, only to transfer her to his own vehicle and drop her off here, in the middle of nowhere, with her eyes covered.

The small settlement that now served as a temporary home for Gramp’s people had been abandoned until recently. She could tell from the buildings, hastily repaired just enough to be livable again. What surprised her was the number of people around, and she couldn’t ignore how many of them were watching her. Even though she no longer wore a uniform, it seemed everyone here knew who she was. Some looked at her openly with disdain, others just with quiet curiosity. In a group of women sorting supplies, she noticed whispers that immediately ceased as she approached. She had long since learned to ignore such reactions, but today each glance felt like a weight dragging her down.

She approached the nearest woman to ask if there was somewhere she could rest.

The woman looked up from her work as if noticing her for the first time and studied her carefully. Then, without a word, she nodded toward one of the cabins. Ela thanked her and made her way in the indicated direction.

The cabin was far from luxurious compared to where she had been sleeping lately, but it had several beds. That didn’t surprise her. While she had been allowed her own bed growing up, she knew that for most people, sharing sleeping space was the norm. She chose the bed farthest from the door and, finally alone for the first time since leaving the Beacon, she dared to pull the meco from her pocket.

For a moment she stared at the ornament hesitantly, but then she put it on without delay.

Almost instantly, she felt that familiar sensation, a subtle dizziness as she merged with the inner system. This time, however, she wasn’t connected to the Beacon, only to the meco itself. And to Seren, who appeared before her almost immediately, just as she always had.

“You made it?” was the first thing the ghostly figure asked, but the look in her eyes said she could already tell something had gone wrong.

“Everything is a mess,” Ela admitted, and as she said the words, she couldn’t hold back the first tears.

“Everything that could go wrong, did. Reng is probably dead somewhere, and I have a hunter on my tail sent by the Beacon. And to top it off, I’m stuck here in the middle of nowhere with Gramp pressuring me to work with him. Gramp. He’s just another bastard like the rest, only by chance he happens to share my goal.”

“You mean Perth Burkhen. That Gramp?” Seren asked, her tone tinged with a strange mix of respect and sorrow. Ela nodded.

“That’s not all bad. He’s always known what he wants. The question is, do you know what you want from him?”

“You’re not seriously telling me this is okay? Can’t you see what it’s like here? I don’t want to live as an outlaw, Seren. I want to go home. I want to keep the promise Reng and I made to each other.”

Ela gasped, struck by the pain of speaking aloud something that would never come to pass.

“We had plans,” her voice grew weak. “We were going to try to forget everything and start over.”

“And are you really sure he’s dead?”

“I... I don’t know,” she admitted, recalling their last meeting in her small quarters. He had seemed so calm, so sure of himself. But then all those words from dinner came rushing back.

“But if he was there, Seren, in that chaos, I can’t imagine he survived.”

“Maybe not,” Seren said. “But Reng was always different. Maybe you fear for him more than you should, because Fate has already shown him many times that his purpose is not to end in some nameless grave. He has his own path and it will find its fulfillment.”

“I’m afraid to hope,” she whispered, trying to kindle one last spark of hope in herself, afraid it would only lead to another heartbreak.

“You’re much stronger than you let yourself believe,” Seren said softly. “And I’m not the only one who sees it. I believe Gramp sees it too, and even though he has his flaws, if you can find a way to reach him, you’ll have a chance.”

Ela listened, feeling herself slowly calming down. Nothing is lost, she repeated to herself. But like the calm she now felt, this hope was fragile. She had to protect it carefully, step by step, knowing that the weight of choices that could change not just her life now rested on her shoulders.

She slowly removed the meco and closed it in her hand. The calm she felt was new and yet so familiar. As if she had found a lost piece of herself again. She looked around the cabin, at the peeling walls and the humble bed, and swore to herself that she wouldn’t stay in a place without a future.

“Nothing has changed,” she whispered again. But this time, not as a question, but as a vow.