Chapter 4: Traces and Threads

  The sunlight sliced through the blinds, warm but unwelcome. Kade blinked into the brightness, already thinking of bullet casings and names. He ran a hand through his messy hair and sighed. Another day. Another chance to get closer.

  After dressing quickly, he left for school, blending into the flow of students like a shadow in motion.

  Jason and Elis were already at the gate.

  “Yo, Kade!” Jason waved. “You smiled yesterday, man. Like, actually smiled.”

  Elis smirked. “Yeah. I thought the world was ending.”

  Kade gave a small shrug. “It was fine.”

  The three walked into school. Kade’s expression stayed neutral, but inside, his thoughts churned. That brief flicker of happiness—they couldn't afford it. Not now. Not with so much left undone.

  Classes passed in a blur. Equations, lectures, half-hearted notes. When the final bell rang, Kade was the first out. He rushed home, barely nodding to his grandmother before locking himself in his room.

  He sat at his desk, opened his laptop, and pulled up everything he had on Grason Weaponry. The connection between the bullets and the company still gnawed at him like a splinter he couldn’t pull out.

  "Eighteen deaths,” he muttered. “All tied to detectives who worked my father and sister’s case. And every bullet traced back to Grason…”

  He dove into purchase logs, sketchy online marketplaces, and arms dealer registries. Line after line, file after file—until five names stood out. He scribbled them down:

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  1. Mayron Daymion – Former black market dealer. Ties to crime syndicates. Served time. Claims to be clean.

  2. Liki – Alias. No known gender. No identity. Purchases rare ammo in private forums. A ghost.

  3. Dragon – A gang, nearly forgotten. Ten years ago, they rivaled mafias. Now, fewer than forty members. Dormant—but maybe not dead.

  4. Korvett Industrial – Large, public, corporate. Scratched off.

  5. Voltek Munitions – Government contractor. Too clean. Unlikely.

  Kade scratched out the last two.

  Too obvious. The killer’s smarter than that.

  That left three: Mayron, Liki, Dragon.

  He typed up a report and forwarded it to Ruki through their encrypted channel.

  Minutes later, a reply:

  “Good work. We’ll go over this at the meeting.”

  His phone buzzed—an incoming call from The Voice.

  “Kade. Meeting rescheduled. Saturday. Be ready.”

  “Got it,” Kade said, and hung up.

  He leaned back, staring at the ceiling. A map bloomed behind his eyes—lines of connection, names, fragments of motive.

  “Mayron… Liki… Dragon. One of you knows something. One of you is feeding the killer… or is the killer.”

  He closed his eyes. The threads were pulling tighter. He could feel it.

  ---

  Saturday

  Kade logged into the secure Birds meeting. The familiar dark interface and masked usernames flickered to life.

  Ruki’s icon lit up first. “I’ve compiled Kade’s report. Let’s break it down.”

  A file opened across all their screens. Kade’s analysis. Clean, detailed, implicating.

  Ruki continued, “Three suspects. Mayron Daymion, Liki, Dragon. Mayron’s visible—criminal past, now a public weapons collector. Liki is a ghost. Dragon’s been quiet for years, but they’re not gone.”

  Kade unmuted. “The ammo used in the murders is rare. Found black market traces linking it to these three. Mayron’s trail is cleaner now, but it’s still there. Liki has no identity. No photos, no addresses. Dragon… their silence might be a cover.”

  Another voice chimed in—a man’s. “Mayron’s always rubbed me the wrong way. Even if he’s not the killer, he’s part of the machine.”

  Then The Voice spoke. Calm. Steady.

  “I’m getting NDU involved. Quietly. But no exposure. If we tie hard evidence to Mayron, I’ll push for an investigation—off the record.”

  A beat of silence followed.

  “Good work,” The Voice said. “Next meeting in four days. Stay sharp.”

  The screen faded to black.

  ---

  Sunday Afternoon

  The park was quiet, leaves rustling in the soft wind. Kade sat on a bench, hoodie drawn over his head. Watching. Thinking.

  Elis appeared, holding two bubble teas. She handed one to him and plopped down beside him.

  “Here,” she said. “You always order the same flavor. So boring.”

  “It’s predictable,” Kade said softly.

  She smiled. “Predictable can be comforting, I guess.”

  Silence settled. The hum of the park wrapped around them like background music to a moment neither rushed.

  Then Elis spoke again.

  “Y’know, I love painting. Especially sunsets. But I always mess up the orange and pink blend. I get the colors wrong. Still… I keep trying.”

  Kade glanced at her. “Why?”

  “Because it’s beautiful. And maybe one day, I’ll get it right.”

  Another pause. This one held a little more weight.

  Elis stood up. “Anyway, I gotta go.”

  “Yeah… sure,” Kade replied.

  He watched her leave, the cold bubble tea untouched in his hands.

  One more moment that didn’t belong to the case—but maybe mattered anyway.