Evading the security at the greenhouse wasn't difficult. Kanden observed them, waiting for the sentries' attention to drift as one turned to the other to strike up a conversation. Every time they turned, Kanden moved slowly, staying within the shadows of the broken lights. The outer walls were dim, and most people moving within the square tended to walk in the open, keeping their gazes fixed only on their intended destination and never bothering to see what lurked within the darkness.

He crept along the edges, keeping a watch for movement around him, but the guards never once looked in his direction. Workers on their way to their duties crossed the square center, drawing uninterested stares from security, but once they disappeared, the men at the greenhouse door resumed their conversations.

A light flickered over the path the officials took, leaving Kanden no choice but to expose himself. He was supposed to be at the conservatory; they expected him there, and would wonder why he went to great efforts to conceal himself if they caught him running in the opposite direction. But, as a member of one of the most prominent Founding Families, he counted on a severe beating at most. Unlike others in this society, he had more room to bend the rules. And if he didn't act now, he'd lose the opportunity to find the answers Mother was so keen to hide from him.

He waited for one of the foragers to approach the guards before making his move. As they both faced the woman to give her access and unlock the gate, Kanden darted into the hallway with stealthy, silent steps. This path wasn't as well-lit like others, giving him the advantage of darkness as he caught up to the council members while maintaining a safe distance.

Old lights attached to the walls flickered much like the others within the caverns, bathing everything in almost total darkness. The solar panels above were either malfunctioning, falling into disrepair, or a storm raged topside. Before calamity forced humanity underground, the bunker had been built within natural caverns beneath a mountain, using advanced technology. From what he understood, the panels were enclosed by a glass dome, and only a few people were permitted access to maintain them, but those routes had been blocked for years after a mild earthquake damaged the entry tunnels.

That had been sometime before his birth, and to this day, maintenance struggled to find the resources to remove the debris and fortify the structural integrity. They'd made progress, only to lose an entire team to a cave-in, leaving the council at square one.

Not that the population knew. Kanden only possessed this knowledge because he was nosy, and Father had underestimated his ability to eavesdrop.

Within minutes, a furious feminine whisper reached his ears. "Someone should have said something before I investigated the source."

Mother. He'd recognize her tone anywhere. Only she could command a crowd in a hushed tone and have it reverberate off every wall. Though rare, her anger was terrifying because of the control being the rage. Even Father knew when to back away.

"We couldn't involve you, Ivarra," another person said — this voice belonging to a male. "We thought it best to leave you in the dark to avoid suspicion."

"By poisoning one of the only healers we have?" she demanded. "We're barely surviving as it is!"

"Hold your thoughts until we reach the council chamber," Father cut in. "Do any of you hear something?"

Shuffling feet came to an abrupt halt, and Kanden almost tumbled forward as he halted, holding his breath and concealing himself around a jutted edge in the rough-hewn walls. His heart raged inside his rib cage, ready to punch a hole through his chest.

"I hear something," Mother snapped, making Kanden press closer to the wall until a sharp edge poked his spine. "It's you speaking."

A drip swallowed the noise of a short huffed followed with, "I'm not going to get into this with you right now. Let's get to the chambers so no one overhears us. We shouldn't talk so openly."

"No one followed us," assured the other voice. "Arlo, have you seen anything yet?"

"No," replied a deep, fourth voice belonging to the Chief Engineer. "No one was in the square when we entered this tunnel. Everyone knows it's off-limits."

Meaning anyone caught would be arrested and killed. Father really should have screened his task force better.

Apparently satisfied, someone grunted, and the footsteps thudded over the worn path again. Once they receded enough for Kanden not to be overheard, he slipped out of his boots and carried them as he followed barefoot, careful not to give himself away. If Father suspected something now, he'd surely check again when no one expected it.

The group continued in tense silence until the path ended, and a double steel door appeared. In the dim, narrow passageway, the structure loomed from the ground to almost four meters, fitted into the rock with precision so perfect, one might think the doors had evolved organically. No one could enter without three sets of keys, designed with security and secrecy in mind.

Kanden hung behind a curve in the tunnel, occasionally peeking around the corner. Father, Arlo, and a third, short man with a balding head huddled around the entrance, leaving Mother and a fifth figure, the final Council member and only other female, to the side. Mother stood a head shorter than the second woman, keeping her distance and her arms crossed. Though Kanden couldn't see their faces, he recognized Mother's delicate frame and tense shoulders. Everyone except Father seemed more relaxed, while the former moved with predatorial fluidity, never off-guard.

Then, the older man paused, and Kanden hid behind the bend and retreated, aware the darkness wouldn't conceal him forever. He'd passed an ancient air shaft on the way, and he retraced his steps to the rusted structure, wondering if he could use it to his advantage. The air ran on a cycle, and even down here, people had to breathe in the deep tunnels.

He tested the opening, working at a loose screw. If Zeph were present, he'd have had something useful to scrape away the caked dirt and rust, but all Kanden had were his fingernails, which quickly proved useless. The only other item in his possession was a staple he'd attached to his left boot after he'd torn the side.

His head whirred in realization, and he fumbled for the small piece of metal. His boot would be rendered useless, but he was due for another pair soon anyway. With leather impossible to come by, cloth shoes were always the first to deteriorate, especially in jobs requiring heavy labor.

With the metal staple freed, he tried the screw again until it caught inside the crossed fitting, and he turned, biting on his tongue as he focused on not breaking the flimsy tool. The process was slow and painstaking, but eventually, the screw moved, and Kanden twisted it the rest of the way. Then he worked the second screw with more difficulty, snapping the staple right as the stubborn fixture gave way, giving him entrance to the narrow chute.

Before testing his luck, he crept toward the council chambers, peeking around the slight curve in the tunnel. Confirming Kanden's suspicions, Father hung back, slowly moving his head from left to right, scanning his surroundings. The others were nowhere in sight, most likely having gone in before the Head of Security.

Of course the man was paranoid. He had too much blood on his hands to hide.

Pressing his lips together, Kanden moved back to his previous position, biting his lip to hold in a curse when a small pebble dug into the ball of his foot. He dislodged it before hobbling a few steps, and ran toward the vent, deciding to make his move. The shaft had to lead somewhere, and if he was right, it would connect to several others.

The hinges groaned, making Kanden jump, but when no one sounded an alarm or came after him, he opened it the rest of the way and poked his head inside, looking up. The metal space was narrow, but wide enough to fit a small person. Testing the walls, his hand slipped on layers of centuries-old dust.

He considered his options. All he needed was enough friction to gain purchase on the sides until he could climb enough to use his body and knees for support. He'd forgotten his bag at Ryker's quarters, which would have certainly had something useful, but Kanden was fresh out of random items, and a broken staple wouldn't get him anywhere. His tunic was too thin, but his shoes were made of coarse cloth, hardened by mud, soil, and dried plant sap from the conservatory. Maybe those?

It was worth a shot.

Slipping his hands in each boot and ignoring the itchy texture, he tried the vent again, straining from the effort requiring upper body strength he rarely used. The items held, and soon, he pushed himself forward, grateful he didn't suffer from claustrophobia or a fear of the dark. Whether he blinked or kept his eyes open, he couldn't see anything, moving blindly through the tunnel. His limbs ached from exertion while sweat burned his eyes and dripped down his spine.

Dust collected inside his nose as he sucked in deeper breaths, making him question his decision to spy on the council. It would be easier to turn back and go to work, claiming he'd been late after destroying his boots, but he'd never get answers if he didn't try. He'd never know what Mother's involvement entailed, and he'd never trust her again.

Grinding his teeth, he continued his slow pace. Each section had been welded together, producing a tiny lip for Kanden to place his feet. The metal dug into his skin, cutting his big toe, but he pushed on, ignoring his trembling arms.

He'd nearly lost his footing when his covered hands met thin air, and he instinctively flopped toward the space, smacking his rib against the sharp edge. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled, pulling himself over the ledge and resting his face on the cool, flat surface.

Blood thundered inside his ears as his chest expanded and contracted. His appendages had gone numb sometime during the climb, and his toe stung from where he'd cut it.

As he lay there, a scary realization struck him: what if he couldn't get out? Anyone could slide under a bed or low surface to reach for something, but somehow always got stuck while trying to scoot backward. Would he die up here?

Too late for that worry. At least no one would choke or poison him. But this wasn't much better.

The moment he considered turning back, distorted voices carried over the pulse rushing through his head, and he angled his face in the direction of the noise. Concentrating on the direction he'd taken from the council chambers to the ventilation shaft, he determined the sound could only have come from that room. The corridor leading to the room had been long and desolate, and no other chambers had been built around this section.

Kanden almost laughed in relief; he'd been right about the system's interconnections after all.

Not so stupid now...

Inching forward like a worm in an old children's picture book, Kanden slid forward until the words formed coherent sentences. A dim light appeared, forming a set of lines, eventually leading him to a slanted grate at an angle.

Thankfully, it faced downward, giving him a view of the five people seated around a spherical table in a heated debate. Arlo Terrathorn's salt and pepper hair was impossible to miss, much like Mother's willowy frame and tense shoulders, and Father's proud stance beside her. Chancellor Micaiah Helix and Sabre Garasone completed the group, all varying in age from their thirties to fifties — Micaiah being the eldest.

Father's hand rested on Mother's shoulder — an intimate action he never performed within company — as if to keep her steady as she clenched her tiny fists and coiled every muscle like an animal ready to attack. Having come to the party late, Kanden caught only part of her irate accusations. "...make these decisions together. We aren't murderers."

Sabre shook her head and spoke in a low, tired voice. "We've all seen the projections, Ivarra. Culling the population was an inevitability. Unless we find a way to access those maintenance tunnels, more people are going to die within the next ten years. We found it best to allow the citizens to believe it was a disease."

Mother bolted to her feet, swatting Father's hand away when he reached for her. Palms flat on the table, she leaned forward and shouted, "You killed innocent children!"

"All for the greater good," Chancellor Helix replied, unfazed by her outburst. "We had to make it appear as realistic as possible. Fear and hope are powerful emotions, and we live in an unfair society where only the strongest survive."

Once again, Father tried to touch her arm, only for her to whirl and slap him across the face. The crack resounded against the walls, booming in Kanden's ears as his mouth fell open. She'd never struck a person, no matter how much anger she harbored. "DON'T TOUCH ME! You're as guilty as the rest of them!"

Several beats of silence followed as everyone watched the pair. Chancellor Micaiah shifted in his chair while Sabre averted her gaze and Arlo cleared his throat, but no one spoke. Most surprising of all was Father's reaction. Instead of lashing out or reacting in anger, he merely stared at her and lowered his hand. The poor lighting made his expression difficult to read, but as he angled his head, even Kanden could see the shock written across his slack features.

Drawing a slow breath, he nodded once and said, "I didn't learn of the culling until I interrogated Blaze."

Liar.

"Then how do you explain his father being one of the first to die?" she spat, unwilling to accept his feeble excuse. "He was one of your greatest political rivals. People listened to him. Someone always disappears before the elections to ensure a higher born family takes a council seat."

If there had been more space, Kanden would have fist-pumped the air. There was no way Mother could have been involved, no matter how corrupt their leaders were. She was the sole beacon of goodness within a society full of evil people.

Father uncharacteristically shook his head and shrugged as he met Mother's gaze full-on. "I may be the executioner, but I swear I had nothing to do with this."

"Not even Ryker's poisoning? You've never hidden your disdain for him," she accused, shaking with every word. "You told us just the other day to let that fag rot."

"So I did," he confirmed, never looking away, "but I didn't harm him."

What was he playing at? Father never denied his actions, no matter how vile. Was it possible he was actually telling the truth?

As Mother scraped her nails across the table's metal surface, Chancellor Helix cleared his throat before Sabre interjected. "He's not wrong, Ivarra. We decided as a group—" She paused to indicate herself, Arlo, and Chancellor Helix before continuing, "...to keep you two as uninvolved as possible."

Mother and Father both whipped their heads to face the Council in unison, which would have been comical were it not for the heavy subject matter. Those two had only ever been united in their ability to verbally spar and spew insults at each other.

When neither spoke, Arlo steepled his fingers while Sabre folded her arms. Chancellor Helix looked between the pair at each side before releasing a sigh. "Look, no one likes this. The Council has controlled the population in the past during dire straits, and this is no different."

"It's always been decided together," Father interrupted in a cool, measured voice. Only his hand slipping beneath the table toward Mother betrayed his emotions; he'd never been known for physical affection. At least, not in Kanden's memory.

"Yes, well, given your situation in conceiving and your reaction to the choice the Council offered seventeen years ago, we thought it best to make it for you," Chancellor Helix said nervously, fidgeting with his hands.

What choice? And conceiving? Kanden never realized there'd been an issue. He'd assumed his parents had done their procreational duties and called it good.

Mother crumpled into her chair and would have tumbled to the floor if Father hadn't caught her. Even his hands trembled as his breath hitched loud enough to drift into the overhead vent. "You didn't have the right to leave us out of this. What did you do?"

Clearing his throat, Chancellor Helix squirmed beneath what was certain to be a murderous glare. His words come out in a string of squeaks. "I mean, it turned out for the best, didn't it? But we'd intended the poison for your son, not Ryker."

A sob escaping Mother's throat punctuated the air as silence descended upon the room and Kanden's world shattered.