Traitor

The sun rose gently over the polished stone towers of Zimala, its golden light reflecting off pale sandstone and shimmering glass gardens. Birds chirped from sculpted terraces, and streams ran neatly through the city’s plazas. Compared to Jon’s war-torn trenches, this place felt like a dream carved in marble.

Judgment Squad arrived mid-morning, refreshed and focused. Their uniforms were cleaner, their steps lighter.

Their mission: meet with Maro and Danzo for the next phase of the rebellion.

Viper Squad stayed behind in Jon to ensure diplomatic stability.

As Tsuki walked with her squad through the main boulevard, the difference in atmosphere was immediate.

She noticed bright flowers hung from trellises. Sculpted archways cast elegant shadows. Citizens lined the walkways, some giving nods of appreciation, others casting cautious glances—remnants of doubt still lingering despite Memento’s liberation of the district.

“Back like we never left, eh guys?” Tsuki said with a smile, brushing her hand through the warm Zimalan air.

“Didn’t miss the uptight stares though,” Hatori muttered, scanning the eyes of passing citizens.

Geo let out a short laugh. “I second that. At least in Jon they throw rocks with meaning.”

They kept moving, passing a group of new recruits training in the square. Tsuki slowed. Her eyes caught on a figure in the garden.

He stood beneath a flowering archway, surrounded by soft blooms and sunlight—Tona Norasachi, clad in his signature white coat, Yuki’s scarf fluttering gently in the breeze. His black hair caught a golden sheen in the sun, and his glowing violet eyes were softened by a warm smile.

At his feet were two children, giggling as he knelt to hand them each a lollipop from his coat pocket. He patted their heads gently—like he’d done it a hundred times before.

Tsuki blinked. “...Tona.”

The entire squad stopped.

The kids waved goodbye and scurried off. Tona stood and turned, his grin widening the moment he saw them.

“Ah! Tsuki! What’s up, Judgment Squad?”

The group approached quickly, each of them unable to hide their smiles. Even the usually stone-faced Hatori cracked a subtle one.

Geo shook his head with mock frustration. “You know, we could’ve used one of the strongest in Memento yesterday.”

Tona raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in playful offense.

“One of? Now that’s disrespectful.”

He chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Sorry, sorry. Maro’s had me running special ops lately. Guess I missed the action.”

Azumi stood still, completely frozen—her eyes wide, mouth slightly parted. Her face slowly turned cherry red.

Tsuki noticed. “Uh-oh…”

Tona followed her gaze and smirked.

“Ooh… someone’s flustered.”

He leaned in just slightly toward Azumi, his grin smooth and mischievous—the signature Tona look.

Azumi yelped, flailed her arms, and fell straight onto her back in the middle of the garden path.

Tona doubled over laughing. “C’mon, Azumi! I’ve only been gone a few days!”

The squad laughed with him, Azumi groaning as she covered her face with both hands.

Tona helped her up with a warm grin, then turned back to the group.

“So? What brings you back to Zimala so soon?”

Tsuki regained her composure. “We’ve been called in to meet with Maro and Danzo—something about next steps. Riche is the next target.”

“But there’s more,” Geo added. “Apparently… there’s been a leak. Memento’s got a traitor.”

The mood shifted.

Tona’s eyes sharpened just slightly.

“A traitor?” he said, more to himself than to them.

Hatori nodded. “So your ears still work. That’s new.”

Tona smirked. “Good to see you too, buddy.”

He turned serious again, rubbing his chin. “That’s not good… A traitor inside our ranks this late in the war? Timing’s too perfect.”

Knoxx finally spoke, his tone low. “I just can’t imagine it. We’ve all risked everything. Why turn now?”

“People break for different reasons,” Geo said. “Fear. Money. Family. We’ll know when we find them.”

Tsuki nodded. “We shouldn’t keep Maro waiting. Let’s move.”

Tona took a deep breath and stretched his arms overhead. “Well, I’ve got nothing better to do. Mind if I tag along?”

Geo grinned. “Wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Azumi, still flushed, gave a thumbs up. “Please do.”

The squad turned onto the main boulevard leading to Zimala’s temporary Memento HQ, a refurbished courthouse tucked between government towers. Memento banners had replaced the APC crests, and the scent of fresh ink and field rations filled the air.

As they passed an old notice board plastered in civilian alerts and recruitment ads, Knoxx suddenly stopped in his tracks.

“Whoa, hold up—check that out.”

Pinned to the board, half-covered in sun-bleached flyers, was a new APC bounty poster—just a few days old.

The ink was still bold, the message clear.

—WANTED—

THE GHOST

Reward: 900,000 Aldenias

Information leading to identification, location, or confirmed death.

Considered “Run on Sight.”

Engage only with APC Command approval.

Subject is responsible for over 200 confirmed kills. Latest attack reported inside Alden Central walls.

A shadowy figure was sketched in thick charcoal strokes. White coat. Loose posture. His expression read hostile beneath a smiling black mask. Each tooth laid in a perfect line, yet the grin was menacing.

Knoxx let out a low whistle. “Dude’s bounty keeps going up by the week. Look at that number. Who the hell even has nine-hundred thousand Aldenias?”

Geo just looked at Knoxx with a slight irritation. “You really asked that? In the middle of Zimala?”

Knoxx’s palm met his forehead with a solid smack. “Ah. Right.”

Geo leaned in, eyebrows raised. “Anyways. Apparently there was another breach in Alden Central last week. This guy’s nuts—just walking around like it’s his own backyard. APC reported missing rations in the area too.”

Knoxx crossed his arms, impressed. “Right under the Council’s nose? Bold.”

Azumi gave a short nod, eyes still scanning the poster. “You’d think they’d sleep better if they didn’t keep posting his face all over the place.”

“Or maybe,” Tsuki added, “they post it to remind everyone they’re scared too.”

Knoxx stepped back. “Man… imagine seeing him in person. Can’t believe none of us have even caught a glimpse. Only the upper brass, right?”

The group nodded—except for Tona and Hatori, who stood a little farther back.

Tona’s arms were crossed casually, but his gaze was fixed on the poster, his smile faded for a split second before he shook his head.

Hatori, beside him, said nothing. His arms were folded; head tilted ever so slightly as if measuring something unspoken in the air.

“You two good?” Geo asked, noticing their silence.

Tona blinked and flashed his usual grin. “Huh? Yeah. Just thinking... imagine being worth nearly a million Aldenias and still needing to scrounge for snacks.”

Knoxx laughed. “Guy’s gotta eat too.”

Tsuki watched Tona for a moment longer, her brows ever so faintly drawn.

Then she turned. “Come on. Let’s not keep Maro and Danzo waiting.”

As they continued walking, the poster fluttered behind them in the breeze—watching. Whispering.

Zimala’s temporary Memento HQ stood in what used to be the city’s central courthouse—now cleared of its corruption, repurposed with Memento’s banners hanging high over its stone walls. Guards saluted as Judgment Squad approached, their boots echoing on the polished tile.

Inside the main hall, lit by slanted beams of sunlight and the flicker of Solena lamps, Maro and Danzo stood over a spread of tactical maps and scrolls, deep in hushed conversation.

Tona was the first to step through the door—swagger in his step, hands tucked behind his head like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“Yo. Maro. Danzo. Miss me?”

Maro didn’t look up immediately. “Tona… about time you dragged yourself back here. I was starting to think something went—”

His eyes caught the rest of the squad entering behind Tona.

“Ah! Judgment Squad. Good to see you. What are you doing hanging around with a scoundrel like this one?”

Tona feigned heartbreak, clutching his chest. “Ouch. You always talk about me like that?”

Without missing a beat, he flopped lazily onto the bench across from Maro, arms behind his head, eyes closing like he’d just found the comfiest spot in the building.

The rest of the squad stepped in more formally, Tsuki speaking for the group.

“You asked to see us, sir?”

Maro nodded, folding his arms.

“Yes. We’ve been monitoring things through Ringo’s reports. We heard about the Jon operation—excellent work. You’ve all made Memento proud.”

Danzo offered a rare smile beneath his sharp expression.

“Indeed. Judgement and Viper both. And I assume Ringo stayed behind?”

Azumi nodded. “Yes, sir. He requested to remain with Viper. Said it would help him strengthen his bond.”

“Good,” Danzo replied. “His telepathy only works as well as his connections. He’ll be more useful to them once that link forms.”

Maro stepped back around the table, tapping a finger on one of the northern Zimala maps.

“Now—on to more pressing matters. We’ve uncovered some troubling signs.”

The mood shifted in the room. The sun’s rays no longer peeked through the cracks as a cloud passed over.

“APC movement suggests they’re aware of certain plans. Movement that should have been secret. Which means...” He looked up, eyes sharp. “We have a spy.”

Everyone stiffened.

Maro continued. “We’ve narrowed it down to Squad Nighthawk, stationed in northern Zimala. Someone in that unit has been feeding intel. Their reasons? Unknown. But the damage? Growing.”

Danzo responded immediately. “Speaking of Nighthawk, Doji still hasn’t reported in today.”

Geo exhaled. “That’s... troubling.”

Maro’s tone hardened. “You can call it troubling. I call it infuriating. Both of these things, actually. First, men not clocking in for their duties. Second, we cannot stabilize this district with the APC still clutching us by the throat from within. The longer this spy operates, the more danger our people face.”

The room fell quiet.

Maro scanned each of their faces. “I have other units working leads, but if things go south, I need a squad I can rely on. You’re among the best we’ve got. If an emergency breaks out, I want Judgement ready.”

“Yes, sir!” the squad replied in perfect sync.

Maro nodded, then turned to Danzo. “Take them outside. Brief them on the security layout.”

Danzo gave a short nod. “On it, sir.”

The squad stood. Tona rose slower, running a hand through his hair with a long stretch and a groan.

Maro’s voice came again. “Tona.”

Tona paused, mid-turn. “Yeah?”

“Stay a moment.”

Tona glanced back at the squad, then gave his usual grin. “Guess I’m special.”

He turned to them and gave a lazy wave. “Catch you guys later.”

Azumi waved back, still with a spark in her eyes.

Knoxx muttered, “Guy gets called out like it’s nothing…”

Geo elbowed Knoxx with a sly grin. “Jealous?”

Knoxx’s face turned red. “Of course not!”

The group filed out into the sunlit plaza beyond HQ, the tension of the spy report still lingering in their minds.

Behind them, the doors closed.

Inside, Maro stared across the table at Tona, the air between them suddenly far heavier than before.

Judgment Squad stepped into the bustling courtyard, the heat of midday sun shining against the cobblestone. Tsuki trailed slightly behind the others, admiring the scenery. She noticed the continuous improvement of Zimala’s infrastructure since the invasion. Memento had been putting in some serious time for the restoration.

Danzo led with his arms behind his back, his voice calm but firm.

“Alright, Judgment. Today’s assignment—circle patrol through the central plaza. Routine work, but don’t slack. The people need—”

As he spoke, Tsuki noticed the pressure tighten around her. A subtle feeling, like the world held its breath for a mere moment.

Then—

A massive explosion rocked the plaza. Tsuki turned her head instantly. Chaos ensued.

Guards screamed as stone cracked. Civilians ran each and every direction, hoping to distance themselves. A shockwave sent debris flying as smoke erupted from a nearby corridor.

“What the hell was that?” Danzo snapped, spinning around.

Before he could answer himself, a wave of steel burst through the mist—APC soldiers, flooding the square like a sea of white armor. They poured out of a swirling, ethereal portal, shaped like an arched door of Solena energy.

From the base of the glowing doorway—Doji emerged.

A twisted smile. That smug posture. It was him. The member of Nighthawk. A brother-in-arms.

“Doji…?” Tsuki’s voice barely escaped her throat.

His eyes locked on hers with nothing but malice. No guilt. No hesitation. He gave her one last mocking wink—then stepped back through the portal as the chaos unleashed.

Memento soldiers rushed in. Civilians screamed. Maro appeared from the headquarters, diving straight into the carnage.

Maro’s blue flames surged in elegant arcs, disintegrating squads of APC infantry.

Danzo followed suit, spreading his paper-made runes over the battlefield.

Nighthawk sprinted in from the flank—rage on their faces. They’d been betrayed too.

Still, it wasn’t enough. From within the portal… came something worse.

A presence so dark it chilled the Solena itself.

A grotesque, towering figure emerged—black hair tangled, crimson eyes glowing, muscles twitching with blood-soaked tension.

Maro froze—his flame faltered for just a moment.

“...Chaze,” he muttered, voice low.

Chaze cracked his neck, eyes scanning the battlefield like a painter admiring his canvas.

“Ahh… Zimala,” he said, breathing in the blood-filled air. “Been a while. That Doji boy turned out useful after all.”

His grin widened unnaturally.

“And now, this district returns to its rightful owners.”

APC troops surged forward again—until Chaze raised a hand. They stopped.

With a sudden blink, he vanished.

In a flash, he reappeared in the center of the plaza—holding a child.

A little girl. No older than six. Her dress dusted with ash and her eyes wide in horror.

Chaze's blade—formed of solidified blood—rested at her throat.

“Let’s skip the foreplay.” He tightened his grip. “Maro. Surrender now… or I paint this city with her blood.”

Time seemed to freeze itself. Civilians gasped. The image of a Zimala child held hostage—by the very regime sworn to protect them—rippled through the onlookers.

Maro’s eyes trembled and his voice cracked. “All forces… stand down.”

“Sir, no—” Tsuki started, stepping forward.

“Enough.” Maro’s voice thundered. Final and devastated.

Weapons lowered. Memento soldiers stood still, stunned. Some trembled, others whispered in disbelief.

I didn’t think they’d stoop so far... holding an enemy hostage, sure. But an innocent little girl?

Chaze’s blade tickled the girl’s neck. Tears were forming at her eyes.

“Good. Good,” he purred. “Now, all of you—gather in the center. Don’t be shy.”

As they hesitated, he raised a hand, forcing the girl to scream as the blade pricked her neck.

They obeyed. Memento’s proud warriors stood in a circle… helpless.

“Now,” Chaze continued. “We know the rumors. The whispers. The fear. The Ghost of Alden.”

He spat the name with mock reverence.

“Supposedly the strongest ability user in existence.”

He leaned in, grinning.

“And according to our little traitor, he’s here. Right now. Watching.”

Judgment Squad exchanged glances. Tsuki’s eyes widened.

The Ghost? The one from the posters? The one with the mask and the glowing aura? Here?

Even the citizens—who once feared the Ghost—began looking around, hoping he was real.

“So,” Chaze bellowed, “Ghost of Alden. Show yourself. Face and all.”

Silence.

“No? Still want to play pretend?” He chuckled darkly. “Fine. Let’s count. When I finish, and you still haven’t revealed yourself… the crowd gets obliterated. And after that… the girl. Now.”

“Five…”

Tension surged.

“Four…”

Sweat trickled down foreheads. Memento soldiers clenched fists, powerless.

“Three…”

Tsuki’s hand twitched, preparing a shadow pulse.

“Two…”

Maro placed a hand on her wrist. His face… strangely calm.

“One…”

Maro turned. His eyes met a man standing just behind the squad.

Maro gave the faintest of nods, and the figure exhaled before returning the gesture.

"Zero."

Tsuki braced to watch the horror unfold, reluctantly restraining herself from using a shadow. She couldn't, it would cost more people they're lives.

Chaze raised his blade—and the world held its breath.