The Endless Balance of an Ancient Sorrow Volume 2 GC Chapter 4 Beneath Protocols and painted steel where Authority fails and the shadows persist

 CHAPTER 4 

Beneath Protocols and Painted Steel Where Authority Fails and Shadows Persist 

 

The doors of the precinct slammed open. 

Frank Gavern stormed in, coat still flaring from the wind outside, jaw clenched like a locked vault. 

He marched straight for Agent-EYE, not slowing, not blinking—just grabbed the man by his armored cape and yanked him halfway off balance. 

“You insane?” Frank snapped. “You just threw the entire city into panic!” 

Agent-EYE didn’t even flinch. His cybernetic gaze narrowed with mechanical precision. 

“You disapprove, Frank? That’s unfortunate. But I don’t answer to you—you answer to me.” His voice carried the calm of someone who didn’t need to shout to command fear. “I heard you were the best. And yet from what I gather, you’ve your time chasing your tail in the tunnels with Sinclaire and my rogue recruit who’s now missing. Perhaps my confidence in you was... misplaced.” 

Frank shoved him back a step. 

“What about the van? Did you find it? Question the drivers? We could end this right now!” 

“Oh, yes. Your mysterious van,” EYE. replied coolly. “We’re investigating, though it seems like a long shot. Your anonymous witness didn’t exactly leave much to verify.” His EYEs narrowed again. “Who, exactly, was this ‘source,’ Frank?” 

Frank’s fists clenched. “Are you seriously grilling me about that? While a twelfth victim could be in the middle of being taken as we speak?” 

“Yes, Frank. I’m questioning everything. Your resistance to protocol. Your constant refusal to disclose how you know what you know. Since the moment you entered this case, you’ve refused to tell me the truth. So let’s have it. Now.” 

Frank inhaled sharply. He could lie. But what would be the point? 

“…The truth is, I think this is bigger than a kidnapping case. I know I blew it with the sewer search. But I’m telling you—we need to search the rail tunnels. All of them.” 

“And why, precisely, would we do that?” 

Frank didn’t answer. 

He didn’t need to. 

Because Agent-E.Y.E. was a walking polygraph—half man, half surveillance rig. And right now, he was reading everything. 

“…Very well,” E.Y.E. said coldly. “You’re suspended, effective immediately. Hand over your badge and firearm.” 

“I don’t carry one,” Frank replied, fishing the worn badge from his coat and placing it flat in EYE.’s hand. “Never needed it.” 

“Why am I not surprised,” EYE muttered, turning away. “You’re a disgrace.” 

He snapped his fingers. 

“Sinclaire. Hold him. He doesn’t leave this building.” 

Arthur poked his head out from behind a pillar, blinking. “Wait—me?” 

“You heard me. I’m heading to the field myself. Someone in this city still respects order.” 

Frank didn’t argue. 

He just watched EYE. walk away. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

2 

The group had regrouped at the café—Millana, Carol, Tellai, and the Whitacus twins—hunched over Carol’s unfolded city map. The booth was crowded, the table strewn with half-finished pastries and scribbled notes. 

“So what’s that area over there?” Millana asked, tapping a section near the outer ring of Fraid City. 

Carol opened her mouth to answer, but before she could, Tellai glanced out the café window—and paused. 

“...She looks like she needs help.” 

They all looked. 

Outside, on the bench across from the plaza, a girl sat hunched with her face in her hands, shoulders trembling. Strands of electric blue hair blew across her tear-streaked face. 

Millana’s stomach dropped. 

“...Halie.” 

She shot to her feet and sprinted out the door, the others scrambling after her. 

“Halie!” Millana called out. “Hey—hey, what happened? Breathe, talk to me.” 

Haliette’s face lifted. Her expression was shattered. 

“It’s my fault, Milly,” she sobbed. “It’s my fault Urlich went missing…” 

“What?” 

“We graduated yesterday—I offered to take him home, but he said he’d walk. I should’ve insisted. He never walks alone; I always drove him… What if something happened to him? Oh god, what if—” 

“Stop,” Millana said, kneeling. “Slow down. We’ll find him.” 

“No, you don’t get it!” Haliette cried. “I love him. I’ve always loved him. We were going to meet at the amusement park—I was going to tell him everything. And now—now he’s just gone.” 

Millana froze. Her chest ached. She and Urlich had grown up together too. 

She pulled her friend into a hug, steadied her own voice. 

“We’ll find him. I swear.” 

Carol stepped forward. “We need to get her to someone who’ll actually listen. What about that detective—Frank Gavern? He was at the school during the siege, right?” 

“Yes!” Tellai nodded. “We can trust him.” 

Millana helped Haliette up. “Come on. Let’s go.” 

They piled into Carol’s red 2011 Volkswagen Cabrio, the twins staying behind to hold the fort and continue mapping out leads from the café. Carol kept the top down, letting the wind cool the heat off Haliette’s tears. 

Ten minutes later, they were at the Fraid City precinct. 

Millana burst through the front doors like a storm surge. 

“Detective Frank Gavern!” she shouted. “Where is he?!” 

Behind the desk, two officers exchanged startled looks. 

 

3 

Millana’s voice cut through the precinct like thunder. 

Frank Gavern, still technically detained in Arthur’s office, perked up the second he heard his name. He caught a glimpse of Millana and her friends walking by outside his partners office. The girls were here. And if Millana was making noise, it meant something big. 

He slipped to the door, cracked it open, and waved them in. 

“Millana—quick. In here.” 

He didn’t want them talking in front of the FATE jarheads poking around the front desk. Not with this many cameras and cybernetic eavesdroppers in the room. 

The girls shuffled in—Millana, Carol, Tellai, and a teary-EYEd Haliette Rava. Frank shut the office door behind them. 

“Alright,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “Talk to me.” 

Millana turned to Haliette. “Halie… tell him what you told us.” 

Haliette wiped her EYEs, straightened her back, and looked at Frank. 

“Detective... I think I was the last person to see Urlich Hale.” 

Frank’s gaze sharpened instantly. He stayed silent—listening. 

“We graduated yesterday,” she continued. “I was going to drive him home, but he insisted on walking. He said he wanted to walk the route one last time.” 

She paused, breathing hard. “It’s my fault. I should have made him get in the car. I knew about the disappearances, but I let him go anyway—” 

Frank cut her off gently. “Hey. Stop. None of this is your fault. You couldn’t have known.” 

He recognized her. Haliette. She’d been in one of his visions—a quiet silhouette beside Urlich in the cafe, the schoolyard. The name hadn’t registered then, but now it clicked. 

“Here,” he said, pulling Arthur’s Brisbane map down from the wall. It had the cities whole infrastructure including railway line. “Show me where you last saw him. Start with your school.” 

Haliette stepped forward, EYEs scanning the colorful sprawl until she pointed. 

“Elliot Bran High, in the Green Hill suburb. He left just a few blocks from there.” 

Frank nodded slowly. Dots began to connect in his head. 

“Halie,” he said, locking EYEs with her. “What you did just now—that was brave. Thank you.” 

She swallowed hard. “Can you find him?” 

“I’ll do more than that,” Frank said. “I’ll bring whoever did this to justice.” 

He lowered his voice, glancing to the door. 

“But now I need you to go. Don’t talk to anyone from FATE. Not a word. They’ll have you stuck in an observation cell until curfew. Just go home. Stay safe.” 

Despite the weight of everything, the girls believed him. 

 Carol, Tellai, and Haliette felt it—Frank’s words weren’t just comfort. They were truth. 

They left without another word. 

But Millana paused in the doorway. Her jaw was tight. EYEs laser-focused. 

She wasn’t going home. 

 None of them were. 

This was no longer about some masked vigilante. Not to her. 

Now? 

It was personal. 

Back inside the office, Frank closed the blinds, dimmed the lights—and sat cross-legged on the floor. 

He focused his breath. 

Cleared his mind. 

And let the shadows speak. 

 

4 

Fraid City Railway Station buzzed with barely concealed tension. Transit officers hovered by their booths, FATE agents paced with scanners and notepads, and lines of confused passengers rerouted around the chaos like schools of fish avoiding a shark. 

Detective Arthur Sinclaire stepped onto the main platform—and immediately spotted him. 

Agent-EYE stood near a cluster of railway personnel, arms crossed over his chestplate, cloak swaying as he reviewed reports on his ocular HUD. 

Arthur approached cautiously. 

“Sir, what are you doing here? I thought you dismissed Frank’s theory.” 

EYE didn’t turn. 

“I never said that,” he replied coolly. “I said I don’t trust agents who hide the truth. There’s more to Frank Gavern than he shares, but his track record speaks volumes. And while I don’t appreciate working blind...” 

His cybernetic gaze shifted to Arthur. 

“…I’d be a fool to bet against his streak.” 

Arthur blinked. 

“So… you’re searching the rail tunnels after all?” 

“Yes,” EYE said. “Every single one. Top to bottom.” 

He turned. “You’re supposed to be watching him, though.” 

“I am.” Arthur held up his phone—live footage showed Frank seated in his office, meditating silently. 

“Huh,” EYE muttered. “Didn’t know he was the meditating type.” 

Arthur thought: Figures. He’s the type to commune with shadows and walk away with answers. 

“Let me guess,” EYE continued. “He asked you to poke around?” 

Arthur nodded. 

“Good,” EYE said. “Then you can help me. Let’s see what your friend wanted us to find.” 

They entered the station’s admin wing where FATE agents had begun canvassing every department—conductors, janitors, schedulers, and engineers. No stone was left unturned. It wasn’t just an interrogation; it was a forensic ecosystem review of Fraid City’s entire railway structure. 

Eventually, they were brought before the Head of Transit, a broad-shouldered man with calloused hands and years etched into his crow’s feet: Jordy Hanks. 

Next to him stood someone much smaller—Mira Delane, a petite woman in a navy technician’s coat. She looked perfectly harmless and cute. 

Which made Arthur immediately blush. 

“Mr. Hanks,” EYE began, “we need your cooperation. This isn’t about routine procedures. We need a full understanding of your rail system—routes, technologies, fail-safes, everything. We want to know how your tunnels are monitored. Any blind spots. Any dead zones.” 

Hanks stiffened. “What is this about?” 

Arthur stepped in. “You haven’t seen the news? Have you been living under a rock” 

Hanks shook his head slowly. 

“It’s the missing boys,” Arthur said flatly. “We believe they may be somewhere inside this system.” 

Hanks went pale. 

“I—good lord. Of course, ask whatever you need.” 

And he did. Jordy explained with authority: 

“Modern trains in Fraid City run on electric traction, powered by overhead catenary lines (OLE). 

Every active tunnel is fitted with motion sensors, signal transponders, and live-feed cameras. 

Security patrols monitor stations regularly, and platform check-ins are logged digitally. 

No active train leaves or enters without a dozen data points pinging across their system.” 

“Our surveillance is airtight,” he concluded. “No blind spots. No gaps. No way something like this could be happening under my nose.” 

EYE nodded. “That’s good to hear.” 

Then Arthur leaned in. “What about the old tunnels? The ones shut down during the modernization refit?” 

Jordy hesitated. 

“They’ve been closed for years,” he said slowly. “Sealed off. Reinforced. Most were converted or abandoned after diesel stock was phased out. You’d need insider access to navigate them safely. Maybe not even then.” 

“And those old trains?” Arthur asked. “Still down there?” 

“Some. Rusting in the dark. But they’re dead. Obsolete. No power. No way someone’s driving those things unless they’ve got a degree in necromancy.” 

“Actually,” said a soft voice, “it is possible.” 

All EYEs turned to the woman beside him. 

Mira Delane stepped forward—small, clean-cut, gentle. She smiled with professional politeness. 

Her voice was quiet. Methodical. 

“The trains stored in those tunnels are mostly diesel-electric hybrids. They don’t need overhead lines to run. The onboard diesel engines generate electricity directly for the traction motors.” 

“If someone had access to fuel—or knew where to find it, say, in forgotten supply lockers—restarting one wouldn’t be hard. Especially not for someone who knows the old systems.” (She continues) 

“With the right mods, you could even wire them with battery banks or inverter kits, retrofitted into the engine housing. That could supply lighting, door controls, even surveillance jamming if you knew what you were doing.” 

She tilted her head slightly. 

“These trains were built to endure decades of wear. They’re heavy, loud, but... reliable. You’d be surprised what still runs with enough obsession and patience.” 

A flicker of something moved across EYE’s face. 

And Arthur’s had a case of the butterflies. 

He looked again at Mira—at the spotless coat, the badge, the soft smile made that made him blush. 

Yeah... I bet you’d be surprised, he said sounding smitten. 

E.Y.E. turned to Hanks. “We’ll need full records of tunnel access codes—both current and pre-modernization. If there’s even a chance someone’s weaponized those routes, we’ll find out how.” 

Hanks nodded, rattled. 

Mira said nothing more. 

But when her gaze drifted across the room, it didn’t rest on Arthur or E.Y.E. 

It rested on a railway schematic tacked on the wall. 

Specifically—The old Railway System. 

She smiled again. 

Agent-E.Y.E. turned toward Mira and Jordy, his tone brisk but firm. 

“Right. Someone here must know how to access the abandoned line off Sentinel Avenue. Detective Sinclaire is to be granted full clearance immediately.” 

Jordy opened his mouth to protest—but Mira spoke first. 

“Oh, I can get him in,” she said, light as air. “No problem at all.” 

She smiled up at Arthur—bright, harmless, helpful. 

He blinked. “You can?” 

“Of course. I’ve done system checks down there before. I know the emergency bypass codes by heart.” 

She tapped her ID badge. “Protocols haven’t been updated in years.” 

Agent-E.Y.E. gave a sharp nod. “Good. Get to it. And Sinclaire?” 

Arthur looked up. 

“Whatever she shows you… document everything. Leave no part of the tunnel unlogged.” 

“Understood,” Arthur replied, already following Mira out of the admin wing. 

He tried not to notice the sway in her step. Or the subtle perfume of steel and vanilla. 

 She’s just a tech, he told himself. Knows how to work trains. That’s all. 

Still, his cheeks burned slightly. The others hadn't missed it. 

E.Y.E. watched them disappear through the station doors, expression unreadable. He received a communication then left the station leaving one his FATE Agents to oversee the operation.