Demonic Po*nstar System

Chapter 733: Betrayal

Magnus Morvane sat behind his desk with his hands flat on the surface and the broadcast feed playing in his interface.

His left hand was trembling.

Grace stood to his right. Her hands were folded behind her back. She watched him with sheer disgust.

Someone knocked on his door. Then knocked again. Then a third time, frantic, knuckles hammering wood.

”Guild Leader!!”

Magnus didn’t answer immediately. The feed held him, where Alice Ashborn had just spoken his name, his birth name, the name he’d been forced to take back, to an audience of millions.

’Magnus Morvane. Selena Morvane. Cassian Morvane. Calix Morvane.’

’They all tried to kill my brother.’

The knocking continued.

”Come in,” Magnus said.

The door opened and a man stumbled through it.

Harlan, the guild’s administrative coordinator, a mid-forties career bureaucrat who had never once entered Magnus’s office without an appointment. His face was gray. He was holding a tablet in both hands like it might explode.

”Guild Leader.” His voice cracked on the second word. ”I’m sorry to interrupt. Sir, we have a resignation situation.”

Magnus’s eyes moved to him.

The air in the office thickened. Magnus’s hand curled into a fist on the desk, slow and controlled, and the mana pressure that bled off him made Harlan’s tablet rattle against his fingernails.

”Who,” Magnus growled, ”dares abandon New Dawn at a time like this?”

Harlan opened his mouth. Closed it. His throat worked and produced nothing useful.

”Speak. I want to hear the name.”

”It’s...” Harlan looked down at his tablet. His hands were shaking badly enough that he had to grip it with both palms flat to read the screen. ”It’s not... one.”

”What?”

”The number when I left my desk was forty-three.” He swallowed. ”It’s, ah.” He checked the tablet again. His face went from gray to white. ”Forty-four. Forty-five.” A pause. ”Forty-seven, sir.”

The office was very quiet.

Magnus stared at him for long enough that Harlan’s knees began to buckle under the weight of the mana pressure alone. The man looked like he wanted to dissolve into the floor and reappear in a different continent.

”Forty-seven resignation notices,” Magnus repeated.

”And climbing, sir.”

Magnus exhaled through his nose.

His mind was already working, sorting and categorizing the damage, isolating the source. Coordinated mass resignation required coordination, which required a leader, which meant this was a single point of failure dressed up as a wave. Find the organizer, make an example, and the rest would reconsider.

New Dawn employed over fourteen thousand people across its divisions. A couple dozen resignations, even hundreds, were a wound to pride, not to function. He would find who organized this tantrum, bury them professionally, and the rest would remember why leaving wasn’t worth the cost.

”Who are these people?” he asked. ”Newcomers trying to make a statement?”

Harlan’s face answered the question before his mouth did.

”No, sir. It’s...” He scrolled the tablet with a thumb that could barely maintain contact with the screen. ”It’s from everywhere. Low-tier administrative staff, department heads, senior analysts.” His voice was getting thinner with every word. ”High-tier awakened fighters. Contract termination requests mixed in with standard resignation notices. I don’t - I’m not sure which format applies to which, some of these are coming in as formal letters and some are just -”

”Names,” Magnus cut him off. ”Give me names.”

Harlan scrolled. ”Commander Voss from the eastern expeditionary wing. Senior Analyst Chen from threat assessment. The entire leadership team of the logistics division, all four department heads, submitted simultaneously. Councilwoman Fenn -”

”Fenn,” Magnus repeated.

”Her letter arrived eight minutes ago. It was the first one.”

Of course it was. The woman who had stared him down on that call and asked ’Where is Vespera?’ while his other directors danced around it. The woman he’d told to stay in her lane and focus on her division. She’d focused on her division all right. She’d focused on walking out of it.

”Sir, Commander Voss alone oversees three hundred active fighters. His departure means-”

”I know what his departure means.” Magnus’s voice was flat and hard. ”You will inform every one of these people that resignation during an active organizational transition requires a minimum of six months’ notice for veteran-track fighters and ninety days for support staff with equipment buyout at full market value. Nobody walks clean from New Dawn! That is the entire point of how those contracts are structured, so go and do your damned job.”

Harlan didn’t leave.

He stood in the doorway with his tablet clutched against his chest and his mouth working around something he clearly did not want to say.

”Sir.” His voice had gone reedy. ”There’s a problem with the contracts.”

”The contracts are the solution.”

”The terms have been amended.”

Magnus went still.

”What?!”

”A number of the contracts on file contain modified exit provisions. Notice periods have been shortened, in some cases removed entirely. Equipment buyout clauses reduced to nominal figures.” He was reading from the tablet because looking at the screen was easier than looking at Magnus. ”A few Chronos in some cases.”

The contracts were designed to make leaving slow, expensive, and painful. It was only fair for awakened fighters; after all, the guild invested heavily in them. Potentially years of training, facilities, and gear provided while they produced nothing, hoping that the investment would be reimbursed. Tightening awakened contracts was standard practice throughout the globe.

That was the architecture. That was the cage.

And someone had taken a torch to the bars.

”When,” Magnus said, and the word came through his teeth, ”were these amendments made?”

Harlan scrolled. His thumb was leaving sweat marks on the glass. ”The earliest modification I can find is dated four years ago.”

The room compressed.

”The most recent was processed six days before the dissolution of marriage. They’re spread across different departments, different renewal cycles. Each one was approved and countersigned by the co-guild leader.”

Magnus’s chair hit the wall behind him. He was on his feet and the desk creaked under his palms.

”There’s more, sir.” Harlan looked like a man who had been asked to deliver a live grenade to someone who was already on fire. ”We’ve received a bulk payment notification from an external account. Personal funds belonging to Vespera Ashborn, paying the remaining buyout obligations for every amended contract.”

He swallowed.

”Including the service contract for Alice Ashborn.”

The silence that followed was heavy enough to make Grace’s bodyguards shift their weight.

Magnus stared at the stream in his mind as if he could burn through the screen and reach the woman behind it.

Four years. She had sat across from him for four years of strategic meetings, charity galas, quarterly reviews. She’d reviewed contracts beside him. Attended renewal briefings. Handled administrative matters that he considered beneath his attention because the process was sound, the structure was secure, and the woman running half of it had no reason to undermine what they’d built together.

Four years ago...

He instantly knew the date.

When their failure of a son got depressed and left for college.

His wife had been hollowing out their life’s work from the inside since the day Kaiden left their home.

”This is fraud!” Magnus’s voice filled the office. ”Bad faith amendment of binding contracts by a co-leader acting against the organization’s interests! Every single one of those modifications is challengeable in court! Every one!”

Harlan said nothing.

”Get me Hall and Byrne. I want injunctions filed before the end of the day. Emergency motions to freeze every amended contract pending judicial review.”

”Sir.” Harlan’s voice was barely a whisper. ”Mister Hall is on a vacation in Hawaii and he can’t be reached. He’s posting images about sunbathing on the beach with his wife and kids but he doesn’t pick the phone up or respond to messages... And Miss Byrne submitted her resignation and is currently busy calling you a... let me check.”

He fiddled with his tablet before quoting, ”A ’disgusting child abusing egomaniac creep who must be put down for the betterment of the human race’ on Twitter... She just made her fifth post in the last three minutes.”

Magnus’s mouth opened. Nothing came out.

”Get out,” he said.

Harlan left.

Through gritted teeth, Magnus returned his attention to the feed.

Kaiden was still on camera. Vespera was still leaning against his chest with her eyes closed and that small, impossible smile on her lips. Alice was still clinging to his back.