Cough
The sound cut through the rain.
'Who–'
Damian's body went rigid on pure instinct, his hand moving toward his spatial ring before his exhausted mind caught up with the motion.
A man stood ten meters away, his robes dark and the black mask covering his face was smooth and featureless.
Luna's arms loosened around Damian, her body tensing.
The man's voice came out filtered, distorted by whatever technology the mask used.
"Damian Valcor."
Damian stood slowly, his movements careful. Luna rose beside him, her silver eyes locked on the masked figure.
'Those robes... that mask...'
His mind cataloged details on instinct.
'One of the five...'
The thought settled cold and certain.
'The Regional Governors... The five masked figures who report directly to the Chairman and oversee entire regions of the Federation. Nobody knows their identities…'
He'd heard about them in passing, whispers in the Academy.
'And one of them is standing in front of me.'
