Two days had passed since Lyra first detected the encrypted signals from Valeria's neural interface. For forty-eight hours, she and Elijah had carefully observed, documenting transmission patterns while maintaining normal behavior around the rest of the team. They had barely spoken directly, exchanging information through brief notes and signal gestures when others weren't looking.

  Now, with sufficient evidence collected, it was time to involve Alexander.

  Elijah found his brother standing at the edge of their camp, staring out over a section of the Fallen Grove where lightning-scarred trees y in a chaotic jumble. The fading light of evening cast long shadows across the broken ndscape.

  "Need to talk," Elijah said quietly, gncing back to ensure they were out of earshot. "Somewhere private."

  Alexander raised an eyebrow but nodded, following his brother without question. They walked silently to a small clearing about a hundred meters from camp, where a fallen tree provided a makeshift bench away from prying eyes and ears.

  "It's about Valeria," Elijah began once they were seated.

  Alexander's expression tightened slightly. "What about her?"

  "She's transmitting information outside the Game." Elijah pulled a small piece of bark from his pocket where Lyra had scratched a pattern of transmission times. "Encrypted communication bursts at regur intervals. Lyra detected it during that evening briefing two nights ago when Valeria took off her jacket."

  He expected shock or at least surprise. Instead, Alexander sighed, running a hand through his hair.

  "You don't seem surprised," Elijah observed.

  "I'm not," Alexander admitted. "Not entirely. I've suspected we were being monitored since before we met Lyra."

  "What? Why didn't you say anything?"

  Alexander gave him a pointed look. "Think about it. We're the sons of Marcus Voss. Did you really believe they'd just throw us in here without keeping tabs?"

  Elijah frowned, processing this. "But Valeria specifically? She was assigned to our team by—"

  "By father," Alexander finished. "Exactly. The others were selected through standard protocols, but Valeria's assignment came through his executive access. I've been watching her since day one."

  "Seriously? You've just... let her spy on us this whole time?" Elijah couldn't keep the edge from his voice.

  Alexander leaned back against the fallen trunk. "What would you have me do? Confront her? Kick her off the team? Either action would just alert them that we know, and they'd implement something less obvious." He shook his head. "Better the spy you know."

  "So what's she reporting? Our progress? Our conversations?"

  "Likely everything she can," Alexander said. "Which is why I've been careful about what I say around her." He studied Elijah with newfound interest. "You said Lyra detected this? How?"

  "That's why we waited two days to tell you," Elijah expined. "We wanted to be certain. Lyra's been tracking the signals with her diagnostic tool—you know, the one she uses during maintenance checks? Apparently she modified it in ways I don't fully understand."

  "And you two have been investigating this together?" Alexander's expression was unreadable.

  Elijah shifted uncomfortably. "Lyra came to me first. She was... concerned about how you might react, given that it might involve father."

  Something flickered across Alexander's features—hurt, perhaps, quickly masked by understanding. "That was probably wise," he admitted. "I might have confronted Valeria immediately."

  "We should bring Lyra in on this conversation," Elijah suggested. "She has all the technical details."

  When Lyra arrived a few minutes ter, she approached with obvious caution, eyes scanning the clearing before settling on the brothers.

  "So he told you what I found," she said to Alexander without preamble, dropping to sit cross-legged on the ground before them.

  "He did. I need details. What exactly did you detect?"

  Lyra removed her diagnostic tool from her belt pouch. "I caught it during evening maintenance two nights ago. When Valeria took off her jacket during the briefing, my scanner picked up something unusual—encrypted data bursts from her neural interface." She activated the tool, showing a recorded pattern of signal spikes. "Since then, I've been monitoring during my maintenance routines. The transmissions happen every six hours, precisely on schedule—0400, 1000, 1600, and 2200."

  "Content?" Alexander asked.

  "Can't tell without breaking the encryption," Lyra expined. "But based on the pattern and packet size, it's likely compressed data—audio recordings, visual logs, maybe even interface activity records."

  "Not a continuous feed then," Alexander observed.

  "No, that would drain too much power. This is more efficient—record, compress, transmit in bursts." She hesitated. "You don't seem very surprised by any of this."

  "He knew," Elijah said ftly. "Or suspected anyway."

  "Not directly," Alexander crified. "But I've always assumed we were being monitored somehow."

  Lyra studied him for a moment. "I spent st night's watch shift creating this." She pulled a small bundle wrapped in leaves from her pocket and carefully unwrapped a crude assembly of wires and crystal fragments. "It's a signal detector I made from components in that broken panel we found yesterday. It can't decode the content, but it can detect when transmissions occur."

  She handled the device with evident pride. "I've also found this." She produced a tiny metal component from another pocket. "It was hidden in the lining of Valeria's jacket when she hung it to dry after yesterday's rain. It's a backup storage unit—standard corporate security equipment for preserving data even if primary systems fail."

  Alexander examined both items with interest. "Impressive work. The question now is what do we do with this information?"

  "I see three options," Lyra said pragmatically. "Confront her directly, disable her transmissions without her knowledge, or feed her false information."

  "Or we could do nothing," Alexander added. "Let her continue reporting while being careful about what we say around her."

  "You're not angry?" Elijah asked, surprised by his brother's calm.

  Alexander's expression hardened slightly. "I'm not pleased about it, but anger isn't productive. This is exactly the kind of oversight father would implement—thorough, discreet, and deniably distant."

  "So what's our move?" Lyra asked.

  "We py dumb," Alexander said firmly. "For now at least. If we confront her, they'll just repce her with another monitor, possibly one we can't identify as easily."

  "Or they could pull you out entirely," Lyra suggested. "If your father realizes you've gone off script."

  A fsh of something—anger? worry?—crossed Alexander's face. "He won't. Not yet. He's invested too much in our Game performance." He looked between them. "What we need is a way to communicate securely."

  "What about our team channel?" Elijah suggested. "Valeria might not have access to—"

  "She definitely does," Alexander cut in. "Any team communication goes through our interfaces. If her interface is compromised, she's recording everything."

  Lyra nodded in agreement. "I think I could modify our interfaces, though." She tapped the neural connection point at the base of her skull. "Create a secure sub-channel that her monitoring protocols wouldn't detect."

  Elijah gnced at Lyra. "You can do that?"

  "I think so," she said, pulling up her inventory with a flick of her wrist. She scrolled through and pointed to several small components she'd collected. "I'd need to create a filtering protocol in our interfaces. Not change the hardware, just modify the communication settings." She closed her inventory and looked thoughtful. "The tricky part is doing it without alerting her system that changes were made."

  "Would that work on our interfaces too?" Alexander asked. "Ours are Architect-css, different from yours."

  "Actually, that might be an advantage," Lyra said. "Your interfaces have more processing power and flexibility. I should be able to modify them more easily than mine." She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small leaf with scratched symbols. "I've made notes on what components we'd need from the next trading post. Nothing suspicious—just standard interface upgrade materials."

  "In the meantime," Alexander said, "we need to be strategic about what we say around her. I'm not talking about lying—that would be too obvious—but we should control what information she has access to."

  "We could use the Game's emote system for basic signals," Elijah suggested. "Certain gestures could mean specific things."

  "Too limited," Alexander replied. "And it would look weird if we suddenly started fshing emotes at each other constantly."

  Lyra nodded. "It's better if we just stick to verbal communication in front of her, but be careful about content. Save the important discussions for when we can get away from camp."

  "What about Riva?" Elijah asked. "Should we tell her?"

  Alexander considered this, then shook his head. "Not yet. The fewer people who know, the less chance of accidentally tipping our hand. For now, it's just the three of us."

  Lyra traced patterns in the dirt with her finger, seemingly lost in thought. "You know," she said finally, "I'm curious about something. How do you feel about your father spying on you?"

  The question hung in the air. Elijah watched his brother carefully, equally curious about the answer.

  "Complicated," Alexander finally said. "Part of me isn't surprised—it's exactly the kind of strategic oversight he'd implement. Another part..." He trailed off, staring at the broken treeline. "Another part is disappointed but not surprised. Trust has always been... conditional... in our family."

  The admission seemed to cost him something. Elijah pced a hand on his brother's shoulder, a gesture of silent understanding.

  "We should head back," Alexander said after a moment, straightening. "Being gone too long will look suspicious." He fixed them both with a determined look. "From now on, we assume everything we say near Valeria could be reported. Important conversations happen away from camp, preferably with environmental noise as cover."

  "Like near waterfalls or during storms," Lyra suggested.

  "Exactly." Alexander opened his interface map with a quick gesture, studying their surroundings. "I'll mark some potential meeting spots with good ambient noise. There's a waterfall about half a kilometer east, and several areas with dense vegetation that might offer privacy."

  "In the meantime," he continued, closing his map, "Lyra, how quickly could you implement these interface modifications?"

  "Once I get the components? Maybe a day," she estimated. "I'd need to work on each interface separately, starting with yours since they have more functionality." She lowered her voice further. "And I'd need to do it when Valeria isn't around to notice."

  As they prepared to return to camp, Elijah caught his brother's arm. "You know this means we really can't trust anyone outside the three of us, right? Not until we know more."

  Alexander looked between Elijah and Lyra, something resolute settling in his expression. "Then I guess it's a good thing we found each other."

  The walk back to camp was quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. As they approached the firelight, Alexander squared his shoulders and offered a casual smile to Riva, who waved them over to join her for dinner. Valeria sat nearby, sharpening her bde with methodical precision, giving no indication she was anything other than a dedicated teammate.

  Elijah watched his brother slide effortlessly into casual conversation, noting the subtle ways Alexander now censored his words, carefully navigating topics. It was masterfully done—nothing that would alert Valeria to their newfound awareness, just a slightly more guarded version of his usual self.

  Across the fire, Lyra caught his eye, a nearly imperceptible nod passing between them. The game within the Game had begun.