The lab was isolated. It was separated from the main safe house by a thick steel door. The air inside smelled of sulfur and cold coffee. Vials lined the shelves. They glowed in the ultraviolet light. Some were blue. Some were green. Some were clear. Moro Shirogane stood at the central bench. He wore protective glasses. He wore latex gloves. He pipetteed a liquid into a test tube. The color changed instantly. It turned black. He logged the result. He typed into the keyboard. The data streamed across the monitor. It was encrypted. It was hidden from the main network. Isaac could not see this. Dante could not see this. This was Moro's private channel. He ran a search query. The keywords were specific. They were old. They were buried.
The search bar blinked. It processed the request. The server was offline. It was a local archive. Moro had built it himself. He had collected the data over years. He had stolen it from places he should not have entered. He had copied files from servers that did not exist. He knew things. He knew too much. The door hissed open. Lisa Fujikawa stepped inside. She did not knock. She never knocked. She walked to the bench. She leaned against the edge. She watched his hands. They were steady. They did not shake. But they had stopped moving. He was staring at the screen. He had been staring for minutes.
Lisa said, "You are paused."
Moro said, "I am processing."
Lisa said, "You have been processing for ten minutes."
Moro said, "Complex data requires time."
Lisa said, "It is a routine trace."
Moro said, "Nothing is routine."
Lisa crossed her arms. She studied his profile. He was calm. He was composed. But there was a tension in his shoulders. It was slight. It was barely visible. But Lisa noticed things. She noticed micro-expressions. She noticed breathing patterns. She noticed when people lied.
Lisa said, "You are hiding something."
Moro said, "I am protecting information."
Lisa said, "From the team."
Moro said, "From everyone."
Lisa said, "Even Dante."
Moro stopped typing. He turned his chair. He faced her. The glasses reflected her image. She could not see his eyes. She could not read him. He was a wall. He was a vault. He was a mystery.
Moro said, "Especially Dante."
Lisa said, "Why."
Moro said, "Because he is not ready."
Lisa said, "For what."
Moro said, "For the truth."
Lisa said, "What truth."
Moro said, "The one that breaks things."
Lisa uncrossed her arms. She stepped closer. She invaded his personal space. She wanted a reaction. She wanted a crack in the armor. He did not flinch. He did not blink. He remained still. He was like stone. He was like ice.
Lisa said, "You go quiet sometimes."
Moro said, "I am thinking."
Lisa said, "You go quiet when Dante is near."
Moro said, "Coincidence."
Lisa said, "I do not believe in coincidences."
Moro said, "You should start."
Lisa said, "Is it about the past."
Moro said, "Everything is about the past."
Lisa said, "Is it about him."
Moro said, "It is about survival."
Lisa said, "Whose survival."
Moro said, "All of us."
Lisa studied him. She searched for the lie. She found none. He was telling the truth. But it was not the whole truth. It was a fragment. It was a piece of a puzzle. She needed the rest. She needed the picture. But she knew when to stop. She knew when to push. This was not the time.
Lisa said, "Isaac needs the data."
Moro said, "Send it."
Lisa said, "The clean version."
Moro said, "There is only one version."
Lisa said, "I know you better than that."
Moro said, "No. You do not."
Lisa pushed off the bench. She straightened her jacket. She looked at the vials. She looked at the screens. She looked at him. She turned away. She walked to the door. She stopped with her hand on the handle.
Lisa said, "When you are ready."
Moro said, "I will not be."
Lisa said, "We will see."
She opened the door. She stepped out into the hallway. The door hissed shut. The lock engaged. Moro was alone again. The silence returned. It was heavy. It was pressing. It was waiting. He turned back to the screen. The search result was ready. He opened the file. It was a medical report. It was dated fifteen years ago. It was labeled with a code name. The code name was Kairo. The second file was labeled Mūn. The files were connected to a specific institution. The institution was owned by Ogata Setsuro.
Moro scrolled down. He read the notes. They were clinical. They were cold. They described experiments. They described subjects. They described survival rates. Dante was subject zero. He was the only one who lived. The others had died. They had melted. They had shattered. They had gone mad.
Moro said, "You are a miracle."
He closed the file. He encrypted it. He moved it to the hidden drive. He slipped the drive into his pocket. He stood up. He walked to the sink. He washed his hands. The water was cold. It ran clear. He dried them on a towel. He looked in the mirror. His face was tired. The eyes were old. He carried the weight. He carried the secret. He was the keeper. He was the guardian. He was the jailer. He protected Dante from the truth. He protected the truth from Dante. It was a burden. It was a duty. It was a curse.
He turned off the lights. The lab went dark. The vials stopped glowing. The screens went black. He walked to the door. He opened it. He stepped into the hallway. He locked the door behind him. He joined the team. He joined the hunt. He kept the secret.
Kairo said, "He knows."
Moro said, "He suspects."
Kairo said, "He will find out."
Moro said, "Not today."
Kairo said, "Why protect him."
Moro said, "Because someone must."
Kairo said, "At what cost."
Moro said, "Whatever it takes."
He walked down the hall. The floor was cold under his boots. The walls were concrete. The air was stale. He reached the main room. Dante was checking his weapon. Isaac was mapping the route. Kisuke was joking quietly. Eikichi was watching the door. They were ready. They were united. They were blind. Moro took his position. He opened his laptop. He connected to the network. He began to work. He typed the code. He sent the data. He kept the secret. The hunt began. The truth waited. The shadow grew. The contract remained.
A/N: Thank you for reading Chapter 10 of Shadow Contract. Moro holds the key to Dante's origin, but is he protecting him or trapping him? Please add this to your library and leave a review if you are enjoying the story. Your support keeps the story going!