The raid on Juro's workshop hammered home the terrifying reality: the Artificers' Union was escalating their activities, preparing to unleash a karmic weapon. Elias knew he needed hard data, not just theories. The only one who could provide it was Mei Lin's uncle, the Sutra AI technician who had spoken of "glitches" in high-security sectors. But contacting him was a monumental risk, especially now with the Union's heightened vigilance and the pervasive sense of being watched.
Elias planned his move with meticulous precision, relying on the fleeting cover of Scholar Yan's midnight window. He sent a series of encrypted, time-delayed messages through an obscure Bureau sub-network, making it appear as if an internal audit was flagging a minor, century-old data discrepancy within the Sutra Corps' archives. This was a pretext, designed to ensure Mei Lin's uncle, in his role as a technician, would be physically present at a specific, rarely monitored terminal in a remote section of the Sutra Corps' vast data chambers just after midnight.
Elias slipped into the silent, darkened Bureau just before the stroke of twelve, moving like a ghost. He felt the familiar chill of the building, but tonight, it was mixed with a desperate urgency. He navigated the labyrinthine corridors, his senses alert for any sign of Sentinel patrols.
As the clock chimed midnight, Elias arrived at the designated terminal. Mei Lin's uncle, a gaunt man with perpetually tired eyes, was already there, hunched over the glowing screen, inputting a complex series of commands. He looked up, startled, as Elias emerged from the shadows.
"Analyst Thorne?" he whispered, his voice thin with fear. "What are you doing here? This section is restricted."
"I know," Elias replied, keeping his voice low but firm. "And so are the 'glitches' you've been complaining about to your niece, aren't they?"
The uncle's face went pale. He nervously glanced around, his hands trembling. "Those aren't glitches, Analyst. They're... forced memory purges." He lowered his voice even further, his words tumbling out in a desperate rush. "The Corps isn't just fixing errors. They're actively deleting records, manipulating historical data streams. High-level breaches, hidden failures, erased judgments. The Ledger itself is being systematically cleansed, made to appear infallible. The Corps is hiding Ledger breaches."
Elias felt a cold, hard knot of confirmation in his gut. This was it. Direct evidence. "Who is behind this?"
"I don't know," the uncle stammered. "The commands originate from deeply nested, anonymous protocols. We, the technicians, only see the resulting purges. It's too high up. But I've seen the patterns. I've seen the sheer scale of it." He looked at Elias, a desperate plea in his eyes. "They're tightening their grip. There's talk of an internal 'review' of all Sutra AI technicians. A 'purge,' they call it. To ensure absolute loyalty to the Ledger's 'infallibility.' My loyalty... it wavers."
Elias knew this was his moment. He had to secure the data, and he had to offer a compelling reason for the uncle to risk everything. "Help me," Elias offered, his gaze unwavering. "Give me access to those records. Give me the patterns of these purges, the access logs you can find, however deep. And I promise you, I will protect Mei from this coming 'purge.' I will ensure her name is cleared, her future secured. And yours too, if you fully cooperate."
The uncle's eyes widened, a flicker of hope amidst his fear. His devotion to Mei Lin was clear. After a tense moment of internal struggle, he nodded, a slow, decisive movement. "Agreed. I will share what I can. But you must promise me, Analyst. Protect my Mei."
The bargain was struck. Elias had secured a direct conduit into the Sutra Corps' deepest secrets. But the price was immense. He was now inextricably linked to Mei Lin's fate, and to a conspiracy that threatened to consume them all.