The Last Day: The Shadow of the Knight | 03
Chapter 3: "Under Scrutiny"
The factory floor was quieter than usual. Not silent, but the usual chatter and clatter were muted. Silas could feel the change in the atmosphere. It was subtle at first—a few more glances from the supervisors, a couple of extra workers hanging around his section, but nothing he could put a finger on.
Until now.
Silas shifted uncomfortably at his station, his fingers hovering over the control panel. He didn’t even need to press the buttons anymore; the machines were responding to his thoughts before he made a move. Conveyor belts adjusted, robotic arms shifted, and the entire production line was moving faster than it ever had. And yet, he could feel eyes on him—watching, waiting.
He swallowed hard, trying to ignore the unease that was building in his chest. Maybe they won’t notice. He’d been telling himself that all day, but the feeling wouldn’t go away.
As he worked, a pair of men in dark suits appeared at the far end of the factory. They stood out against the usual crowd of workers and supervisors, their postures rigid, their eyes scanning the area. Silas spotted them out of the corner of his eye and stiffened.
They were coming for him.
He kept his head down, pretending to be engrossed in his work, but his mind was racing. What do they want? How do they know?
The men approached, their footsteps almost drowned out by the noise of the machinery. Silas kept working, trying to look as normal as possible, but the closer they got, the harder it became to concentrate. His thoughts, once a clear connection to the machines, were becoming muddled with fear.
Finally, they reached his station.
"Silas, right?" one of them said, his voice low and sharp.
Silas looked up, trying to keep his expression neutral. "Yeah, that’s me. Can I help you?"
The other man stepped forward, his eyes cold. "We’ve been watching you. The factory’s been running smoother than ever, and from what we hear, you’re the common factor."
Silas shifted in his seat, forcing a laugh. "Just doing my job. Must be a lucky streak or something."
The first man’s face darkened. "Don’t play dumb with us. We know what you’re doing. You’re a TK, aren’t you?"
Silas blinked. "What? No. I’m just… I’m not a TK."
The accusation hung in the air like a threat. Telekinetics, or TKs, were rare, and the implications of being one—especially inside a corporate-owned factory—were dangerous. TKs were feared and often hunted down by the government or exploited by those who knew how to control them.
The second man stepped closer, his voice a harsh whisper. "Don’t lie to us. We’ve seen the footage. Machines don’t just… work like this on their own. They’re responding to you. No human can run a factory like this."
Silas’s heart was pounding in his chest. Footage? They’d been watching him more closely than he realized.
"I’m telling you, I’m not a TK," he said, trying to keep his voice steady. "I don’t know what’s going on here, but I’m just doing my job like everyone else."
The men exchanged glances, their suspicion deepening. The first man leaned in, his voice dangerously low. "We don’t care how you’re doing it, but the higher-ups want answers. Doyle wants answers."
Silas’s stomach dropped at the mention of the name. Vance Doyle—the executive who’s name had been whispered around the factory, though Silas hadn’t paid much attention at the time. Doyle was dangerous, involved in all sorts of dirty dealings. If he was interested in Silas, things were worse than he thought.
"Look," Silas said, his voice more urgent now. "I don’t know how things are running better, okay? It’s not me. I’m just a guy pressing buttons. You’ve got the wrong idea."
The second man grabbed his arm, pulling him out of his seat with surprising force. "Enough of this. You’re coming with us."
Panic surged through Silas. He pulled back instinctively, but the man’s grip tightened. "Hey! Wait a minute! I didn’t do anything!"
The factory around them continued to hum, oblivious to the confrontation. Workers nearby glanced over but quickly returned to their tasks, not wanting to get involved.
"We don’t have time for this," the first man said, his patience clearly wearing thin. "Doyle’s waiting. You’re going to tell him exactly how you’re pulling this off."
Silas struggled, his pulse racing. "I’m telling you, I don’t know anything! I’m not a TK!"
But the men weren’t listening. They dragged him away from his station, moving him toward the back of the factory where a service exit led to a private loading area. Silas’s heart pounded in his chest as the reality of the situation hit him. They weren’t just supervisors looking for answers—they were enforcers, working directly for Doyle. And now, they had him.
As they pushed him through the exit and into the cold air outside, Silas’s mind raced. He didn’t understand his technopathy yet, but whatever it was, it had just gotten him into serious trouble.
The men shoved him into the back of a waiting vehicle, slamming the door behind him. Silas sat in the dark, his breath coming in quick, shallow gasps.
"I’m not a TK," he whispered again, but the words felt hollow. He didn’t even know what he was anymore.
The car started moving, and Silas could feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him. If they thought he was a TK, they’d either exploit him or worse. And if Doyle was involved, there was no telling how far they’d go to get what they wanted.
He had to figure out a way out of this.
Meanwhile, across town…
Steve Gallagher, still in his janitor’s uniform, stood in the shadows of a high-rise office building, his eyes locked on the entrance to a luxury penthouse suite. Inside, Vance Doyle was preparing for a deal that Steve had been tracking for weeks. This was the moment he’d been waiting for—the chance to finally expose Doyle for the corrupt scum he was.
But as Steve watched, his comms crackled to life with a coded message. It was a direct line from his informant inside the factory.
"They’ve got Silas," the voice whispered.
Steve’s grip tightened on the earpiece. Silas? Was this about their stolen joyride of the VR machine? He hadn’t expected the factory to catch on to the kid so quickly. Silas was supposed to be laying low.
"They think he’s a TK," the voice continued. "They’re bringing him to Doyle. You have to move."
Steve’s jaw clenched. He was so close to taking down Doyle, but now Silas was in the middle of it. The kid didn’t even do anything, and now he was being dragged into something way over his head.
Steve’s mind raced as he turned away from the penthouse and disappeared into the shadows, the Iron Knight once again preparing for battle.