The Last Day: The Shadow of the Knight | 02
Chapter 2: "Factory’s Secret Weapon"
Silas leaned back in his chair, staring blankly at the control panel. The factory around him was still humming with activity, more alive than ever. Every flick of his fingers, every absent-minded thought, seemed to send the machinery into overdrive. It was like the whole place had synchronized to his rhythm, and the more he tried to stop thinking about it, the worse it got.
Workers in the distance exchanged glances, whispering about the mysterious uptick in productivity. Supervisors were pacing with furrowed brows, clearly pleased but also suspicious. No one could figure out what had changed, but the consensus was that Silas had something to do with it.
“Hey, Silas!” one of the guys from the line shouted over the clatter of machines. “You got some magic button back there or what? You’ve turned this place into a goldmine!”
Silas chuckled nervously and waved, pretending to enjoy the attention. Inside, he was spiraling. Magic button? He wished it were that simple. What was he supposed to say? Sorry, guys, I think I accidentally became the factory’s overlord?
The conveyor belts in front of him adjusted again without his input. Parts and materials flowed seamlessly, assembling themselves faster than the workers could keep up. A forklift turned a corner and parked itself in exactly the right spot. The whole place was running like a well-oiled machine—and all of it because of Silas, though he still didn’t know how.
His technopathy, though not yet fully understood, was in full swing. The factory itself was responding to his subconscious thoughts, working smarter and faster as if it were under his control. He could feel it now—a strange sense of connection to the machines, like they were an extension of him. It was as exciting as it was terrifying.
By the time the lunch bell rang, Silas was feeling the heat. The supervisors were coming around more frequently, glancing at him with a mix of approval and curiosity. He could tell they were starting to wonder how one guy could be so good at his job, and it wouldn’t be long before they started asking more questions.
He stood up from the control panel and headed to the breakroom, hoping to catch a moment to think. But even as he walked away, the machines didn’t stop working—they kept churning away, following his unspoken commands like loyal servants.
In the breakroom, the workers were buzzing.
“Have you seen the output numbers? We’re way ahead of schedule!” a burly man named Dave said, his mouth half-full of a sandwich.
“Yeah, it’s like someone flipped a switch. We’re breaking records!” another worker added, glancing over at Silas. He managed a half-smile, though inside he felt like he was on the verge of a meltdown.
The questions kept coming, and though the attention was mostly friendly, Silas knew it was only a matter of time before someone higher up started asking for explanations. Executives didn’t care about luck. They wanted answers—and they wanted control.
Across town, in the shadowy offices of Kisonic Enterprises...
Steve Gallagher, still in his janitor’s uniform, moved quietly through the executive wing. He’d been working his cover for weeks now, slowly embedding himself deeper into the corporation’s inner workings. This was where the real dirt was—the place where deals were made in secret, and lives were ruined without a second thought.
He had to be careful. One wrong move, and they’d see right through his disguise.
The halls were mostly empty, with the corporate elite either at meetings or behind closed doors. Steve pushed his cleaning cart toward a conference room, eyes sharp under the brim of his cap. He knew his target would be here today—the executive he’d been tracking. A man named Vance Doyle, the head of one of Kisonic’s most profitable yet corrupt divisions.
Doyle had ties to the mutant trafficking rings, and Steve was close to securing the final piece of evidence he needed to bring him down. But the closer he got, the more dangerous things became. Doyle had his own security detail, and the company’s surveillance systems were some of the most advanced in the city.
As Steve reached the conference room, he casually pulled out a mop and started cleaning the floors, his movements slow and deliberate. Behind him, the door to the room was slightly ajar. Inside, Doyle and a group of executives were deep in conversation. Steve could hear snippets of their discussion.
“…we can’t afford another delay. The factory’s numbers are impressive, but if we don’t get the shipments out on time, the entire deal could collapse.”
Steve’s hand tightened around the mop handle. He knew which factory they were talking about. The very same one where Silas was unknowingly boosting productivity. They had no idea who—or what—was behind the surge, but they were already plotting how to exploit it.
“Doyle,” one of the other men said, “we need to keep an eye on the new guy at the factory. Rumor has it he’s responsible for the uptick. Something’s not adding up.”
Steve’s pulse quickened. Silas was already on their radar. It was worse than he thought.
He continued mopping, moving closer to the door, as his mind raced. But his thoughts were interrupted by a sharp voice.
“You there!” It was Doyle.
Steve didn’t flinch. He turned slowly, keeping his expression blank as Doyle looked him up and down.
“Make sure you clean this place thoroughly. We’ve got a lot riding on these deals, and I don’t want a single detail out of place.”
Steve gave a small nod. “Yes, sir.”
Doyle narrowed his eyes for a moment, then turned back to the others. Steve quietly exhaled and continued cleaning, but his mind was already planning the next steps.
I have to get to Silas before they do.
Back at the factory…
Silas returned to his station after lunch, feeling the pressure mounting. The machines were still running perfectly, adjusting to his every thought. It was almost comical how smoothly things were going. He could barely keep up the act of pushing buttons, knowing full well the factory was practically running itself.
As he sat down at the control panel, a supervisor approached, clipboard in hand.
“Silas, you’re doing great work here, but the execs are asking questions. How are you keeping things so efficient? We’ve never seen numbers like this before.”
Silas swallowed hard. “I dunno, just trying my best. Maybe we’re all just… working better together?”
The supervisor raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Well, keep it up. But don’t be surprised if they come down here to see for themselves.”
As the supervisor walked away, Silas’s heart raced. He could feel the walls closing in.
How am I supposed to keep this up?
The machines around him hummed in response, as if waiting for his next unspoken command.