Episode 16
The forced separation from Isabella began immediately after the Crypt's collapse. Kaine had driven her to a remote, prepaid room, exchanging the small, encrypted thumb drive—their only emergency communication link—before leaving her with the cold, unsettling serenity of her emotional compliance.
Kaine knew every mile he drove away was a necessary safeguard; he was contaminating her with every official interaction he faced.
Kaine returned directly to the precinct, not to his desk, but to the suffocating scrutiny of Internal Affairs (IA). He was suspended within 48 hours, but the interrogation began immediately.
The room was small, soundproofed, and harshly lit by fluorescent panels that hummed with a life independent of the turmoil Kaine was experiencing. Captain Walsh, a hard-edged, methodical woman with thirty years on the job and a reputation for cold, bureaucratic efficiency, sat across from Kaine. She was flanked by two IA officers, Lieutenant Sanchez and Detective Miller, both looking at Kaine with a professional distaste usually reserved for proven corruption.
The focus wasn't the explosion itself, which was messy but contained; the focus was Kaine's highly irregular, months-long conduct leading up to it.
"Let's start with the Vance fire, Detective," Captain Walsh began, her voice crisp and devoid of warmth, tapping a meticulously organized file.
"Your initial report on the scene was clean—faulty wiring. But then, for reasons we have yet to discern, you suddenly became obsessed with a civilian, Isabella Vance, and her junk door. We have bank records showing you initiated unauthorized equipment rentals, including heavy-duty moving straps and specialized transport equipment. Your unmarked vehicle was tracked via GPS to Bay 14—a restricted, police overflow site—the night before a second vandalism incident at that location.
"
Kaine, exhausted but prepared to the point of memorization, maintained a veneer of cynical resignation. He had spent the preceding 72 hours constructing a lie so intricate and self-defeating that IA would believe it, precisely because it pointed to Kaine's own professional failings—a narrative IA loved.
"The Vance fire was a spectacular failure, Captain," Kaine confessed, allowing a genuine note of professional remorse to enter his voice. "I missed something. I let a case go cold. When the two-million-dollar offer for the door surfaced, and the subsequent 'vandalism'—which I believed to be professional hits—started, I went off-book. Standard procedure was yielding nothing but red tape, so I chased the lead myself."
He carefully deflected everything toward the criminality of Silas, painting the High Breaker as a sophisticated, international criminal.
"The man you call Silas, Captain? He's the key," Kaine emphasized, leaning slightly forward. "He wasn't after some sentimental antique.
He was running a highly organized, international copper theft ring, using advanced sonic tools to breach heavy structures. That's what hit Bay 14—they were casing the metal in the restricted area. And that's what caused the massive explosion at the substation, where they were likely trying to breach the old utility vault for the lead and copper piping. Isabella Vance was collateral—a potential witness who had seen their initial attempts to buy the 'junk' door. I tried to use her as bait."
The IA officers pressed Kaine hard on his final involvement. Why the unauthorized emergency call? Why did he personally process the scene before the structural engineers, leading to a compromised chain of custody?
Kaine knew he had to sacrifice his reputation for the greater secret. He drew on his real, deep-seated guilt over the past cold case—the emotional failure the Threshold had amplified—and used it as a narrative shield.
"I was obsessed," he confessed, letting his exhaustion show as a profound psychological flaw. "After the failure at Bay 14, I realized I had to catch Silas and his ring. They were too big, too dangerous to ignore. I went to the substation—an obvious target for heavy metal theft—to try and catch them in the act myself. The minute I saw the specialized damage—the work of their sonic tools—I knew it was volatile. I went in immediately, trying to secure evidence and save the civilian victim."
He paused, letting the silence hang heavy. "It was a lapse in judgment born of frustration and a need to redeem my earlier failures, not criminal intent. I violated protocol because I thought I could solve the case alone. I contaminated the scene. I am guilty of procedural misconduct and reckless endangerment, but nothing more."
Detective Miller scribbled furiously. Captain Walsh, however, leaned back, her face unreadable. She had the confession she needed. Kaine had given IA the internal corruption narrative they wanted—a veteran detective driven mad by his past—which served to neatly explain every supernatural anomaly without ever mentioning Guardians, Breakers, or psychic pulses. It preserved the secret at the cost of his entire career.
The final verdict was swift and expected indefinite suspension without pay, with a recommendation for an eventual forced resignation. Kaine was immediately stripped of his badge, his service weapon, and his access privileges.
Later that day, Kaine sat alone in his empty apartment. The silence was palpable, but it was a regular, human silence, far less terrifying than the emotional void Isabella now carried. He was a detective with no badge, no access, and no jurisdiction. He had successfully traded his career for the cover-up.
He pulled out his personal phone and made a single, necessary, final call to Professor Albright, who was now living in quiet retirement.
"It's done, Professor," Kaine said softly. "The Threshold is buried under tons of concrete. Isabella executed the seal. Silas is due for release within the week, but he has no device. I'm officially off the grid—suspended."
Albright's voice was heavy with ancient regret. "The girl paid the full price, didn't she? The cost of memory. I warned her father."
"She did," Kaine confirmed. "And she's running on pure logic now. She's the safest one of us, Professor. But she's alone."
Albright agreed to serve as an occasional, indirect conduit of esoteric information, a distant observer of the old world of the Guardians, while Kaine began his new, isolated life.
Kaine looked at the encrypted thumb drive on his desk—Isabella's ghost link. He was isolated from his job, his colleagues, and now, indefinitely, from the only other person who understood the terrible, necessary cost of the war they had fought. The silence left by the Threshold was now enveloping Kaine's world, forcing him into a solitary, watchful exile. He was a Guardian by proxy, forever bound to a secret he could never share.