Part 2 of The Phishing Files – A Five-Part Story Series
The torches burned low along the outer walls of Dunleigh Keep.
Midnight neared. The kind of stillness that unnerves horses and humbles men.
You were the night warden. Steady hands, sharp eyes. The last line between silence and siege.
And then he came.
A rider. Cloaked. Mud-caked. Riding hard.
He bore the King’s crest.
He wore the proper sigil.
He carried a sealed scroll and spoke with your commander’s authority.
“Your orders have changed,” he said. “The northern gate must be opened by sunrise. A convoy is inbound. The King sends his thanks.”
His words matched the protocol.
His seal looked unbroken.
His tone was perfect—too perfect.
Still, something felt off. No challenge phrase. No call-and-response code. You asked for it. He sidestepped.
“There’s no time,” he said. “The King insisted on haste. He knew you’d understand.”
But haste was the oldest trick. And you didn’t serve the King.
You served the protocol.
“No passphrase. No gate.”
He didn’t flinch. Just nodded and turned.
By dawn, there was no convoy. No confirmation. No correction.
Just a scroll in the fire, and a keep that never fell.
Because deception rarely arrives like an enemy—it arrives like an ally.
And the most dangerous story… is the one you want to hear.
This is Part 2 of The Phishing Files—a five-part story series.
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