Leo sat in the dimly lit office, his eyes locked onto the old document spread out before him. The name written at the bottom was impossible.Gabriel Langston.The name of a man who had been declared dead over twenty years ago.The weight of the discovery pressed down on Leo's chest, but he didn't let it show. He had learned long ago that emotions were weaknesses if left unchecked. His father had drilled that into him. But this—this was something he wasn’t prepared for."Are you sure this is real?" Leo asked, his voice controlled but edged with steel.Serena, who had spent hours verifying the data, nodded. "Yes. I double-checked every record. Gabriel Langston was erased from history. No legal documents, no financial records, no digital footprint. It’s as if he never existed. But this proves otherwise."Leo clenched his jaw. Gabriel Langston wasn’t just any name. He was one of the original founders of Echelon—the same organization that had spent decades pulling the strings behind the wo

Leo struggled to his feet, the scent of burning metal and scorched earth thick in the air. Blood trickled down the side of his face, mingling with the sweat dripping from his brow. His vision swam, his ears still ringing from the force of the blast. For the first time in a long time, he felt something unfamiliar—pain.Not just the physical ache from the explosion’s impact, but a deeper pain—the sting of being played.Echelon had set him up, knowing his instincts would push him toward saving someone he cared about. They had banked on his emotions, and they had won this round.Leo clenched his fists.It wouldn’t happen again.His earpiece crackled. "Leo? Leo, do you copy?"It was Amara. The desperation in her voice cut through his haze, grounding him. He forced himself upright."I’m here," he said, voice rough. "I’m alive."A sharp exhale of relief came from the other end. "We saw the explosion. We thought—""I know," Leo cut in. He didn’t have time for reassurances. "What’s the situat

Leo barely had time to process what had happened. One moment, he and his team had stormed into the fortress, believing they had the upper hand. The next, the entire estate was collapsing in on them, flames licking at the walls as Echelon’s soldiers closed in.The burning Zhao estate had become a death trap. Smoke choked the air, and every escape route was either blocked or crawling with Victor’s elite operatives. The man was playing with them, controlling every movement, every decision, like a chess master forcing his opponent into checkmate.Serena was the first to react, moving with deadly precision as she cut down two guards with quick, silent strikes. Amara fired her pistol with ruthless efficiency, covering Leo as he pulled Philip, who was bleeding from a gunshot wound, toward the nearest hallway."We need an exit—now!" Leo barked.Amara kicked down a burning door, revealing a stairwell that led deeper into the underground tunnels. But as soon as they stepped inside, alarms blare

A sharp, metallic scent filled the air as Leo’s vision flickered between clarity and a hazy blur. His body still fought against the remnants of the poison, every breath rattling in his chest. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to sit up on the steel table where Philip had administered the emergency detox procedure.Pain surged through his body like fire, but it was nothing compared to the burning inside his mind. He wasn’t just dealing with physical wounds—he was confronting something much worse.His past.The small, rusted recorder on the table before him crackled again. Then came the voice. The voice he never thought he’d hear again.His father’s voice."If you’re hearing this, then I’ve failed… or perhaps, I’ve succeeded just enough to give you a fighting chance."Leo’s breath hitched. He hadn’t heard that voice in over fifteen years. A ghost of the past, suddenly resurrected through the grainy playback.Serena and Amara stood nearby, tense and silent. Philip’s fingers tapped a

Leo despised every second of this.Victor Zhao was a man he had sworn to kill, a shadow that had haunted him for years, pulling strings from the darkness, orchestrating chaos with the flick of a wrist. Now, that same man was the only thing standing between him and death.But Leo wasn’t afraid of dying.No, what unsettled him was the thought of playing into Victor’s hands.Still, he had no choice.The meeting was arranged in a private lounge, deep within neutral territory. It wasn’t an Echelon stronghold, nor was it under the resistance’s control. A place between worlds, untouched by war, where power dictated survival more than bullets.When Leo arrived, Victor was already waiting.The old man sat comfortably in an armchair made of dark leather, his posture relaxed, fingers lightly drumming against the wooden table before him. A glass of aged whiskey rested beside him, untouched. He was unguarded, alone—completely unbothered by the fact that the man who had been hunting him for years n