At the Mojave Black Site 48 hours later, the wind howled outside the abandoned compound, tearing through rusted fences and snapping dead shrubs like brittle bones. The sandstorm was settling, but the air remained with the scent of metal and old oil. Inside, Caspian and Benedict moved through the dim corridor, weapons drawn, helmets linked to Luna’s directives. The mission brief was clear: it was to retrieve an exiled engineer named Declan Myles, once Victor Raithe’s chief coder, now presumed rogue. The man knew how to dismantle Raithe’s network from within, if truly he was alive. But they had to go in there, with no backup, no drones, just them. Of course if there were back ups they probably would have been shot dead upon arrival. So this mission required them to go in silence and not alert their enemies that they were there. “Clear right,” Benedict muttered, checking the corner. “Left’s empty,” Caspian replied, eyes sweeping the shadows. But there was silence, for simp

Inside the Neural Core in Luna’s Mind, the world around her dissolved. She stood alone in a void of shadows, her thoughts twisted and echoed. A mirror formed in front of her, her very own reflection was smiling back with Raithe’s eyes. “You never truly led,” the reflection whispered. “You survived and that’s different.” Luna clenched her fists. “You don’t get to erase me and turn me into a monster!” “But I already have,” the reflection said. “Every time you hesitated, every time you doubted, every time you fought and got angry, that was me.” Suddenly, a hand grabbed her shoulder, it was Caspian, not in body, but as a data echo. His image flickered beside her. “You’re not alone, Luna. You never were, don't give in to it.” Another light came up and it was Benedict, he was calm and resolute, he said; “We’ve got you, and we will find the core and take it out.” The reflection screamed and shattered like glass before them because the Revenant had yanked the wires back. There w

A young, handsome man stepped through the sliding doors of the airport, wheeling his single piece of luggage behind him. His glasses caught the overhead lights, casting a brief reflection across his sharp features. There was purpose in every stride controlled, deliberate. He was home.And he wasn't here for rest. For years, a single mystery had haunted the back of his mind. One that refused to be buried beneath all the accolades he'd received. As a detective, he'd solved countless cases, earned a reputation as one of the best. People came to him when no one else could crack the truth. But none of those triumphs mattered, because the one puzzle that truly consumed him the one that orbited his own life remained stubbornly unsolved. By the time he reached his apartment, he barely managed to drop his luggage before collapsing onto the couch. He rubbed his temples, the same questions echoing louder now that he was back, something wasn't right. He'd always believed that p

After what felt like an eternity, Janelle finally arrived. She walked into Killian's office without knocking and sat down without waiting for permission. He raised an eyebrow. "You're late." Janelle frowned. "Excuse me?" He didn't look up from the file he was pretending to be absorbed in. "You said you'd be back early." "I don't recall you giving me a time." She shot back, arms crossed. Killian didn't argue, he just closed the file with a soft thud. "Whatever. Did you bring the house keys?" She blinked. "You found something in the files?" "Not much, but I want to see the place where it happened. Your home." he added. Janelle shook her head. "That wasn't my home. Just a property my mom lived in. I haven't lived there since it happened." "Fine." He said, standing. "Take me there." With a sigh, she stood too, grabbing her bag from beside the chair. "Alright." "We'll use my car." Killian added, already walking past her."Oh… okay," she muttered, caught slightly

Janelle took a deep breath, steadying herself before she began. "That day, I decided to visit my mom. It had been a week since I saw her. And even though I liked the new apartment Dad got me… I just wanted to come home. To her." Killian's brow lifted. "Wait. Your father is still alive?" "Yes. Why?" she asked, puzzled. "That makes him a suspect." Janelle's eyes narrowed slightly. "Why?" "This is a murder case, Miss Thorn. Try to keep an open mind." "You can call me Janelle." She said, her tone softer. He blinked, slightly taken aback. "Huh?" "You're too cold and quite impassive." She added with a light chuckle. "Whatever." he muttered. "Let's get back to the story." "I saw Mrs. Lorin." "Who's that?" He asked. "My mom's housekeeper." Janelle replied. "She's also a suspect." "What? Why?" "Just keep talking. Don't ask why someone’s a suspect, for now." Killian said, leaning forward slightly, "In cases like this, no one is innocent until they're proven to be."Janelle