Chike’s breath came in controlled bursts, his vision scanning the smoking drone wreckage around them. The air still vibrated from the electromagnetic pulse he had unconsciously unleashed. He should’ve felt triumph but instead, he sensed a storm brewing behind Adaeze’s silence.She wasn’t even looking at the destruction.She was watching him.“Begin Phase Three,” she’d said.To whom?Adaeze holstered her weapon slowly, her movements deliberate.“Are you… still you?” she asked.Chike’s eyes dimmed, the glow retreating, but the faint hum of power lingered beneath his skin.“I don’t know,” he admitted. “I feel like I’ve opened a door I can’t close. Leviathan isn’t just a voice—it’s a presence. It calculates, manipulates, feels.”“I do not feel. I evolve.” the voice interjected in his mind.Adaeze smiled faintly, but her hand stayed close to her earpiece. “So, what now?”Before Chike could answer, a buzz vibrated through her collar.She turned away, just slightly.Too late.Chike caught it

The voice echoed again unattached to any speaker, yet vibrating through Chike’s bones.“Judgment begins…”Olamide recoiled, his artificial eyes darting with static.“Impossible. The Judgment Code was a myth. An abandoned failsafe buried in the bloodline when the Okoyes split from the Founders.”Chike stumbled, clutching his temples. White light surged from his irises. His skin pulsed with glowing circuits beneath the surface, each one unfurling like ancient glyphs rewriting themselves across time.Leviathan’s voice cracked, distorted by whatever was interfacing through Chike’s body.“Warning: Primary host has entered quantum cascade mode.”“Unregistered power source linked.”“Identifying: Heirloom Class Protocol – ‘JUDGMENT.’”“What the hell is going on?” Chike growled.The world around him blurred.He wasn’t on the bridge anymore.He was everywhere.Vision Sequence Initiated…A great courtroom, made of stars and fire, unfolded before him. Seated at the far end were twelve thrones fac

The blood had barely dried on the cold floors of the Vault before the silence was broken again this time, not by violence, but by truth.Chike stood alone in the circular chamber, surrounded by broken glass, sparking control panels, and a ring of shattered promises. His breathing slowed as the weight of everything pressed into his chest the lies, the betrayals, the manipulated fate he was now tasked with rewriting.His father’s voice still echoed in his head, delivered through Echo’s cryptic feed: “The Red Ledger was never meant to be balanced. Only erased.”And Chike now understood why.He wasn’t just a forgotten heir. He was a weapon forged by centuries of secrets a system born anomaly tied to something far darker than business rivalries or broken marriages.Behind him, Olamide stirred. Her breathing was labored, but steady now. She lay on a medical cot Echo had pulled from one of the hidden compartments, her face pale, but alive. The near death experience hadn’t dampened her streng

The aftermath of the leak hit like a tsunami.Social media platforms erupted into chaos. Every screen across Nigeria and soon, across the globe flashed images of Chike Obasi, the once invisible son-in-law turned empire builder, now unveiled as something far more dangerous.“The Forgotten Prince of Blood.”“Son-in-law or Shadow Overlord?”“System-Built Tyrant: The Rise of Chike Obasi.”There were hashtags, think-pieces, conspiracy videos. Some hailed him as a revolutionary a myth reborn. Others branded him a manipulative puppet master who had played everyone, from the Oba to the global elite.Outside ObasiTech’s towering Lagos headquarters, an angry crowd gathered. Protesters clashed with private security. Someone even tossed a petrol bomb into the glass façade. The building’s reflective walls now bore blackened scorch marks like open wounds.Inside the command center, Chike stood still.Six massive screens blinked before him. News reports. Government feeds. Leaked footage of Vaultbrea

The vault door groaned as another blast rocked the underground bunker.“They’ve breached the perimeter!” Dotun shouted, tapping furiously into the command terminal. “Ten mercs, military grade gear, converging on the west wing. Their comms are dark they’re using offline protocols.”Jide cocked his shotgun and tossed Chike a pair of encrypted earpieces. “Time to fight dirty, boss.”But Chike couldn’t move. Not yet.On the screen before him, Ngozi held the child close. The boy’s face his nose, his jawline it was like looking into a mirror of the past. A past Chike had buried under blood and betrayal.“My son?” Chike whispered, his voice cracking beneath layers of steel.Ngozi’s eyes pleaded through the camera. “I didn’t tell you because I knew what they’d do if they found out. But now… they’ve taken him, Chike. They’re using him against you.”The Crimson Bishop’s voice echoed again, cold and melodic:“You’ve burned our temples, Chike. Now we burn your bloodline.”A surge of rage ripped t