The night was electric. Robin Ashwood was back, not in a press room or under a bunker. But where he truly belonged. On the pitch. A Blackgate jersey over his chest, fans screaming his name, the world no longer doubting who he was. But just as quickly as the crowds embraced him, The shadows started moving again.It was a friendly. Symbolic. Blackgate United vs. a reassembled European XI. Everyone was watching, not just because of Robin, but to see if football had truly healed.The stadium lights shone brighter than usual, and as Robin lined up at kickoff, the weight of everything, Lucien, Phantom, Obsidian, near death, rushed through him. And yet… He felt light. Until minute 34.Robin cut through midfield like a knife, fed a perfect through-pass to the striker, when something caught his eye in the stands. A flash of red. A woman standing, arms folded, cold expression behind black sunglasses. Cassie. His ex. The one who had betrayed him. The one who sold him out to Lucien for a slice of

The rain fell soft but steady over London that night. Inside Blackgate’s executive suite, Robin stood motionless as the elevator doors opened. Stacy King stepped in.Her stride was confident, her expression unreadable. She wore a cream trench coat, black heels, and an elegant calm that unsettled the entire room.Raya sat by the monitors. Layla leaned on the wall with her arms crossed. Tomas stood near the exit, armed. Stacy’s eyes flicked to each of them. Then settled on Robin. “So,” she said.“You finally read the fine print.”Robin took a slow breath. He wanted to shout. He wanted to slam the table, demand answers. Instead, he asked: “How long?”Stacy met his eyes. “Since the beginning.”Robin’s face didn’t flinch, but his knuckles whitened. “You knew about Lucien. Phantom. The Sovereign Bench. And you… just played along?”Stacy sighed, her voice softer now. “No. I was assigned to watch you. That part’s true. Obsidian wanted a psychological read. See if you could be controlled. But

The clone was still twitching. ECHO’s artificial muscles spasmed on the locker room floor, sparks hissing from his fractured neural spine. The victory was Robin’s, but what he’d uncovered from the clone’s neural core was far from comforting.He wasn’t just being copied. He was being mined. Raya ran diagnostics on the chip she pulled from ECHO’s core. The data flow wasn’t local. It streamed outward.Encrypted. Masked. Routing through dozens of servers before landing at one final terminal: OMEGA NODE.Location: Unknown.Status: Active.Robin stood over her shoulder. “Where is it?”Raya shook her head. “It’s a ghost server. No fixed location. Moves constantly. Could be run from a satellite link, mobile HQ, or even airborne tech.”Layla frowned. “Someone went to great lengths to make sure this node stays invisible.”Robin’s jaw clenched. “Then we’ll make them visible.”They studied the stream closely. Every time Robin made a move on or off the pitch it triggered data extraction. Not just

The video kept looping. The boy Omega-01 moved with the unmistakable rhythm of a trained footballer. But there was something… more. Not just precision. Not just fluidity. Pain. Real pain. Hidden behind those eyes.Raya traced the video’s metadata and ran a background scan. The IP pinged from Casablanca, Morocco. A hidden server behind layers of spoofing, encrypted relays, and black-market forums. Layla whistled. “Whoever this is, he’s smart. Doesn’t want to be found.”Robin stood. “Then we’re going to find him anyway.”Casablanca’s medina was a maze, dusty streets, shadowed markets, and narrow alleys where secrets clung to stone like moss. Robin, Layla, and Tomas arrived under cover. A contact from Robin’s playing days, Kadir, met them in a tucked-away café beneath a crumbling mosaic ceiling.Kadir poured tea as he whispered, “You’re being watched. Word spreads fast when the ghost of football shows up.”Robin leaned in. “I’m not looking for fans. I’m looking for a ghost of my own.” He

The hum of the failing power grid reverberated through the chamber like a funeral hymn. Steam hissed from ruptured valves. The scent of ozone and scorched metal filled the air. And in the center of the Omega facility’s dying core... Robin Ashwood faced Echelon-X. Not on grass. Not with rules. But on raw instinct, sheer grit, and legacy.There were no fans. No commentators. Only the pounding of two hearts. One built. One born. Echelon-X moved first, smooth, ghostlike. He side-stepped Robin’s feint, dragged the ball with the precision of a machine and snapped a shot that cracked the far wall behind Robin.Robin barely turned in time to deflect it with his thigh. Ashar shouted from the control deck. “He learns as he plays! Robin, you’ve got maybe five minutes before he fully adapts to everything you’ve ever done!”Robin wiped blood from his lip. “Then I’ll do something I’ve never done.” Robin faked a run left, but turned completely backward, something even he hadn’t practiced. X hesitate