The rain had a bitter sting that night, sharp like the laughter behind him. Robert Elba stood frozen outside the rusting gates of Orton Tech, his cardboard box of personal belongings soaked and sagging in his arms.Computer mouse. Half-dead cactus. A mug that read: “World’s Okayest Developer.” All dumped into the box like garbage. Like him.“Don’t take it personally,” Jason Ford, the CEO, had said with a shit-eating grin. “We’re trimming the fat. You were dead weight, Rob.”Then came the coins, He hadn’t seen them coming until they clinked around his shoes, loose change thrown from Jason’s palm like he was tipping a street performer.“A little something for your troubles,” Jason had said, loud enough for the whole office to hear. The marketing interns snorted with laughter. HR didn’t even look up.Robert didn’t bend to pick them up, Not until they were gone, Now he stood in the rain, staring at the small pool of coins that glittered like mockery in the streetlight. His fingers twitche

The invitation came sealed in gold foil. Elegant. Minimal. Expensive without trying. You are cordially invited to the Kingsbridge Midnight Gala. Black tie. No press. No limits.Robert held it between his fingers like it might burn him. It wasn’t just a party, it was an initiation. A test. A place where kings of industry whispered over caviar and billion-dollar mergers were made in a nod.“Do I have to go?” he asked, turning to Thomas.The advisor straightened his tie. “Yes.”“Because?”“Because the people who rule the world will be watching. Some to greet you. Some to gut you.”Robert gave a dry chuckle. “Comforting.”Two hours later, he stood in front of a mirror in a custom Armani tuxedo, the fabric cold and smooth against his skin. The suit wasn’t tailored to fit him, it was designed to define him.“Sir,” Thomas said, stepping forward with a silver cufflink case. “These belonged to your father. Pure obsidian. Engraved with the Elba seal.”Robert fastened them slowly, staring at his

The rain returned that night, hard, fast, relentless, But Robert didn’t flinch as it pelted the windows.He stood shirtless in his private gym, gloves on, fists pounding the heavy bag with a rhythm sharper than gunfire.Each strike echoed his thoughts, Jason Ford, Vanessa Shaw, Derrick Wolfe, The man in the cage. The bullet in the box. The war had begun. And he was done waiting. At dawn, a secure alert buzzed across the penthouse’s private server.Target Identified: “Echo Facility.”Alias: The Black Gate.Owner: Undisclosed. Location: 14 miles outside city limits.Function: Extraction, Surveillance, Disposal.Robert sat in front of the screen, jaw tense. The note was signed: "Courtesy of C. Let’s play."A digital map pulsed, highlighting a facility behind electric fences and buried in forested hills, Robert looked at Thomas. “Get the SUV. We’re going hunting.”By noon, Robert stood at the edge of the woods, black tactical coat pulled tight, eyes locked on the distant outline of steel

The silence in the penthouse was heavy, Robert watched Malcolm from the balcony, the glass door between them like a barrier he didn’t know had been there until now.Malcolm stood with a calm certainty, sipping his drink, unaware of the storm coiling behind Robert’s eyes.A traitor.The man who’d taught him to shoot. Who held his shoulder the day they buried his mother. Who said, “Your father trusted you. Now I do too.”And he’d been leaking every move behind Robert’s back, Robert stepped inside, Malcolm looked up and smiled faintly. “Couldn’t sleep either?”“No.”“Rain always wakes me up,” Malcolm said, setting down his cup. “Guess I’ve been doing this job too long. Always feel like it means something’s coming.”Robert’s lips barely moved. “It is.”Twenty minutes later, Elena arrived without a word, her coat dripping from the storm, Thomas followed behind her with a briefcase and a cold expression. The penthouse study became a war room.Robert stood at the center. Calm. Focused. His v

The words echoed in Robert’s head like a distant gunshot: “They’re after the last thing your father protected. Something called, The Zero Protocol.”He stood motionless by Vanessa’s bedside, rain crackling softly against the window. She had fallen unconscious again, exhausted, fragile. But the bomb she’d dropped didn’t fade with her breath.Robert turned to Thomas. “Have you ever heard of it?”Thomas’s eyes darkened. “No. But anything your father went to that much trouble to hide… it won’t be in the official files.”“Then find the unofficial ones.”Thomas nodded and left the room with urgency, Back at the penthouse, the storm hadn’t let up, Elena Blake arrived soaked and fuming, clutching a USB drive like a loaded gun. She slammed it onto the coffee table. “This just came in from our deep net operatives,” she said.Robert picked up the drive and slotted it into the encrypted tablet. A secure file opened. One document only.PROJECT: ZERO PROTOCOLStatus: DormantAuthorization: Robert E