Night fell hard and fast, as if the sky itself had decided there would be no gentle transition. One moment the horizon still held the ghost of dusk, and the next Rotterdam was wrapped in darkness, city lights reflecting off wet pavement like fractured constellations.By the time they returned to the safehouse, Elise could feel the delayed weight of everything she had been holding back finally pressing into her bones. Not the clean exhaustion that came after honest work, but the deeper kind—the kind that settled into your chest and stayed there, heavy and insistent, reminding you that the danger wasn’t finished just because you’d survived another day.Lukas was the last one inside. He locked the door, then stood there longer than necessary, his hand still on the frame, listening. Elise watched him from across the room, recognizing the stillness for what it was. He wasn’t resting. He was counting threats, mapping angles, listening for footsteps that might never come.When he finally tur

The morning of the hearing arrived without ceremony.No sirens. No breaking news banners. Just a gray sky stretched thin over the city and a sense of pressure that refused to lift. Elise stood in the bathroom of the safehouse, tying her hair back with steady hands, studying her reflection as if she were preparing to meet a stranger.She looked composed. That was the strange part.Inside, everything felt taut, coiled, ready to snap if she allowed herself to think too long about what was at stake. Not just her work. Not just her reputation. But the future of systems she had spent years building to protect people who would never know her name.She straightened her shoulders and stepped out.Lukas was already dressed, jacket buttoned, posture calm but alert. He glanced up as she entered the room, his gaze softening in a way that made her chest tighten.“You ready?” he asked.She nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”Margot stood near the table, scrolling rapidly through her tablet. “Public observer

Morning arrived with a brittle kind of clarity.The city looked scrubbed clean after the night rain, streets shining faintly beneath the early light, as if nothing ugly had ever touched them. Elise stood by the kitchen window, arms folded loosely, watching Rotterdam wake up. Cyclists passed. Trams hummed. Somewhere nearby, a café opened its doors.Normal life, proceeding without pause.Behind her, the house was already awake. Not loudly, not chaotically, but with the quiet precision of people who understood that timing mattered now more than force.Margot spoke in low tones near the dining table, coordinating verification channels with Sofia. Lukas sat at the counter, jacket on, coffee untouched, scrolling through transcripts with a focus that bordered on severe. No one rushed Elise. No one asked her what she wanted to do next.They all knew.Elise turned from the window. “Is it confirmed?”Margot looked up. Her expression was controlled, but there was something sharpened beneath it.

The morning sun cut through the thin veil of fog over Rotterdam, casting pale gold across wet rooftops and cobblestone streets. Elise stood at the edge of the terrace, her coat wrapped tightly around her, breath visible in the crisp air. She didn’t need to look at the city below to know that life carried on as if nothing had happened. And yet, she felt the weight of everything that had—Berg’s schemes, Otto’s recklessness, the precarious containment of the genetic key—pressing against her chest like a physical weight.Behind her, the house was stirring. Lukas moved quietly in the kitchen, preparing two coffees without turning on unnecessary lights. Margot sat at the dining table, reviewing encrypted data streams on her tablet, every finger movement precise, measured, controlled. And Elise realized, with a quiet satisfaction, that the house had become a nerve center—not just for them, but for the truth itself.“Morning,” Lukas said softly, setting a cup down in front of her. His eyes we

The early morning fog hung low over Rotterdam, weaving through the skeletal remains of cranes and empty docks, giving the city a ghostly, otherworldly feel. Elise moved through the lab quietly, her footsteps muted against the polished floors. The genetic key remained secure inside its reinforced containment unit, but the calm was fragile, like glass balanced on a knife’s edge. Every second they delayed action allowed Berg to recalibrate, to adapt, to strike again.Lukas joined her at the observation window, arms crossed, eyes scanning the distant silhouettes of the city. “She’s out there,” he said quietly, not as a warning but as a matter of fact. “Planning. Watching. Waiting for the smallest weakness.”Elise didn’t answer immediately. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass, letting the cold steel of the window remind her that she had a grip on something solid, something real. “Then we make the first move,” she said, finally turning to him. “We don’t wait for her to decide th