The applause that should have been ours still echoed against the limestone arches of the courtyard, but now it was jagged, mocking. Phones hovered like vultures, screens glowing in the dusk.Jacob Smith stayed on one knee long enough for the laughter to pierce. The velvet box in his hand felt suddenly ridiculous, like a cheap magic trick.“Get up, man,” someone muttered from the graduates’ row. A ripple of chuckles followed.Lila Moreau tilted her chin, sunlight catching the absurd sparkle of the billion-euro earrings. “Jacob,” she said, voice honeyed but knife-sharp, “I told you. We’re not the same.”He heard only the tremor beneath her calm, a vibration of…what? Triumph? Fear? It didn’t matter. The damage was done.Jacob rose slowly, knees stiff. The crowd parted as if humiliation were contagious. He closed the ring box, the snap loud as a gunshot.From the steps of the Palais des Princes, Dean Marchand tried a diplomatic smile. “Perhaps we should.”“Let it play out,” someone hiss

The lamp on the desk flickered as a bullet punched through its shade. Glass rained across Jacob’s shoulder. “Stay down,” the guard hissed, crouched behind the marble column. “Not much choice,” Jacob muttered, scanning for angles.Above, the lead intruder barked, “Hands where we can see them, Smith. No hero moves.”Jacob called back, voice steady. “You’re in my house. Maybe lower the rifles.”A sharp laugh. “Technically, it’s still your grandfather’s. Now stand up.”The guard leaned close. “Two on the right balcony, one left. They’ve got night optics. We need distraction.”Jacob’s mind ticked through possibilities, routes, sightlines, the hidden panic-room corridor. “Basement tunnel,” he whispered. “North library shelf. But we need five seconds.”The guard nodded once. A sudden crash exploded from the hallway behind them, shattering porcelain, echoing like thunder.Both intruders on the right whipped toward the noise. The guard fired twice, controlled, precise. One man screamed, rifle

The sound behind them was subtle at first, like a pebble dropped in water, yet it sliced through the silence like a blade. The guard wheeled around, pistol raised. “Show yourself!”Only darkness stretched behind them. The emergency lights pulsed red, heartbeat-quick. Jacob whispered, “Footsteps?”“Too light,” the guard said. “Someone’s ghosting us.”The hooded figure at the gate chuckled, voice still distorted. “You hear them, heir? Your blood hunts you faster than we ever could.”Jacob tightened his grip on the pistol. “Enough riddles. Who are you?”“Names are currency,” the first figure replied. “Spend yours first.”Jacob stepped closer to the gate. “You already know mine.”“True,” the second said softly. “But do you know theirs?”The guard edged forward, scanning every shadow. “They’re stalling.”Jacob’s eyes flicked to the titanium case in his jacket. The “key” seemed to weigh more with every breath.The first figure lifted a small device, a sleek obsidian disc that caught the moo

The sound was like a mountain tearing in half. Stone shuddered. Dust poured from the ceiling in choking clouds as an icy wind blasted through the tunnel, carrying the metallic scent of ozone.Jacob braced himself against the wall. The titanium case in his jacket felt heavier than iron.Victoria staggered to her knees, one arm slick with blood. “It’s opening,” she rasped. “Marcus, you idiot, you don’t know what you’ve unleashed.”Marcus stood perfectly still, eyes glittering with triumph. “I know exactly.”A low, rhythmic pulse rolled from the direction of the vault, like a giant’s heartbeat, each throb vibrating through the stone floor.The guard groaned, half-conscious. Jacob helped him upright, never taking his eyes off Marcus. “Step away from the vault,” Jacob ordered.Marcus smiled faintly. “And miss history?”Another tremor ripped through the corridor. Far ahead, a blinding white glow seeped from a newly formed crack in the rock. The air grew colder, sharper, as if the very oxyge

The black vortex churned across the alien sky, swallowing the shimmering auroras until only jagged streaks of electric blue remained. A bitter wind howled over the plain, carrying a metallic tang like blood on iron. Jacob’s pulse hammered. “What is that thing?”The silver being, Continuum, glowed brighter, as though bracing against a storm. “An echo that should not be.” Its voice wavered for the first time. “It is… rupture.”Marcus tilted his head, eyes gleaming with awe. “Another force. Another power.”A second voice rumbled from the vortex, deeper and colder, each syllable splintering the air: “I am the Root. The true origin. Choose me, heir of Smith.”Jacob staggered back. The words vibrated through his ribs like the strike of a massive drum.Continuum stepped closer, light pulsing. “Ignore the shadow. It is chaos unbound.”The Root thundered, “I am the first memory. I am what your blood remembers. Continuum is only the jailer.”Victoria tightened her grip on Jacob’s arm. “This i