The night New York’s skyline burned with stormlight, the boardroom at Vonn Enterprises gleamed like a stage. Chrome. Glass. A thousand-dollar silence.At the head of the long table sat Celeste Vonn, her posture carved from marble, her eyes cool and steady over the glow of her tablet. Around her, the board murmured, lawyers, strategists, investors, every one of them watching the door.Then it opened. Dickson Ford walked in, calm as a shadow. No introduction, no hesitation. His suit was sharp but wrong somehow, too clean, too still. A soldier’s posture wrapped in corporate polish.Celeste didn’t look up at first. “You’re late,” she said, voice smooth as steel wire.“Traffic,” he replied. No apology. Just two syllables, level, almost bored.Her eyes lifted, ice meeting fire. “We don’t tolerate tardiness here, Mr. Ford. Especially from employees we didn’t request.”“I’m not an employee,” he said. “I’m your new security advisor. You requested me the moment your last one resigned mid-shift.

A phone buzzed on the counter. Celeste walked over and picked it up, scanning the screen. Her assistant had texted a single image, a still frame from the lobby’s camera feed.A man standing behind the security cordon earlier that morning, watching her car. The same face appeared in another photo from years ago, her father’s funeral.Her stomach dropped, She showed the phone to Dickson. “Recognize him?”He froze, that one second of hesitation was enough.“You do,” she said quietly. “You know him.”Dickson’s eyes lifted, calm again. “No.” but his heartbeat, she could almost hear it.“You’re lying.”“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he said, turning toward the door.“Don’t walk away from me.”He stopped, back to her, shoulders tense, she stepped closer. “Who are you really, Dickson Ford?”When he turned, his face was unreadable, but his voice carried something dark, something that wasn’t denial.“Someone your father once tried to destroy.”The words landed like a blow. She didn’t move. Didn’

The shot tore through his sleeve, sending him stumbling back with a snarl. He dropped the pretense, lunged, grabbed her wrist, slammed her against the desk.The laptop slid off, shattering on impact. The screen blinked once, then died.“Who sent you?” she gasped, struggling against his grip.He leaned close, his breath cold. “Same people who sent your assistant. Only, I don’t miss.”She drove her knee upward, hard. He grunted, loosened his grip just enough for her to twist free and grab the letter opener from the desk. One swing, a slice across his forearm. He cursed, backing off.Then the building lights went black, darkness swallowed them both. She heard him moving, the scrape of a shoe, the metallic click of a weapon.Celeste ducked behind the couch, heartbeat hammering in her ears. Lightning flared outside, briefly outlining him near the door. Then another flash, behind him this time, a gun pressed against the back of his head.“Drop it,” a low voice said.The man froze, celeste k

Dickson wiped a layer of frost from the glass. A nameplate appeared beneath the condensation.SUBJECT: CAPTAIN E. RAYNOR. STATUS: PRESERVED.His breath caught. “Raynor…”Celeste looked at him. “You know him?”“He was my commanding officer.”Shock rippled through her. “Your father kept him down here?”Dickson stared at the pod, voice low. “We thought he was dead. All of us.”The man inside stirred weakly, mouth forming a word, Run, before Celeste could react, the lights overhead flared white. The entire vault came alive, machines whirring to life, monitors switching from static to synchronized feeds.On every screen, a message appeared, “Unauthorized access detected. Lockdown sequence initiated.”Dickson grabbed Celeste’s arm. “Move!”The gate behind them slammed shut. A siren blared, low and mechanical. A metallic voice filled the air, “Containment protocol active.”A section of the floor split open, mechanical turrets rising like claws. Celeste fired first, sparks burst from the nea

Sloan didn’t flinch. “It’s begun.”Celeste shouted over the rising alarm. “What did you do?”“I didn’t do anything,” he said. “She did.”They turned toward the pod.The woman, Celeste’s mirror, opened her eyes.Dickson raised his weapon instantly. “Don’t move.”The clone’s gaze fixed on Celeste, calm and detached. Then, softly, she spoke.“Termination sequence initialized.”Every console lit up at once, code streaming across the glass in perfect sync. Celeste ran to the control panel, typing frantically. “She’s rewriting the vault systems!”“Meaning?” Dickson demanded.“She’s targeting the whole building, if she finishes this, the tower will”The lights exploded into blinding white. Sloan’s voice cut through the chaos, half laugh, half gasp. “This is what he wanted! A new order, no weakness”Dickson grabbed Celeste’s arm, dragging her toward the exit. “Now!”Behind them, the pod cracked. The clone stepped out, water pouring off her like rain. Her movements were smooth, mechanical grac