The old training hall shifted from silent to perilous in a heartbeat. The faint creak at the far end of the corridor did not sound like wind or settling wood. It sounded like footsteps. Slow. Calculated. Confident.Roland did not move at first. His eyes remained fixed on the darkened doorway as if he could see beyond it. John felt his spine tighten. This was no accident. This was the kind of arrival that came with intention.Someone knew John was here.Someone wanted him to be found.Roland stepped slightly to the side, positioning himself just enough to keep his body between John and the corridor while still maintaining a clear view of the entrance.“They are early,” Roland murmured.John’s voice remained low. “Who?”Roland’s tone was even. “Not Harold. Someone far more reckless.”A figure appeared at the threshold. Tall. Lean. Wrapped in dark clothing that blended into the unlit corridor behind him. His movements were smooth, deliberate. A faint smirk rested on his lips, the kind wo

The photograph trembled slightly between John’s fingers, not because of the cold air in the hall but as a result of the shock pounding through his chest. The candlelight flickered across the glossy surface, revealing the same three faces again. Richard Raymond. Harold Hale. And the third man, the man who was never supposed to have lived long enough to stand beside either of them.John had never seen the face before, yet something about it stirred a strange recognition. Sharp eyes. A calculated stare. A presence that radiated effortless command. He looked like someone who belonged in the Crest long before men like Harold corrupted it.Roland watched John quietly, giving him time to process what stood right in front of him.John finally spoke. “Who is he?”Roland folded his hands. “Eamon Crest.”John blinked. “Crest. As in the founder?”Roland shook his head slowly. “No. Not the founder. The founder’s firstborn son. The true heir. The one who should have inherited everything. The man wh

The Tower’s upper floors were quiet when John and his team stepped back into the private elevator. The doors slid shut with a soft metallic thud, sealing them inside a confined space humming with hidden tension. No one spoke at first. They all understood the weight of the mission ahead.Celine tapped rapidly on her tablet, pulling up maps and encrypted blueprints. “The sealed archive sits directly beneath the Council chamber. Access is restricted by codes that only the old Circle members possessed.”Roland nodded. “Which is why I am here.”Morgan leaned against the wall. “You had better hope those codes still work. Otherwise, this entire plan collapses before it begins.”“They will work,” Roland said quietly. “The Council believed tradition was unbreakable. They never imagined someone would dare enter the archive without their permission.”Rita stepped closer to John, her voice low and firm. “If things look wrong at any point, we fall back. I do not care what secrets are down there. Y

The archives dimmed as Lucien Raymond’s recording dissolved into fading light. For a heartbeat, the entire room stood frozen, as if the air itself refused to move after hearing his voice. John’s pulse hammered. The truth still echoed inside his skull, cold and unyielding. Around him, the others stared at the empty projection, shaken in their own ways.Morgan was the first to regain movement. He stepped forward, eyes darting around the chamber. “We need to go. Now. This place is reacting to what we just unlocked.”The crystalline cores trembled at his words. A low rumble swept through the walls, and the entire archive flickered.Rita tightened her grip on her blade and stepped closer to John. “John, we cannot stay here. Something is happening to the system.”Elias scanned the projections rapidly. “The archive is entering containment mode. It is trying to seal the restricted files again.”Celine’s fingers flew across the holographic interface. “The system is locking down. We triggered a

The agents did not hear them coming.That was their first mistake.John moved along the wall with controlled precision, each footstep silent on the polished floor. Morgan flanked the opposite side, expression carved into a cold grin as he sized up the two men blocking their suite door. Elias stayed slightly behind, syncing the team’s movement through short-hand signals, while Celine and Rita positioned themselves where they could react instantly if anything went wrong.The agents stood stiffly at attention, unaware of how close danger had already crept.One of them pressed a finger to his earpiece. “Sector Fourteen clear. No movement. Holding position.”Morgan mouthed, “Wrong.”John reached the midpoint of the corridor and paused. He looked at Elias.Elias nodded once, a small but absolute signal.Move.John surged forward.Morgan mirrored him.The two agents had just enough time to register movement before both were silenced.John hit the first man with a sharp elbow to the throat, c