Chapter 2 – The First Task The rain hadn’t stopped since the gala ended. It fell in fine silver threads, coating the streets and washing the night in a steady rhythm. Liam stood under the awning of the hotel, motionless, his black suit clinging to his shoulders. The noise of laughter and music from hours ago had vanished, leaving only the sound of the city breathing. He should have felt humiliated. Instead, there was only stillness. Inside his mind, the voice returned—quiet, calm, almost human. > “Liam Grey.” His pupils narrowed slightly. He didn’t speak aloud. > “You have been recognized as a potential candidate for the World Reset Program.” The words echoed as if spoken from behind glass. Liam glanced toward the street—no one there. Potential candidate? he thought. For what? > “The program evaluates individuals whose lives have reached an irreversible threshold. You qualify.” His brow furrowed, just slightly. “And if I refuse?” > “Refusal is accepted. The program will mov

CHAPTER 4 — THE WARNING The night air was thick, resting over the city like a velvet curtain. Neon lights bled through the drizzle, painting reflections on the pavement. From the outside, nothing about the quiet apartment on 12th Avenue seemed unusual — but inside, every shadow held a question. Liam Hunt sat on the couch, sleeves rolled up, staring at the encrypted message still glowing faintly on his phone. > Unknown: You shouldn’t be in the building today, Mr. Hunt. They’re watching. Unknown: Consider this your only warning. The message had no timestamp. No number. No trace. He turned the phone over, as if studying the shape of the warning itself. Whoever sent it wasn’t just cautious — they were trained. He placed the phone beside him and leaned back, exhaling slowly. The city hummed beyond the glass, indifferent and distant. The System’s faint hum came next, the tone soft and clinical: > [Equation Update: Variable “Threat Input” — Registered. Probability Path recalibrating

Chapter 6 – Crossed Paths The Hunt estate was built to silence emotion. Every corridor gleamed with power — polished marble, tall mirrors, and chandeliers that reflected nothing but the cold perfection of its owners. The scent of cedar and old money lingered in the air, masking the faint trace of fear that always came with living among predators. Liam Hunt moved through the hall like a shadow, every step calculated, every glance unreadable. To most of the world, he was the ideal heir — calm, efficient, ruthless when necessary. But beneath the quiet rhythm of his footsteps, something had begun to fracture. He stopped before a wall-sized portrait of the Hunt family. In the painting, Emma stood beside him, her smile faint but real — the only warmth in the entire frame. His gaze lingered on her eyes, painted in shades of gold and gray. The artist had caught the spark in them, the one that never learned to bow to power. “Still staring at ghosts?” The voice came from behind him — smoo

Chapter 8 – Echoes at the Dinner Table The Hunt mansion shimmered beneath golden lights, its marble pillars dressed in velvet and silver. Every chandelier was lit, every glass polished to perfection. From the outside, it looked like a celebration of wealth and harmony — but to Liam Hunt, it was a performance drenched in lies. He adjusted the cuffs of his black suit as he entered the banquet hall. The press cameras flashed, and guests turned to admire the family’s stoic son-in-law, the man whose expression never cracked. Damian stood near the head table, greeting the executives and diplomats who had come to celebrate the Hunts’ “New Partnership Initiative.” The name itself was a farce; Liam knew it was a cover. His gaze swept the room with military precision. Every table had its assigned guests — investors, tech representatives, a few politicians. But Liam wasn’t there to play the host. He was there for the Hunt system’s latest integration presentation, a digital showcase rumored to

Chapter 10 – Fragments of Her Voice The city never truly slept, but the hour between midnight and dawn had its own silence — heavy, watchful, and secretive. Liam’s car sliced through the rain-slick streets, engine humming softly beneath the storm’s rhythm. He drove without headlights for most of the way, the route imprinted in his mind long ago. When he finally stopped, it wasn’t in the city’s wealthy districts or the Hunt estate’s glass towers. He parked in an alley, between two abandoned warehouses. The building ahead looked forgotten, its walls draped in vines and grime, its windows opaque with dust. To anyone else, it was another ruin swallowed by the city. To Liam, it was home base — the only place untouched by Hunt surveillance. He keyed in a code on the steel side door, and the biometric scanner hummed before clicking open. Inside, the space was dim, lined with old computer rigs and data servers stacked like tombstones. Blue light spilled from the monitors, casting long shad