The operations wing of the Griffin Empire never slept. Rows of screens lit up the dim room in a cold blue glow, filled with data moving faster than the eye could follow. Men sat in silence, their fingers moving across keyboards with quiet precision. They were searching through layers of encrypted information, hunting for something that didn't want to be found.For a long time, the only sound was the light tapping of keys. Then, one of the technicians spoke up without even raising his voice.“Sir… we might have something.”An operative stepped over to the station. “Confirm it.”The technician nodded, his eyes locked on the shifting lines of data as he isolated a specific point. “It’s a transfer routed through a bunch of ghost accounts. It’s the same signature we flagged a week ago.”The second man leaned in, his expression hardening. “That one disappeared.”“It did,” the tech replied. “But it’s back. It just surfaced again.”On the screen, a pattern started to emerge— clean, deliberat

The ocean was a flat, endless sheet of black, reflecting a moon that was nothing more than a cold, distant sliver, the water looked like oil. There were no ships on the horizon, no lights from the coast, and no sound. Just a dead, heavy silence.Then, the air started to tremble.It started as a low hum you felt in your teeth before you heard it. A second later, the rhythmic thumping of rotor blades cut through the dark. One, then two, then a whole line of them. They were sleek, black, and moved with a kind of mechanical precision that felt unnatural. They kept their lights off, trying to stay invisible, but there was nothing subtle about the way they dominated the sky.Inside the lead chopper, nobody was talking. The men sat in two rows, geared up for a war they’d been waiting for. In the center of the cabin, Jack wasn't sitting down. He stood with one hand gripping a ceiling rail, his body absorbing the vibration of the engine without a flinch. He stared out the darkened glass, his

The academy had always been a noisy place. It was the kind of building where voices layered over each other, laughter bounced off the walls, and you could always hear the constant rush of footsteps on the polished floors. It thrived on that loud energy— everyone wanting to be seen and everyone wanting attention.But this morning, things felt different.It wasn't exactly silent, but it was controlled. Students were still talking and moving in their usual circles, but underneath it all, there was a strange tension. It was a subtle feeling that the air in the building had shifted.And right at the center of it was Marcus.He walked through the main entrance just like he always did. He maintained the same pace, the same posture, and that same calm look on his face. But the world around him was reacting differently now.People moved. They didn't make a big scene out of it, but they stepped aside. Conversations paused mid sentence. Eyes lingered on him a second too long before quickly look

The lecturer arrived a few moments later, and the lecture ended as if nothing had even happened. There were no big reactions or dramatic exits, it was just the usual sound of books closing, chairs scraping the floor, and students stretching because they were bored. But even though it looked normal, everyone knew it wasn't.Marcus stayed in his seat for a minute after the professor left. He kept glancing over at Freya, but she hadn't said a single word to him since she walked in. She didn't even look his way. She just sat there staring at nothing, like her mind was miles away from that classroom. Marcus watched her for a second longer before deciding she probably just needed some space.Beside him, Emmanuel was leaning back, still looking like he was trying to process the night before. "Man..." he muttered, shaking his head. "I'm still trying to wrap my head around everything."Marcus didn't say anything at first, so Emmanuel turned to him with his eyes wide. "Do you even realize w

The hallway remained quiet. Nobody spoke, and nobody even shifted their weight. Every single eye hidden in the corridor was locked on the last man standing— the one with the orange hair.For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, he moved.It wasn’t normal fast. It was wrong fast. His body blurred forward so quickly that for a split second, faint streaks trailed behind him— thin, flickering orange lines in the air that looked like heat waves mixed with static electricity.Then the first hit landed.BANG.Zane’s head tilted slightly to the side from the force. A second hit came instantly.BANG.Then a third. BANG. BANG. BANG. The sound started stacking on itself, echoing violently through the hallway as the orange haired man circled him like a cyclone. He was striking from every possible angle— ribs, shoulder, side, back.To the students watching, it didn’t even look like a person moving anymore. It looked like Zane was being attacked by something invisible. Only the orange flashes gave