The Atlantic Ocean at midnight was a bottomless black abyss. Towering waves, five meters high, slammed against the hull of the stealth C-17 cargo aircraft flying low, only a few dozen meters above the water to evade long-range radar sweeps. Inside the dim cabin, washed in red light, the atmosphere felt static, filled only by the drone of jet engines and the creak of chains securing tactical equipment.Vittorio Valdieri stood at the center of the cabin, clad in a pitch-black tactical dive suit layered with a lightweight Kevlar vest. At his waist, The Black Mamba rested in a waterproof holster. His face was still pale, but his gaze was as sharp as a freshly honed blade."Don, we are in a satellite blind zone for the next ninety seconds," Silas reported as he checked the oxygen valves on his diving tank. "If we do not jump now, The Leviathan’s radar will catch the heat signature of this aircraft."Vittorio turned toward Pico, who sat before a row of portable monitors. "Pico, status of th

The steel floor of The Leviathan groaned, a hoarse, tortured sound that signaled the carrier’s structure could no longer withstand the seawater forcing its way into the lower decks. Inside the main chamber, now tilted at a thirty-degree angle, smoke from the exploded Omega console shrouded two men who shared the same face.Vittorio Valdieri staggered, one hand pressing against the gunshot wound in the left side of Leo Ravelli’s body. Warm blood seeped between his gloved fingers. Across from him, the Sovereign, the original Vittorio, slumped on his now-tilted golden throne. A small hole in the center of his chest spilled dark, aged blood beneath the flickering red emergency lights.“You shot yourself, Vittorio,” the Sovereign coughed, flecks of crimson staining his wrinkled lips.“I didn’t shoot myself,” Vittorio replied, his voice hoarse but steady. He leaned back against a marble wall that had begun to crack. “I shot the monster who stole my name for fifty years. You are not me. I am

The Palermo docks at night were a forest of steel that never slept, a labyrinth of massive containers swallowing the glow of mercury lamps and exhaling the stench of diesel and rotting fish. In Sector 12, a zone that was supposed to be The Circle’s exclusive economic territory, dozens of colossal cargo ships sat moored beneath faded silver serpent emblems. Since the fall of Zenith Tower, the port’s management had collapsed into a dangerous vacuum, one that armed opportunists were already rushing to fill.Leo Valdieri stood atop a rusted observation platform, gazing down at the line of trucks snaking below. His gray coat billowed, concealing a body that now felt stronger, hardened by the brutal physical regimen forced upon him during the sea voyage.“Look at them, Silas,” Leo said, his voice low yet razor sharp. “They move like ants that have lost their queen. Panicked, but still greedy.”Silas Vane stood beside him with a sniper rifle slung over his shoulder, spitting to the side. “Th

The storm over Palermo was no longer just weather. It was a curtain of death, separating Leo Valdieri from his freedom. The red laser lights from ten Seraphim Inquisitors pierced through the falling rain, forming a web of light that locked onto every vital point in Leo’s body. At their center stood Sofia Valdieri, poised with the grace of a wounded war goddess, her half-scarred face giving her the aura of a monster driven by vengeance."Look at yourself, Uncle," Sofia stepped forward, her boots pressing into pools of blood not yet washed away by the rain. "You stand there, holding an old pistol in an age of machine angels. Do you feel heroic? Or have you finally realized that you are nothing more than a ghost who forgot the way home?"Leo Valdieri remained calm, though the breath in Leo Ravelli’s body was growing heavier. He glanced at Silas and Elena from the corner of his eye. Silas had his hand on the pin of a grenade tucked behind his belt, while Elena gripped her decryption unit

The stone walls of the underground tunnel trembled as the echo of the ammonia explosion from Pietro’s shop rippled through the ancient foundations of Trastevere. The air in the narrow passage felt thick, heavy with the scent of damp earth and decaying history. Leo Valdieri led the way, his steps now in rhythm with the steady heartbeat of Leo Ravelli’s body, as if the two entities sharing it had reached a truce for a single purpose, the destruction of their enemies."How much farther, Pietro?" Leo asked without turning. His hand remained wrapped around The Black Mamba, fingers ready on the trigger."Just ahead, Don," Pietro panted, clutching his chest as his breathing grew labored. "There is a spiral staircase leading behind the altar of Santa Maria Church. This passage has not been used since the German occupation.""Leo, I have access to Quirinal’s cameras!" Elena exclaimed, staring at her tablet glowing sharply blue in the darkness. "Sofia is in the sterilization chamber. She handed