Hot steam burst from the giant copper pipes twisting across the ceiling of the underground tunnels beneath Alexanderplatz. The low-frequency hum of the Soviet "Red Line" sounded like thousands of bees trapped inside glass tubes, its vibrations sinking deep into Leo’s bones. Leo Valdieri stood before an intersection of lead-coated cables, his narrowed eyes fixed on the analog monitor displaying steam pressure levels climbing higher and higher.“We’re almost out of time, Don,” Silas whispered as he attached magnetic explosives to the main steel pillars. “Up there, the people of Berlin are already drowning out the patrol engines. The Iron Ghost faction has lit fires at all four corners of the square.”Leo pressed a hand against the trembling concrete wall. “Let those flames burn away their fear, Silas. If we fail down here, the fire above will become nothing more than funeral pyres for all of them.”“Leo! I need cover!” Elena shouted from the main control panel at the far end of the corr

Smoke from the remnants of the battle in Alexanderplatz still hung thinly over the Berlin sky, veiling the stars that had only just become visible again after the "Red Line" was severed. Inside a private railcar pulled by an old steam locomotive, the only form of transportation unaffected by the signal chaos, Leo Valdieri sat reclined in silence. He stared at the reflection of his face in the darkened window glass. Leo Ravelli's body looked paler by the day, yet the sharpness in his eyes had surpassed the limits of ordinary humanity."Six months, Don. That's the most optimistic medical diagnosis," Silas Vane broke the silence as he placed two cups of bitter coffee on the small wooden table. "The doctors at the Iron Ghosts base said that without The Circle's medical infrastructure, treating your burned nervous system is like trying to patch a collapsing dam with your bare fingers."Leo picked up the cup, feeling the warmth seep into the palm still wrapped in bandages. "Time is the most

The shadow of Mount Vesuvius loomed like a giant watching over its own grave. Beneath the mountain’s feet, the ruins of Pompeii lay silent, filled with history frozen beneath volcanic ash. But to Leo Valdieri, this silence was the most dangerous lie of all. Beneath these cracked Roman stones, the Crimson Consistory had planted its roots for centuries, building a nexus of power that needed no satellites to rule.The black APC driven by Silas Vane slowed as it entered the dusty outskirts of Naples. This city was nothing like noisy Berlin or orderly Rome. Naples was honest chaos, a place where written law always lost to the law of blood.“Don, we’ve been tailed since we passed the harbor,” Silas whispered, his eyes flicking toward the rearview mirror. “Three scooters and an old sedan. They’re not keeping their distance. They want us to know we’re being watched.”Leo Valdieri sat in the back seat, cleaning the remaining blood from the blade hidden inside his silver cane. He did not look u

Black ash continued to fall from the skies above Pompeii, shrouding the ruins of the ancient city beneath a suffocating funeral veil. The ground beneath Leo Valdieri’s feet trembled softly, a warning from the belly of Vesuvius that history could repeat itself at any moment. In front of the Villa of the Mysteries, rows of spotlights from the black armored convoy cut through the ash-filled fog, casting terrifying silhouettes across the cracked stone pillars.Leo leaned against a marble column, his left hand pressing against the wound in his right shoulder, where warm blood still flowed steadily. The Black Mamba remained tightly gripped in his right hand, its barrel still smoking.“Silas, report their formation,” Leo ordered. His voice was hoarse, yet still carried the kind of authority capable of stopping a heartbeat.Silas Vane peered through a tactical scope from behind a ruined wall. “Six armored carriers, Don. Debt Collector units. They’re carrying the broken scale insignia. This is

The roar of the black armored carrier shattered the silence of the frozen Alpine valley. Inside the cabin, the glow from the instrument panels reflected across Leo Valdieri's increasingly gaunt face. His back, where The Crimson Consistory had implanted the forced biometric device, still burned, a constant reminder that Leo Ravelli's body was nothing more than a vessel suffering from systemic failure.Behind the wheel, Silas Vane stared straight ahead, his hands skillfully shifting gears as he navigated the deadly ice-covered curves."Don, your heartbeat is unstable," Silas said, breaking the silence. "And Elena... she's starting to question Pico again."Leo glanced at Elena sitting beside him. His sister held a revolver in her lap, her expression distant, though her ears caught every word. Since escaping Zurich, the tension between them had not only come from enemies hunting them. It came from the small mystery that had always lingered in their ears, Pico's voice."Pico," Elena said s