​Early the next morning, weak sunlight filtered through the massive penthouse windows. Roman's eyes snapped open. He was lying on the expensive leather couch in his main sitting room, having collapsed there from sheer exhaustion. Instantly, his mind re-engaged with the crisis. He pushed himself off the cushions, straightened his dark shirt, and marched purposefully down the polished hallway toward the medical lab.​Just as his hand reached the door handle, Asael emerged from one of the adjacent guest rooms, looking equally drained. Roman didn't wait for her; he pushed the lab door open and stepped inside.​Todd was standing in the exact same position beside the hospital bed, a dark sentinel watching over James. The monitors beeped with a slow, fragile rhythm. James’s eyes remained completely sealed shut, his chest rising in shallow, painful increments.​Hearing the door click, Todd looked back instantly, his gaze sharp and accusatory.​“He hasn’t even blinked his eyes, Roman. Is he go

​“James... Son of John,” Master Zhang repeated, the words leaving his lips like a solemn vow. His piercing gaze remained anchored to Todd, but inside the deep chambers of his mind, the present vanished, swallowed by the fog of a memory from twenty years ago.​He remembered the brutal, freezing winds of the jagged northern mountains. He remembered the heavy scent of snow and ancient stone, and the blood on John’s hands. They had been a team of four back then, venturing into the abyss to locate the cosmic artifacts. He remembered the desperation in John’s voice, the raw fear of a father who knew his time was running short, grabbing Zhang by the shoulders.​“Zhang, promise me,” John had gasped, his chest heaving as the darkness of the mountains threatened to consume them. “If anything happens to me out here... promise me you will take care of my boy, James. Look after him. Protect Tidder, and my wife, Clara.”​“No,” Zhang had replied fiercely, his younger self refusing to accept the grim

​“How…”​The single syllable drifted from Gage’s lips, so quiet it was barely a whisper, yet it seemed to chill the very air inside the vault.​For the first time in years, a shadow of genuine confusion flickered across Gage's otherwise frozen features. He stared down into the open stone coffin of his mother, Clara. By all laws of nature, her body should have been reduced to dust and bone decades ago. Instead, her flesh remained perfectly preserved, untouched by the rot of time, as though she were merely sleeping.​Slowly, Gage raised his right hand, his gloved fingers hovering just above her face. But he froze. Only a few inches of cold air separated his fingertips from her skin.​Something deep inside his subconscious refused to let him make contact.​His hand trembled, a movement so imperceptible that anyone else would have missed it, before his fingers slowly curled back into a tight, rigid fist. He drew his arm back to his side.​Without uttering another word, Gage rose to his fu

“Okay,” Agni’s voice crackled through the encrypted speaker, completely steady. “What do you need me to do?”“I need you to intercept the coordinates I am transmitting to your private server right now,” Lyssa ordered, her fingers flying across her wrist-mounted device as she uploaded the digital location.“Received,” Agni replied after a brief pause.“When you arrive at those coordinates, ask for Master Zhang immediately,” Lyssa instructed, her tone sharp and precise over the roar of the wind. “Tell him I sent you directly to deliver an emergency warning.”Agni remained silent on the other end, listening intently.“Inform him that Gage is riding toward the sanctuary at extreme speed,” Lyssa continued. “He believes Roman is there, and he’s coming there to find him and take the Ages Book from him.”Lyssa swung her leg over the saddle of her high-output motorcycle, planting one gloved hand firmly on the handlebar.“Listen to me very carefully, Agni. Tell Master Zhang that he must surrend

"Drop the phone. Now.”​The assassin's voice was a flat, raspy rasp in the quiet hotel room, his suppressed pistol still jammed hard against Nancy’s forehead.​Maya froze, her eyes locked on Nancy’s pale, trembling face. Eight hundred miles away, Master Zhang’s frantic voice bled through the speaker of the dropped device on the carpet. “Maya! Maya? Speak to me! Maya!”​Maya’s throat seized. She couldn't draw air to scream. Slowly, her shaking hand opened, and her phone tumbled from her fingers, landing silently on the rug. The connection cut out with a sharp click.​Back inside the mountain sanctuary, Master Zhang stared at his silent phone, his absolute composure collapsing into sheer terror. “What is happening to her?” he demanded, his voice cracking with emotion as he turned to face Gage. “What have you done to my daughter?!”​Gage did not blink. He slowly raised his right hand, revealing a compact digital timer resting in his gloved palm. The screen glowed faint red: 10.​Gage pre