2025-05-16 21:02:57
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Ch-51
The corridor smelled like dust and static, humming low with electricity beneath the walls. Harper moved quietly, her bare feet pressing against the cold metal floor. Her breath came in slow, controlled bursts. She couldn't afford to run out of energy. Despite the throbbing pain in her head and backbone, she pushed forward. She had counted the guards, observed their shifts carefully, and most importantly, she had stolen a small access chip during her last ‘examination.’ Now, all she needed was to escape… or she might never get this chance. A sharp buzzing sound echoed in her ears as she passed under the sensor array. The bio-manipulator flared in warning, but she kept her pace steady. Panic would only make the situation much, much worse.She pressed the chip into the wall panel… and for a few moments, nothing happened.“Shit!”She muttered a curse under her breath, ready to try again. But the soft sound of footsteps behind her froze her blood in her veins. She turned, ready to fi
Ch-50
To anyone who moved on after the first glance, the small farmhouse at the edge of the Ashvale woods would look like it had been abandoned for years. Ivy had grown so rapidly and densely that it almost choked the wooden beams, the windows were clouded with dust and grime that had accumulated with, and the fence had collapsed under its own weight. But Nathan Cole knew better. To someone with an eye as sharp as his, the movement of shadows inside the house was enough prood of life. Moreover, there were cables, that might be hidden, but clearly ran to a private grid. The security net was subtle but flawed.He breached it in under thirty seconds.His steps were silent as he entered through the back, the ring on his finger cool and dormant. That worried him. No pulse. No warmth. Harper wasn’t close.A rusted hallway led to a steel door, polished on the inside. He keyed in the last cipher from Harrow’s old logs.The door opened with a hiss.Inside, an old woman in a lab coat stood hunched
Ch-49
Nathan turned the leather-bound book over in his hands for the third time that evening. The Silent Mind—a gift from Harper. She’d handed it to him just after they wrapped the Pacific hearing, smiling like she’d found the perfect thing. “For when the world is too loud,” she had said. “Find your stillness.” He hadn’t understood it then.Tonight, with Harper missing and silence crawling over every wall of his apartment, the words hit differently.He sighed and opened it. The pages had been thumbed through, but something felt off now. The weight distribution. His eyes scanned the margins again, flipped past the mid-chapters. A quiet clink interrupted the stillness.Something metallic slid out from between pages 147 and 148 and landed softly on the floor.A silver key.Not one from his collection of classified lockboxes. This one was unique—slender, antiquated. The bow of the key was shaped like a gear, the stem engraved with a faded crest: Gravemoor Trust. Nathan stilled.That name hadn’t
Ch-48
Harper’s breathing stuttered again.She clutched the edge of the briefing table, eyes squeezed shut, heart pounding wildly in her chest. The fluorescent lights above swam into a blur as her vision fogged, narrowing to a dim tunnel. Cold sweat broke across her neck.“Harper?” one of the junior agents asked, voice laced with concern. “Ma’am, are you—?”“I’m fine,” she gasped, straightening with effort. “Just… low blood sugar.”But even as she brushed past them, her mind screamed a different truth: this was the third episode in two weeks.Nathan ordered a medical scan the moment she stumbled into his office and slumped against the wall. An hour later, the results came in—and they chilled him to the bone.“There’s a device,” the Imperium medic said quietly. “Embedded near her heart. Organic-compatible metal. We didn’t pick it up on standard scans. It emits microbursts of electric interference—strong enough to interrupt cardiac rhythm and cognitive clarity.”Harper stared at the monitor in
Ch-47
Nathan stood before the war table, the tactical map glowing beneath his fingertips. His face was pale, still recovering from the toxin that nearly killed him, but his eyes were sharp. Clear and lethal.Harper stepped beside him, suited in black utility gear, her tablet already synced to the incoming intel.“The poison failed,” Nathan said quietly. “That means Ethan’s desperate. He’s losing ground faster than he thought.”Harper nodded. “And that gives us an opening. I’ve identified one of his key labs—hidden under an abandoned textile plant outside Bratislava. It’s not just a facility. It’s where they’re mass-producing the neurological suppressors.”Nathan’s jaw clenched. “The same ones used in the Edenfield experiments.”She didn’t have to answer. He already knew.“I’ll lead the strike team,” she said.“No,” he said instinctively. “You nearly lost me last night—”“And I’m not losing you by sitting this out. I know how Ethan thinks. I’ve studied his old battle doctrines, field tests,
Ch-46
Ethan paced the length of the underground chamber, boots echoing against metal flooring as screens flickered along the curved walls. His breathing was ragged. His eyes bloodshot. The data didn’t lie—another lab gone, five high-ranking insiders turned, and the TriSummit phase spiraling out of control. And Nathan Cade... always Nathan, standing where Ethan once ruled. He slammed his fist into the wall, splitting the touchscreen panel in two. “They’re slipping through your fingers,” hissed a voice in his head—not real, but so clear it might as well have been spoken aloud. The augmented visor on his face pulsed red. Ethan staggered back and ripped it off, tossing it across the room where it shattered like a wineglass. His top lieutenant, Malik, entered with careful steps, as if afraid the floor might explode beneath him. “Sir,” Malik began, “you asked for the next schedule of—” “I don’t need paper!” Ethan snarled. “I need loyalty. I need action. I need someone to take that woman ou
Ch-45
The old textile mill on the outskirts of Rhyne City had been dormant for years—or so the records said. In reality, it pulsed with covert activity beneath its rusting exterior. Ethan’s off-the-books lab, hidden behind false contracts and a shell corporation, was ground zero for the production of neurological suppressors—a chemical agent capable of rendering resistance fighters docile without a trace.Nathan had authorized the takedown two days prior.He knew it had to be Harper leading the unit. She had field experience, operational instincts, and—perhaps most importantly—a mind capable of mirroring Ethan’s unpredictability.Now, under the veil of night, Harper crouched behind a toppled conveyor belt inside the mill’s third sector, her comm crackling with interference. The initial breach had gone smoothly—too smoothly. The intel had said minimal guards. In reality, her five-person team had walked into a death trap.Three were already down. The fourth was bleeding from the thigh behind
Ch-44
The final ovation faded as Harper stepped down from the stage, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. The last of the TriSummit’s keynote addresses had just concluded, and she had delivered it with unwavering grace and poise.Nathan watched from the shadows of the back row, arms folded across his chest, a faint smile ghosting his lips. He had insisted Harper take the final spotlight. She’d earned it. Every syllable of her speech, every statistic, every strategic vision she laid out for Imperium Corp and its future alliances had landed with precision. She had looked powerful, sleek, and dignified—her dark green suit sharp against the sterile lights of the conference hall.As she exited the stage, applause still trailing in the air, most of the hall emptied quickly. Delegates murmured their goodbyes, reporters chased soundbites, and aides corralled their bosses toward waiting limousines. Nathan remained seated, letting the crowd dissolve.Then he heard them.Three men rem
Ch-43
The final day of the TriSummit arrived with the polish of a flawless performance.Diplomats, executives, and military liaisons filled the grand atrium of Imperium Corp’s headquarters. A glass dome overhead bathed the crowd in morning light, refracted through filtered security panels. The keynote stage gleamed beneath focused spotlights, already surrounded by camera crews and speechwriters murmuring in hushed urgency.Harper moved like a shadow through the backstage corridors, comms clipped discreetly to her ear. Her eyes flicked between schematics on her tablet and the real-world layout. Balcony access sealed. Rooftop sweeps completed. Still, the tension clung to her spine like a cold breath.“Sniper nest was neutralized,” she whispered into her mic. “But something still feels off.”Nathan, standing behind the velvet curtain, adjusted the cuff of his dark charcoal suit. His expression was unreadable, but Harper saw the fatigue under his eyes. He hadn’t slept. Not properly. Not since t
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