2025-08-06 22:40:37Chapter 6: Project Phoenix
Three Years Ago – Somewhere Classified
A man knelt in a dark cell, bound in rusted chains. His face was obscured, one eye swollen shut. A flickering fluorescent light buzzed above.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor.
He didn’t look up—until the door opened and a voice greeted him.
“Mr. Cross. You survived.”
The man flinched.
Only one person called him that anymore.
The General.
White uniform. Black gloves. And eyes colder than war itself.
He stepped into the cell, flanked by armed soldiers.
“I always knew you’d be hard to kill. That’s why I chose you.”
The prisoner spat blood. “Chose me for what?”
The General smiled faintly.
“For Phoenix.”
Present Day — Safehouse
Elara stared across the table at Damian. Her face had regained color. Her mind hadn’t.
“Who’s pulling Victor’s strings?” she asked. “And what’s Project Phoenix?”
Damian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled a small, unmarked box from a drawer and placed it between them.
Inside was a hard drive, wrapped in titanium casing.
He opened it carefully.
“What you’re about to see,” he said, “is the reason I became a ghost.”
The screen lit up.
Documents. Maps. Surveillance photos.
Then: a military insignia.
A phoenix rising through flames.
“Project Phoenix was an experimental black ops program,” Damian explained. “Funded by private billionaires and sanctioned by people above even the president. The goal? Create a network of covert assets — trained from childhood — to infiltrate global power structures.”
Elara blinked. “Wait, are you saying—?”
“I was their first success. Their prototype.”
She leaned back, shocked. “You were trained for this?”
He nodded. “Until I rebelled. Faked my death. Vanished. And built my own empire, piece by piece.”
“Why?”
“To bring them down.”
He leaned forward.
“And because they murdered my brother to keep me compliant.”
Elsewhere — Hidden Facility, Level 13
Surrounded by computers, masked operators watched satellite feeds of Damian’s safehouse.
“Visual confirmation: Subject Alpha is alive. Target Echo is with him.”
Behind them, a figure stepped into view.
The General.
No name. No fingerprint. Only rank.
“He’s ahead of schedule,” the General muttered. “Elara wasn’t supposed to survive. Someone interfered.”
An agent turned. “Do we terminate?”
“No,” the General said. “Let him come. Let him think he’s winning.”
He stepped closer to the screen.
“When he gets close enough… we burn him alive. Just like the others.”
Back at the Safehouse — Training Room
Damian tossed Elara a small blade.
She barely caught it.
“Seriously?”
“If you’re going to be in this war,” he said, “you’ll need more than a voice and a pretty face.”
“I didn’t ask to be in your war.”
“You are now.”
She threw the knife at him.
He dodged.
“Good,” he said, smirking. “Anger sharpens the edge.”
She charged him.
He let her.
Let her think she had control.
She slashed the air. He caught her wrist, twisted, pinned her to the wall.
Her breath caught.
Not from fear.
From the proximity.
His voice dropped. “Careful, Elara. Some wolves don’t bite… until you’re already bleeding.”
Meanwhile — Kane Industries Headquarters
Serena Kane, now acting CEO, faced a boardroom full of vultures.
“Victor is missing,” one director said.
Serena didn’t flinch. “He’s handling internal matters.”
“We haven’t heard from him in 48 hours.”
“He’s under orders. Mine.”
The room quieted.
Then someone slid a folder across the table.
“Serena… this came anonymously.”
She opened it.
Inside were photos.
Damian.
Elara.
Victor’s men—dead.
She froze.
Her pulse pounded.
“Who gave this to you?” she demanded.
“We don’t know.”
But she did.
Only one man would move this boldly.
Only one man would kill without flinching.
She stood.
“Cancel all my meetings. Now.”
Later That Night — Safehouse Balcony
Rain pattered softly against the stone railing.
Elara stepped out into the night air, wrapped in a borrowed jacket. Damian stood alone at the edge, overlooking the city skyline.
“Why me?” she asked quietly. “Why did they want me silenced?”
He didn’t turn. “Because your father was once one of them.”
She froze.
“My… what?”
“Your father, Lucian Vale. He was a financier for Phoenix. He funded black sites, weapons transfers, even experimental trials.”
“No. That’s not true.”
“Look into his records. Offshore accounts. Shadow trusts. It’s all there.”
Elara shook her head. “He died in a car accident when I was nine.”
Damian finally turned.
“No, Elara. He was executed. And they made it look like an accident.”
Flashback — Seventeen Years Ago
A little girl plays in the garden.
A car explodes in the driveway.
She screams.
Two men in suits grab her and pull her away before she sees the remains.
But she hears it.
And she never forgets.
Back in the Present
Elara’s eyes filled with tears.
“You knew this whole time.”
Damian didn’t deny it.
“That’s why you kept me close,” she whispered. “To use me.”
He nodded. “At first.”
“But now?”
He said nothing.
She stepped forward. “Tell me the truth.”
Still, silence.
That was her answer.
She turned to leave—
—and stopped.
The tablet inside lit up again.
An audio file played automatically.
A distorted voice.
“Alpha is compromised. Kill Echo. Use the sister if necessary. Burn the safehouse.”
The screen showed GPS coordinates.
Then a countdown.
00:04:58
Final Scene: Damian’s Expression Hardens
He grabs Elara’s hand.
“Run.”
“Where—”
“We don’t run to hide,” he said. “We run to start a war.”
As the safehouse explodes behind them, Damian and Elara disappear into the smoke.
Miles away, The General watches from a secure line.
“Just like before,” he says coldly. “Run, Damian. Burn everything. We’ll always find you.”
He turns to his agent.
“Activate the twins. It’s time we remind him who he really is.”
Previous Chapter
Latest Chapter
Chapter 44
Chapter 44 – The Contract TrapThe leather-bound contract lay between them like a loaded gun. Its pages whispered of ruin, its seal gleamed like a brand. Damian didn’t touch it. He didn’t have to—the heavy signature at the bottom was his. Or at least, it looked like his.His chest tightened, not from shock, but from fury.“That’s not mine,” he said, voice low and measured, though the air around them vibrated with restrained violence. “The ink may be my name, but the hand isn’t.”Lucian leaned back in the velvet chair, eyes catching the crystal light overhead. He looked too comfortable in Damian’s world, as though the skyscraper’s steel bones had always belonged to him. His smile was the kind that carved scars.“Forgery is such a pedestrian word,” Lucian said, tapping one finger on the document. “This contract is flawless. Down to the pressure indentations of the pen. The legal system will eat it alive.”Damian’s jaw clenched. “You underestimate what I can prove.”“No, Damian,” Lucian
Chapter 43
Chapter 43 – Face to FaceThe limousine pulled away from the curb, its tinted windows reflecting the flood of camera flashes outside Damian’s old headquarters. From across the street, concealed in the shadows of a service entrance, Damian watched the procession of black cars glide up to the building’s marble steps. He recognized many of them—vehicles belonging to key shareholders, corporate partners, and political allies. Tonight was not just any event. It was a gathering of the company’s most powerful stakeholders, convened under the guise of an “emergency briefing” about the military tech scandal.In reality, Damian knew it was something far more dangerous.Lucian was inside.He adjusted the tailored tuxedo he’d borrowed from one of his underground contacts. The fabric smelled faintly of cologne and gunpowder, but it fit him well enough. His hair was slicked back, his jaw freshly shaven. He looked every inch the corporate titan he once was, save for the fire in his eyes—the fire of
Chapter 42
Chapter 42 – The Long GameThe night air smelled of gasoline and rain. Damian leaned against the hood of a nondescript sedan in a warehouse district no one with money or sense would step into after midnight. His suit was gone; now he wore a black turtleneck, a leather jacket, and the shadow of a man stripped of legitimacy. The city skyline flickered in the distance, indifferent to his exile.“They think they’ve cut me off,” Damian muttered, scanning the empty lot. “But I’ve survived worse.”Cole’s voice buzzed in his earpiece. “You’re sure about this? You’re asking men who’d slit your throat for half the price Lucian’s offering.”“That’s why they’ll respect me,” Damian replied. His tone carried that cold assurance that had once held boardrooms in rapt silence. “I don’t come begging. I come dealing.”The Underground MarketplaceThe steel doors of the warehouse creaked open. Inside, a dozen figures circled like sharks. Smugglers, arms dealers, data brokers—the kind of people Damian used
Chapter 41
Chapter 41 – ScandalThe kiss lasted only seconds.But in the world Damian lived in, seconds were enough to destroy an empire.By the time he had slipped out of the masquerade, mask discarded, anger simmering beneath his skin, the world already knew. Screens glowed in limousines outside. Phones buzzed in manicured hands. Every guest had seen the cameras, and every guest had whispered, texted, forwarded the image before the champagne had even gone flat.And by dawn, the kiss was everywhere.The FirestormThe first time Damian saw the image, he wanted to shatter the screen.There he was—or rather, the clone, perfectly posed in a silver mask, his mouth pressed against The Huntress’s as her hand curved around his jaw. Behind them, crystal chandeliers flared like coronas of fire. The caption beneath, courtesy of a gossip outlet that had been fed the picture within hours, read:Damian Kane’s Mask Falls: Secret Deal with Unknown Heiress Sealed with a KissThe photo had been doctored, of cour
Chapter 40
Chapter 40 – The Masked BallMasks had always been part of Damian Kane’s life.He’d worn them in boardrooms, on battlefields, in bed with women who thought they knew him. A smile when he felt nothing. Charm when he wanted blood. Control when his empire burned.But tonight’s mask was literal: black lacquer, edged in silver, sculpted into the sharp angles of a predator. It fit too well.The ballroom glowed beneath a canopy of chandeliers, every prism of crystal scattering light across velvet drapes and marble floors. A hundred conversations collided in the air—laughter behind feathered masks, whispers curling like smoke beneath the strings of the orchestra. Champagne glittered in flutes, jewels winked on throats and wrists, and every guest hid behind painted porcelain, as if anonymity were fashion instead of strategy.Damian threaded through it all like a shadow. He wore the mask, but his true disguise was the weight of his presence—controlled, invisible, unnoticed in a room that thrive
Chapter 39
Chapter 39 – Double CrossedThe Huntress always smiled like she was winning a game no one else could see.It made Damian’s skin crawl.He didn’t trust mercenaries, never had, and certainly not one who treated morality as a negotiable line item. Yet here she was, sitting in the corner of his penthouse’s war room, her booted feet propped on the polished steel table as if she owned the place. The skyline stretched behind her in a wash of glass and light, but all Damian could see was the glint in her eyes—sharp, predatory, self-assured.She had agreed too quickly, too easily. Claiming the role of buyer. Offering herself as bait. And while she had dressed it up as a tactical necessity, Damian knew enough about hunters to recognize the scent of personal prey. She wanted something out of this deal—something more than money, more than leverage.And until he knew what it was, she was as dangerous as Lucian himself.Elara paced the room, agitation bleeding through every gesture. “I don’t like t
You may also like
Age nineteen
Mela wrights2.1K viewsGhost Terror
M Nur Fadli2.9K views246: A Killer's Promise
JJ Dizz11.0K viewsThe Serial Killer: A headache for the police
Jejewiyyah2.7K viewsThe Hollow Below
Fred 121 viewsWELCOME TO OUTLIVE
Inonge Mitchie5.3K viewsMt. Enigma
Obscurascriptoris2.4K viewsLAYLA
Dadalifted3.2K views