RISE OF THE FALLEN HEIR

CHAPTER 5: RETURN TO THE BATTLEFIELD

Revenge doesn’t always roar.

Sometimes, it whispers slowly, precisely, and patiently.

It had been three months since I’d “died.”

Three months after Ethan Cross vanished into the ashes, Eli Grant was born in his place. The world believed I was gone, and that illusion was my greatest weapon.

[Mission Progress: Phase Two Reconstruction of Power, 38% complete.]

Omega’s calm voice echoed in my head as I walked into the glass fortress of Helion Dynamics, Zenith Corporation’s fiercest rival.

The lobby glowed with marble and holograms, filled with executives wearing smiles. I adjusted my suit, the new name tag clipped neatly to my chest: Eli Grant Freelance Systems Consultant.

The receptionist smiled politely. “Mr. Grant, the board is expecting you. I returned the smile, I could feel Omega analyzing every heartbeat, every camera angle, every whisper of data in the air.

[All surveillance feeds mapped. Security grid compromised. Path to executive data center clear.]

“Perfect,” I murmured under my breath, striding toward the elevator.

Inside the Boardroom was a cathedral of glass and chrome, overlooking the sprawling skyline of Vale City. Twelve men and women sat around a long, gleaming table. At the head sat Frederick Kline, CEO of Helion Dynamics, an old rival of Damien Holt.

“Mr. Grant,” Kline said, leaning back in his chair. “Your reputation precedes you. Predictive analytics, quantum encryption, and data synchronization models you’re something of a ghost in the industry.”

I smiled faintly. “A ghost that delivers results.”A low ripple of laughter circled the table. Kline steepled his fingers. “We need a man like you. Someone who can help us destabilize Zenith’s market dominance. Their NeuroLink project has made them unstoppable.”

“I’m familiar with it,” I said, Kline smiled. “Then you understand the stakes. We don’t want destruction, Mr. Grant. We want disruption. Subtle, invisible death by a thousand cuts.”

The irony wasn’t lost on me.

That was exactly what I intended to give them, only Zenith wasn’t the client. It was the target.

“I’ll get started immediately,” I said.

[Objective parameters updated.]

[Mission Extension: Initiate silent sabotage of Zenith Corporation financial systems.]

[Reward: 2 Skill Points + System Stability Boost.]

The Game Begins at night, I worked from my small apartment, Omega’s holographic interface flickering above the desk. Streams of data poured through my neural link stock trends, insider communications, automated trade signals.

[Initiating Financial Disruption Protocol.]

[Target: Zenith Corporation Asset Network.]

I exhaled slowly, my hands hovering above invisible data fields. “Let’s start bleeding them.”

Numbers shifted in the air like living code. I could see patterns others couldn’t hide anomalies, micro-errors, flaws in Zenith’s stock infrastructure. With Omega’s help, I slipped into their systems without leaving a trace.

[Injecting false volatility signals… transferring fractional losses to shadow accounts.]

[Projected effect: 3.7% market devaluation within 72 hours.]

“Make it happen,” I whispered.The world’s markets were at my fingertips. The feeling was intoxicating, the kind of power I once dreamed of using to change humanity, now twisted into a tool of vengeance.

Omega hummed softly.

[Host efficiency: 92%. Cognitive synchronization stable.]

“This is just the beginning,” I said. “When Damien’s empire starts to rot from the inside, I want him to wonder which ghost came back to haunt him.”

A week later, I was on my way to another Helion meeting when I saw her.

A woman in a trench coat, auburn hair pulled into a bun, camera drone hovering near her shoulder. She stood near the entrance of the building, scanning the crowd with her eyes.

Omega’s tone sharpened.

[Unknown surveillance detected. Target: Female, age 28. Identity match Evelyn Grant. Occupation: Investigative journalist, Vale City Times.]

“Grant?” I muttered. “Any relation?”

[Negative. No biological or legal connection.]

She caught my gaze for a split second then smiled. Not the polite kind. The kind that said, I know something you don’t.

[Recommendation: Avoid contact.]

But she was already walking toward me. “Mr. Grant,” she said smoothly, extending a hand. “Evelyn Grant. No relation, I promise. Though the name coincidence makes for an interesting headline.”

I forced a polite smile. “ What brings you to a tech building?” Her gaze lingered a moment too long. “A rumor,” she said. “About a man who came out of nowhere with perfect algorithms. Predicting stock shifts to the second. Impressive, almost inhuman.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Sounds good. But rumors are like code easy to manipulate.”

She smiled faintly. “I like puzzles. And you, Mr. Grant… you’re a very interesting one.”

Before I could reply, her phone beeped. She glanced at the data feed, frowning, then looked back at me.

“Do you believe in ghosts, Mr. Grant?”

My blood ran cold.

[Warning: Emotional spike detected. Maintain composure.]

I met her gaze. No,ghosts are for people who can’t let go of the past.Then maybe the past hasn’t let go of you.

She turned and walked away, leaving me standing in the lobby, the hum of data screens whispering like distant echoes.

[Warning: Journalist Evelyn Grant accessing restricted government archives. Potential link to Project Erebus detected.]

Project Erebus I murmured. “The same name Ivy mentioned.”

[Affirmative.]

[Host caution advised. Exposure probability increasing.]

Sabotage Complete, by the next morning, Zenith’s stock had begun to crash.

Headlines screamed across every digital platform:

ZENITH CORPORATION SHARES PLUNGE AFTER DATA BREACH.

CEO DAMIEN HOLT UNDER INVESTIGATION.

I sat at my desk, coffee in hand, watching it unfold.

[Mission Success. Reward allocated: +2 Skill Points.]

[New Ability Available: Predictive Network Manipulation.]

 “We did it, Omega.”

[Correction: You did it. I executed.]

I leaned back, letting a smirk tug at my lips. “We make a good team.”But as I turned off the feed, my reflection in the black screen stared back unreadable, detached. Somewhere deep inside, I wondered if I was still the man I used to be.

The line between vengeance and corruption was blurring faster than I could control.

Later that night, Omega suddenly went silent. The hum in my mind constantly, steadily stopped. For the first time in months, there was nothing but stillness.

“Omega?” I whispered. “Talk to me.”

Nothing.

Then, like a thunderclap —

[Critical Alert.]

[Host identity compromised. Journalist Evelyn Grant cross-referenced biometric anomalies.]

[Probability of exposure: 60% and rising.]

 “She found me?”

[Affirmative. Security footage correlation traced. Multiple data points match pre-Alpha profile.]

The lights in my apartment flickered. Omega’s holographic interface glitched, flashing warning sigils I’d never seen before.

[New Mission Generated.]

[Objective: Neutralize the threat Evelyn Grant.]

[Failure Consequence: Host identity collapse.]

I stared at the glowing message, my heart pounding. Outside, thunder rolled over Vale City, a reminder that even the dead can be hunted.

“Omega,” I whispered. “No killing, not unless it’s the last resort.”

[Restriction noted. But at the current trajectory. The last resort will come soon.]

The city lights flickered a

gain, and I felt its eyes watching from the dark. The battlefield had changed. But the war was only beginning.

[Host identity at 60% risk.]