2025-06-14 23:09:20Rain hammered against the windshield, as if trying to break through.
Damien Cross didn’t flinch. He never did. Behind the wheel of a matte-black SUV, he could feel the engine hum beneath him as he zeroed in on the blinking red light across the street. Two stories up, second window from the lefttarget confirmed.
Sophia Reed.
She was thirty-two, owned a bookstore, and had a clean slate criminal record, no known enemies. But Adrian Vale didn’t hire Damien just to shield innocent women from threats that didn’t exist.
No, he called Damien when things were about to get messy.
The comm in Damien’s ear crackled to life.
“Target’s still inside,” said Reed from Logistics. “She’s reading a paperback and hasn’t moved in twenty minutes. You think this job’s worth it?”
Damien didn’t respond. He didn’t owe rookies an explanation. This contract came straight from Vale’s encrypted line, high priority, eyes only. Protect the girl. No questions asked.
That told him one thing: Vale was scared.
And when a guy like Adrian Vale got scared, people ended up dead.
Damien stepped out of the SUV, boots splashing in the puddles. The rain soaked through his black field jacket, and he pulled the collar up to shield his face. A passerby glanced his way. Their eyes met, then quickly dropped. Smart move.
He crossed the street quickly, stopping just outside the glass door of the bookstore. A bell hung above it, hand-painted with fading flowers. Willow Books, the sign read. So quaint it made him suspicious.
Of course, the door was unlocked.
He pushed it open, ringing the bell. The warmth hit him first, followed by the scent of old paper, fresh coffee, and a hint of lavender. He scanned the room instinctively: no cameras, one exit out front, another stairwell behind the counter. Empty, except for her.
Sophia Reed sat behind the counter, completely absorbed in a worn copy of Wuthering Heights. She wore a gray cardigan and dark jeans, her hair twisted into a messy knot. She didn’t look up. That meant she had no idea.
No idea Vale had flagged her as a “Level Three Live Asset.”
No clue someone had tried to breach her back-door server at 2:03 a.m.
No idea Damien had spotted a guy tailing her two nights ago, and that same guy was now unconscious in the trunk of Damien’s other vehicle, thumbs broken.
She was completely exposed.
“Excuse me?” she said, glancing up. “We’re closed.”
Damien stepped closer. “Not here to shop.”
Now she was looking at cautious green eyes flicking from his face to the Glock partially visible under his coat. She stood slowly but didn’t back away.
“I think you have the wrong place.”
“Nope,” Damien replied. “I’m exactly where I need to be.”
He reached into his coatnot for the gun, but for the ID card Vale had issued. He placed it on the counter. Her eyes dropped to it.
Then narrowed.
“Vale Industries? What the hell does Vale want with me?”
Damien kept his voice steady. “It’s a precaution.”
“What kind of precaution sends a… trench coat hitman into my store without warning?”
He didn’t smile. “The kind that keeps you breathing.”
Sophia took a step back. “If this is a threat”
“It’s protection. Your name came up on a list. I’m here to make sure you don’t get killed.”
“List?” she echoed. “What list?”
Damien hasn’t answered yet. He moved toward the front door, locked it with a firm click, then flipped the sign to Closed. The store fell into silence.
“This is insane,” she muttered, rounding the counter to grab her phone. “I’m calling the police.”
“You won’t get a signal.”
Sophia froze, her thumb hovering over her screen. “Excuse me?”
“There’s a jamming radius active,” Damien stated flatly. “Started two blocks back. No signals in or out for the next twenty minutes.”
Her face drained of color. “Who the hell are you?”
He held her gaze. “The guy keeping you alive.”
Then, a sharp crack split the air.
Glass.
The front window shattered in a clean, practiced circle.
Damien tackled Sophia just as a bullet whizzed past where her head had been. They hit the floor harder gasp, his grunt, the sound of a stool crashing into the bookcase behind them.
Another shot. It missed, but a wood splintered near her ear.
Damien rolled, pulled out his
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Contact Broken
The safehouse at the edge of the rail yard felt like a tomb. No power, no windows, and no warmth. Just four cold concrete walls and a steel door that scraped loudly against the floor every time Damien opened it.Since leaving Malek’s compound, Sophia had hardly spoken a word.She moved slowly, sat there with a blank look, and ate without even tasting her food.Damien kept an eye on her from across the room. He could see her shoulders rise and fall with each breath, but her eyes? They were distant. Not like they used to be.Eclipse hadn’t just watched her; it had dug deeper, touching something within her that he couldn’t quite grasp.Damien settled near the door, his weapon resting across his lap. He hadn’t said much either.The truth hung heavy between them.He was the model, and she was the test subject. Every step he thought he was taking on his own had already been mapped out long before he made it.The AI didn’t just predict his actions; it revolved around them.And now, it waited
Subject Mirror
The tunnel felt like a void. When the lights flickered out, Damien didn’t budge. He pressed his back against the cold wall, his sidearm gripped tightly in his hand. Silence enveloped him. No sounds, no signals, nothing creeping up behind him.Just that message pulsing in his comm display: Subject Mirror online.He didn’t even blink.He ran that phrase through his mind, trying to make sense of it. It wasn’t part of the original Eclipse protocol. Not a known asset. Jace hadn’t mentioned it, and Vale had never dared to say it aloud.Mirror.Deep down, he knew what that meant. He just didn’t want to accept it.Taking a deep breath, he turned and headed back toward the main chamber.When he got there, he found Sophia sitting up. She looked pale, her hands gripping her knees tightly. It was like she hadn’t blinked in ages.She said she heard it again.Not quite sound. Not exactly words. Just something beneath all the noise. A breath. A heartbeat that didn’t belong to her.He asked her if s
Fade Point
The city came to a standstill when the explosion hit the news. Emergency alerts blared. Curfews were imposed. Drones buzzed overhead. Checkpoints popped up everywhere. It felt like every government agency sprang into action at once.But they weren’t blaming Caleb.No, the finger pointed squarely at Damien.Images of him were manipulated. Footage got chopped and reassembled. On every screen, it played on repeat: Damien talking to the boy, then the blast. A tidy narrative that completely wiped Eclipse from the story.In a dark corner of a deserted parking garage, Ash was wiping blood off Damien’s forehead. He insisted he was okay, but she shot him a look that said otherwise.Sophia was nearby, her hands trembling. Her eyes were glued to a small medical pouch. Since they left the van, she hadn’t said a word.While they hid, Ash picked up two signals. One was from the cops. The other? Not good.The cops wanted Damien dead.And the second one came from Eclipse.It wasn’t encrypted. No viru
The Asset War
Damien stood in the hallway, staring at the paused screen. Ash’s face filled the frame, caught mid-step in a place she insisted she’d never been. The video didn’t have a timestamp or any metadata just her, clear as day.Ash claimed the footage was fake. Eclipse had the tech to create deepfakes on the fly. They’d done worse before. Damien didn’t argue, but unease settled in his gut. Sophia stood behind them, arms crossed and quiet. She hadn’t said much since they left the staging facility.In the command room, Ash pulled up a damaged file Jace had left behind. It was still readable, revealing a manifest of embedded assets. It wasn’t just Sophia; there were others too. Names, ID numbers, and last-known statuses.One file blinked in red: Caleb Kirby. Seventeen years old. Active. Unstable.Ash said he’d been activated three days ago. His location? Washington D.C. His profile matched a known Eclipse trigger sequence. Damien didn’t need to ask what that meant. Suicide directive. Likely a ci
Blood Ties
The staging site sat cold under the old power grid. Rusted signs and broken locks surrounded them. Dust thickened the air, and silence hung heavy. Damien led the way, with Ash close behind, rifle in hand, and Sophia trailing, her portable data tablet in hand, eyes darting around.They stepped into the first control chamber. Dead monitors lined the wall, and in the center, a biometric access pillar awaited retina, palm, and voice.Damien approached and placed his hand on the scanner. Nothing happened.Then a mechanical sound came from behind the wall, and a tray slid open.Inside was a black cube and a small folded slip of paper.Damien picked them up and quietly read the note.It said he was never out, just dormant, signed with a single letter: R.He opened the cube. Inside was a list of data from human trial records. Eclipse Phase One.He scanned the names.Sophia was on the list.So was he.Cross, Damien. Subject 03A. Exposure controlled. Outcome marked unstable.Ash remained silent
The Reset
Sophia woke up to a heavy silence.Not the peaceful kindmore like that eerie feeling when you know someone’s watching you, pressing down on your chest.She sat up slowly, her head throbbing. Her skin felt clammy, and Damien’s coat hung over her shoulders.Across the room, he was slumped against the wall, arms crossed, staring at the floor as if it had betrayed him.“You okay?” she asked, breaking the stillness.His eyes lifted to meet hers. “You stopped the signal.”“Did it work?”“Too well,” he said. “Eclipse went dark right after. It dropped off every system. Not just drones. It vanished.”Sophia blinked. “That’s good… right?”Damien didn’t respond.Just then, Ash burst in, gripping her tablet. She looked like a zombielike she hadn’t slept in days.“We’ve got a problem,” she said, urgency in her voice.“Another one?” Damien muttered, sounding exhausted.“I did a full network scan. Eclipse isn’t offline. It’s off-grid.”Damien stood up straight. “What’s the difference?”Ash turned th