2025-09-22 12:17:35
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ARRIVAL IN NEOVALLE
The night sky split open with streaks of silver as the jet descended, engines howling like a beast announcing its claim over the heavens. Neovalle stretched below—its skyline glowing like molten gold, a constellation of towers stabbing into the clouds. From the oval window, Marvin Richmond sat rigid, his eyes locked on the sight. A thousand lights blinked back at him, as though the city itself was waiting, watching.He said nothing. His silence was thunder in the cabin.Stella shifted beside him, rocking baby Lucian against her chest, her soft hum fighting to soothe the child through the turbulence. Marvin’s hand lingered against the armrest, fingers tapping once, then still. He whispered under his breath, words meant for no one but himself.“This is not exile. This is rebirth.”The jet wheels screeched against the tarmac, sparks flying briefly in the dark. With a jolt, the aircraft settled, slowing into a steady glide. The storm inside Marvin’s chest did not ease.The door opened.
THE JOURNEY TO NEOVALLE
The engines growled like watchful beasts.Their low hum filled the Richmond courtyard, vibrating against the old stone walls that had carried the weight of Marvin's family’s history. Headlights cut through the night, beams of light carving into shadows that clung stubbornly to the mansion. The convoy was waiting—sleek, black vehicles lined with the precision of a military parade.Marvin Richmond stood still for a moment, drinking in the sight. Behind him, the mansion towered, silent and solemn, its windows dark, its walls watching. It felt less like a house and more like a tomb of memories—his battles, his scars, his victories all sealed inside.Carl Bowen stepped from the lead car, his silhouette was sharp under the lights. His voice cut across the night.“Are you ready?”Marvin exhaled once, steadying himself. He placed a firm hand on Alicia’s shoulder before moving forward. Without another glance behind him, he opened the door to the lead vehicle and slid inside.Behind him, Stel
PREPARING TO LEAVE RICHMOND
The house felt heavier than stone.Every hallway Marvin Richmond walked through seemed to echo louder, as if the walls themselves knew he was leaving. Paintings of his ancestors stared down at him, judgmental, silent, unblinking. For years this place had been the center of his battles, his victories, his scars. And now, he was putting it in order—one last time.At his desk in the high study, dusk pooled through the tall windows, spilling gold over stacks of papers, schematics, and maps of networks most of Westwood would never know existed. Alicia Richmond stood before him, a sleek notebook was open in her hands, her pen was poised like a blade ready to carve history into permanence.“Ready?” she asked softly.Marvin nodded. His voice was calm, steady, almost detached. “Begin.”She wrote quickly as he dictated.“Patent redistribution to subsidiary branches. Make sure our engineers hold majority shares. That way, no one outside Richmond can fracture what we built. The intelligence netw
THE SUMMONS OF THE COUNCIL
The summons arrived in silence. No messengers on horseback, no military escorts, no blaring announcements on city screens. Just a sealed black envelope delivered to Marvin Richmond’s residence, marked with the crest of eleven interwoven sigils—the seal of the Council of Elders.It was said that only once in a lifetime could a man be summoned before them, and even then, few survived the weight of it unchanged. To sit in their presence was the highest honor and the heaviest curse.Marvin stood on the Richmond mansion balcony as the envelope burned faintly in his hand. He had ensured the rebuilding of Richmond from ashes, fought through betrayal, declared reforms, and carved a thirty–year covenant around the Astralyte. Yet now, this—this felt heavier than every battlefield combined.The note had contained only six words.“The Hall of Continuum awaits you.”The motorcade was small and discreet, nothing like the grand parades that once carried his father. Marvin had refused more than two
A FATHER'S SHADOW
The Richmond Memorial Gardens were vast and solemn, a place where silence reigned louder than any voice. Sunlight spilled across polished marble walkways, reflecting against names carved into gleaming headstones. The air smelled faintly of trimmed grass and stone warmed by the afternoon sun.Marvin Richmond walked slowly, his shadow was long and sharp on the paved path. No much announcement, no escort, no enforcers followed him—only the weight of memory. The gardens were beautiful, but to him, they felt heavy, suffocating.He stopped before a black marble slab that rose taller than the others. The inscription gleamed in gold letters:Darien Richmond. Father. Lion of Dominion.Marvin’s jaw tightened. It was his father’s grave. Yes Darien Richmond (Mr Richmond) was his father and his grave stood pristine, draped in flowers from loyalists who still revered the man. But Marvin saw not the lion of legend—he saw the betrayer, the man who had broken his son with one final act of treachery
FAMILY BUSINESS, FAMILY BLOOD
The silence after the slaughter was unbearable.The banquet hall stank of gunpowder and blood. Bodies sprawled across the marble floor, their lifeless eyes staring at nothing. The candles on the long table flickered weakly, their light dancing on shattered goblets and spilled wine that bled into the cracks of the stone.And yet, above that carnage, one sound still lingered.Marvin Richmond’s laughter.Dark. Cold. Relentless.It was not the laughter of a man amused, but of a man who already owned the end of this story. His voice rolled across the hall like thunder breaking in the night, and even the walls seemed to tremble beneath its weight.The conspirators—Rowan, Martha, and two trembling allies—stood frozen in that sound. Their weapons had been stripped away. Their Synapticore had been snuffed out. And now they had nothing left but shame and fear.Marvin rose from his chair with unhurried grace, his hand brushing the table as he stood. His gaze swept across them, sharp as the edge
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