2025-04-23 22:36:14The words from the mysterious caller echoed in Gregory’s mind as he hurried back through the dark streets:
“They won’t let you live long enough to claim it.”
It wasn’t paranoia if it was true. And everything about the Rosewell family—their sudden interest in DNA, their cruelty, their timing—reeked of something deeper. Something darker.
He slipped into the mansion through the back, moving like a shadow. But as soon as he reached the second floor—
Click.
The hallway lights blazed to life.
“Out past curfew?” Seth stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed, flanked by his older brother, Marcus.
Gregory kept walking.
“Not in the mood,” he muttered.
Marcus stepped in front of him. “You think just because someone’s sniffing around your past, it makes you special?”
Gregory didn’t stop. “No. But it makes you nervous.”
Seth's jaw clenched.
Marcus grabbed Gregory’s shoulder. “You think you can talk to us like that?”
Gregory turned slowly. “You’re not going to hit me. Not until you’re sure I’m not your boss’s son.”
Seth laughed. “We don’t need to hit you. Not when we can ruin you.”
Then he held up a photo.
Gregory froze.
It was him, in the library earlier that night. Taken from behind a glass window, but clear enough to recognize. Next to him on the screen—the article about Caldwell’s missing child.
“How—?” Gregory started.
“Think we don’t keep tabs on you now?” Seth sneered. “You’re not the only one with secrets.”
Marcus added, “Better get used to your attic. If that DNA test comes back negative, you’ll be back to scrubbing toilets with a toothbrush.”
They walked off, laughter echoing through the corridor.
Gregory’s hands trembled.
If they could photograph him in a public building, they could do worse.
The next day felt like a powder keg waiting to blow.
Mr. Rosewell didn’t speak to Gregory at all, which somehow felt more dangerous than his usual venom. Mrs. Rosewell barely looked at him. Even the other servants seemed tense.
Only Samuel tried to talk to him.
“You okay?” the boy asked softly in the hallway.
Gregory forced a smile. “Just a weird week.”
Samuel frowned. “You know, Dad’s been hiding documents in his office. He’s got folders with your name on them. I saw one when he left the door open last night.”
Gregory blinked. “Are you sure?”
Samuel nodded. “Gregory R. And a seal from the Caldwell Group.”
That was all the confirmation Gregory needed.
It was time to go deeper.
That night, when the house fell into silence, Gregory crept downstairs again. The grandfather clock struck 1:00 AM as he picked the lock to the study—something he’d secretly practiced for months in case he ever needed to sneak in to read or use the phone.
He slipped inside, flashlight in hand.
The drawers were locked, but he found the keys in a hollowed-out book titled Success Through Discipline. The irony almost made him laugh.
Inside the largest drawer were several labeled files. Most were dry financials. But then, tucked beneath a file marked CONFIDENTIAL, he found it.
Gregory R. Caldwell – Possible Match
His breath caught.
He opened the file.
There were photos of him from different angles—walking in the garden, cleaning the kitchen, even sleeping in his attic. Surveillance reports. Notes on his habits, sleep schedule, social media history.
And then, a faxed copy of a DNA request sent directly to Caldwell’s legal team—before the test Gregory had taken.
Which meant Mr. Rosewell had known long before the official test.
That meant only one thing: they were trying to control the narrative. To steal the inheritance before Caldwell ever met his real son.
Gregory heard a creak in the hallway.
He shoved the papers back, pocketing the file, and eased the drawer shut.
But the door opened—fast.
A shadow stepped in.
It was Mrs. Rosewell.
She didn’t scream.
She just stared at him.
And then whispered, “You shouldn’t be here, Gregory.”
Gregory backed up. “You knew, didn’t you? You all did.”
Her voice was a bitter hush. “They’ll never let you have it. Not the name. Not the company. Not the legacy. You’re just a stain they’ve been trying to clean.”
Gregory shook his head. “You can’t hide this forever.”
She gave a slow smile. “We don’t have to. We just have to hide it long enough.”
Then her expression changed.
Fear.
She turned her head, as if hearing something behind the walls.
Then she whispered: “Run. Before they decide you’re not worth the risk.”
Gregory bolted.
Back in his attic, he locked the door, heart pounding, clutching the stolen file. He had proof now. But nowhere to take it. No allies. No idea who he could trust.
Then his phone buzzed again.
UNKNOWN NUMBER
He picked up.
“I told you they were watching,” the same voice said. “And now they know you know.”
“Who are you?” Gregory demanded.
“I’m someone who’s seen the worst of that family. And I know where they keep the original hospital records. You want the truth? You’ll meet me tomorrow. Midnight. At the old shipping yard by Dock 14.”
Then silence.
Gregory stared at the ceiling again, but sleep was out of the question.
Because now, he wasn’t just a servant.
He was a target.
And tomorrow… he might become the heir no one wanted.
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CHAPTER 320: PURIFICATION PROTOCOL
The sky didn’t darken all at once. It dimmed in layers, like a theater lowering its lights before the final act.High above the city, sleek silhouettes slid into formation. Not bombers. Not fighters. Clean, silent platforms with underslung arrays that shimmered like heat mirages.Amelia felt it in her bones. “Those aren’t weapons platforms.”Gregory’s eyes tracked the movement. “They’re judgment engines.”A pulse rippled outward. Not an explosion. A decision. Across the district, systems reclassified in real time. Traffic lights locked red. Transit halted mid-track.Network access throttled to near-zero. Emergency services rerouted, away. Crane’s console screamed. “He’s isolating sectors. Selective deprivation. He’s turning the city into compartments.”Blake cursed. “He’s starving dissent.”Outside, the crowd felt it immediately. Phones lost signal. Power dipped. A child began to cry as a streetlamp went out. The murmurs sharpened into fear.Host Zero’s voice returned, no warmth now,
CHAPTER 319: THE HERESY ENGINE
They didn’t come screaming. They didn’t come armed. They came walking. Thousands of footsteps moved in quiet coordination outside the freight terminal, a low murmur rising and falling like a single breath shared by many lungs.No banners. No weapons. No Raven armor. Just people. Men and women. Students. Workers. Parents. Clerks. Drivers.Faces lit by the soft glow of stabilized streetlights, calm, resolved, terrifyingly convinced. Amelia watched through a cracked service door, her throat dry. “This isn’t a mob.”“No,” Gregory said softly. “It’s a congregation.”Blake checked his ammo out of habit, then stopped himself. His voice dropped. “We can’t shoot our way out of this. Not without becoming exactly what he wants.”Crane’s console chimed again, slow, deliberate pings. “He’s throttling information flow. Local networks are sealed. They’re not hearing us. Only him.”Outside, a voice carried through mounted loudspeakers. Not Host Zero’s. Not mechanical. Human. “Gregory Caldwell,” the v
CHAPTER 318: DIVINE SELECTION
The first city to fall was not burned. It was chosen.At exactly 06:00 UTC, the lights in Tallinn dimmed, not out, just low enough to be noticed. Trains slowed. ATMs paused mid-transaction. Hospital generators kicked in a half-second too late. No chaos. No panic.Just a message. Every screen, public, private, forgotten, flickered to the same symbol. A black raven. Wings spread. Head bowed.Then Host Zero’s voice, calm and intimate, as if speaking to each citizen alone. “Order is not imposed. Order is selected.”The city listened. In the freight terminal, Gregory felt it before he saw it. A pressure behind the eyes. A hum in the bones. The kind of silence that only comes when systems agree with each other.Crane stared at the feeds, face draining of color. “He’s not attacking infrastructure.”Amelia leaned in. “Then what is he doing?”Crane swallowed. “He’s curating it.”Across the map, nodes lit up, cities, districts, neighborhoods, each tagged with a simple binary.SELECTED EXCLUDED
CHAPTER 317: PHASE TWO — FALSE GODS
The first false Gregory Caldwell was arrested in São Paulo at dawn. He screamed when the cameras came on. Not in defiance. Not in rage. But in terror.Within minutes, the footage was everywhere, news feeds, social streams, emergency broadcasts. A man with Gregory’s face, Gregory’s biometrics, Gregory’s financial trail, dragged from a penthouse in cuffs.Host Zero watched the clip from his command center, expression unreadable. “Confirmed?” he asked calmly.A Raven analyst nodded. “DNA match within accepted variance. Shadow Ledger signature confirmed.”Host Zero tilted his head slightly. “Accepted variance,” he repeated. “An interesting phrase.”Across the Atlantic, another Gregory Caldwell checked into a private clinic in Zurich. A third surfaced in Jakarta, liquidating assets tied to a defunct shell company.A fourth died in a car explosion outside Marrakesh, burned beyond recognition. The world didn’t see confusion. It saw confirmation.Gregory Caldwell was everywhere.Gregory Caldw
CHAPTER 316: THE MANHUNT PROTOCOL
The city lights blurred into streaks of white and amber as the armored transport tore through Cairo’s outer districts. Sirens wailed somewhere behind them, but none were close enough to matter. Not yet.Inside the vehicle, no one spoke.Gregory sat rigid, elbows on his knees, jaw locked. His mind was already elsewhere, mapping patterns, projecting outcomes, running probabilities the way his father once had… and the way Host Zero now did better.Amelia broke the silence first. “You said you’d start thinking like a virus.”Blake snorted softly. “I was hoping that was metaphorical.”Gregory didn’t look up. “It’s not.”Crane stirred on the bench opposite them, coughing weakly. His neck was bruised purple, his voice hoarse. “He’s activated it, hasn’t he?”Gregory nodded. “The Manhunt Protocol.”Blake frowned. “I’ve heard rumors. Never thought it was real.”“It was theoretical,” Crane said grimly. “A global response framework Richard Caldwell designed but never deployed. It links private s
CHAPTER 315: THE RAVEN LEGION
The first shell slammed into the outer wall with a violence that turned concrete into dust. The second shook the entire underground level, ripping cables from the ceiling and flinging them like angry snakes.Emergency lights burst. Fire alarms shrieked. The facility, already wounded, began to die around them.Amelia stumbled but stayed on her feet, gripping her weapon. “Those aren’t standard rounds,” she shouted over the chaos. “They’re testing structural weaknesses!”“They’re not trying to destroy the facility,” Gregory said, eyes focused, mind racing. “They’re trying to flush us out.”Host Zero stood in the center of the room, perfectly calm while the world collapsed around him. “You see them as enemies,” he told Gregory. “That amuses me. They see me as salvation.”“Delusional cult thinks the same about every false god,” Gregory shot back.Outside, engines roared in layers. Heavy transport carriers. Armored vans. Drones splitting the air like mechanical hornets.“The Raven Legion,”
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