2025-06-30 20:50:39The rain came down hard that morning, as if the sky itself was spitting on him.
Kai Everhart stood outside the café with soaked shoes, a crumpled résumé, and a stomach twisting with hunger.
A plastic bag barely shielded his only good shirt from the downpour. He had walked five miles to beg for a part-time dishwasher job that paid less than minimum wage. It was already filled.
The manager didn’t even look him in the eye. As he turned away, his phone vibrated, another message from his ex. "Are you still breathing, trash? Should’ve stayed in your lane."
His fingers tightened around the device until his knuckles went white. He didn’t reply.
What could he say? She had moved on with a man who wore Rolexes and drove a car that cost more than Kai’s entire block.
Last month, she dumped him in front of a crowd, calling him a "charity case with delusions of grandeur." People laughed. He didn’t sleep for three nights after.
He walked. No money for the bus. Just enough coins for a stale bun at the corner store.
By noon, he was back in his old neighborhood, where trash bags lined the curbs and opportunity came with a price no one could afford.
He stopped near the alley where he used to sleep when things were worse. An old man asked if he had spare change.
Kai gave him the last two coins in his pocket.
“Kindness will pay you back,” the old man rasped.
Kai just smiled weakly. “Let me know when.”
At 1:27 PM, the world stopped. Black SUVs. Five of them. All identical. They turned the corner like a synchronized beast and slowed beside him.
People stared. Windows tinted. Engines low and smooth like predators purring.
A man stepped out of the lead car. Tall. Immaculate suit. Polished shoes that didn’t dare touch the filth.
He walked up to Kai and gave a slight bow, not mockery, not sarcasm, but respect. “Mr. Everhart?”
Kai blinked. “Yeah?”
The man produced an envelope, thick, cream-colored, sealed in gold wax with an intricate emblem. “You are the named beneficiary of a private legacy. Your presence is requested immediately.”
Kai frowned. “A scam?”
“No, sir. Your identification has been verified. Your benefactor died last night. You are now the sole heir to Everhart Global Holdings.”
Kai almost laughed. He hadn’t eaten all day. He had no job, no hope, no family.
The last time someone offered him something, it was a con for a pyramid scheme. “You’ve got the wrong guy,” he said flatly.
But the man handed him a phone. A voice came through , calm, female, and direct. “Mr. Everhart. This is Executive Director Lin. We’ve been searching for you for years. Please get in the car.”
Click.
He looked at the vehicle. Inside, leather seats. A tablet displaying his name. Bottled water. Air conditioning.
His stomach growled. His mind screamed scam. His heart whispered destiny. He got in.
By 2:15 PM, he was flying down the freeway in a convoy of luxury.
The man beside him , “Mr. Thorne” , explained without blinking: “Your grandfather, Lucian Everhart, passed away last night. His instructions were sealed. He left everything to you , the corporation, assets, holdings, private properties, shares, and liquid funds. You are now one of the wealthiest individuals alive.”
Kai laughed. “I didn’t even know my grandfather.”
“He knew you.”
Thorne handed him a dossier. Inside were photos. Of Kai as a child. At school. On the street. Watching from afar.
Tears pricked his eyes, but he blinked them away. “I’m dreaming,” he muttered.
“You’re waking up, sir.”
By 3:00 PM, the gates opened. A private mansion, no, a palace, overlooking the coast, glass and steel and silence.
As he stepped out, servants bowed. The front doors swung open without a touch.
He was handed keys. To this house. To everything.
By 3:15 PM, his old phone buzzed. His ex, "Can we talk?"
His boss, "Hey... about that job... come back anytime. Actually, I was wondering if you'd be interested in a management position."
His uncle, "Kai, family is forever. Let’s talk soon." He stared at the messages.
Then dropped the phone in the koi pond. He stood on the balcony, wind in his face, staring at the sea.
They threw coins at him like a beggar. Now? He could buy the building they worked in and tear it down just for fun. But revenge could wait. He was still hungry, and now… he could feast.
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Chapter 227. The Analog Sanctum
The storm came without warning. It rolled across the dead plain in a hard gray wall, sand cutting sideways, wind tearing at anything not bolted down. The outer colonies had no warning systems left. No satellites. No alerts. You learned storms by feeling the air change.Kai felt it as he tightened the last bolt on the solar mast. He climbed down from the rusted scaffold as the first gust hit, boots slipping on cracked concrete. He pulled a tarp over the exposed panels and locked it down with steel hooks. The wind howled harder, slamming into the skeletal remains of the old facility.The structure had once been a weather research hub. Pre-digital. Built before full automation. Thick walls. Manual controls. It had survived because no one thought it mattered anymore.Kai shoved the door closed and sealed the latch. The storm battered the building. The lights inside did not flicker.A single generator hummed, steady and low. Kai stood in the center of the room and waited until the sound
Chapter 226. The Shattered Vault
The Vault died in pieces. Not in one purge. Not with a broadcast or a final stand. It broke quietly, node by node, person by person, until no one could say where it ended or what it had ever been.Kai learned this by walking. He moved under a new name again. The alias changed with each region. Clothes changed too. What stayed the same was his pace. Slow. Observant. Never first to speak.The first rumor reached him in a rail-yard settlement built from overturned freight cars.Two men argued beside a barrel fire. “You hear about the Vault people?” one asked.The other spat into the dirt. “Which ones?”“The ones who ran the deep code. Before the blackout.”“Yeah,” the second man said. “They’re gone. Or sold out.”Kai kept walking. That night, he slept in a maintenance tunnel with water dripping through cracked concrete. He wrote by lantern light, pencil scratching steady lines across paper. “Vault no longer cohesive. Names traded like currency.”He closed the journal and hid it under h
Chapter 226. The Shattered Vault
The Vault died in pieces. Not in one purge. Not with a broadcast or a final stand. It broke quietly, node by node, person by person, until no one could say where it ended or what it had ever been.Kai learned this by walking. He moved under a new name again. The alias changed with each region. Clothes changed too. What stayed the same was his pace. Slow. Observant. Never first to speak.The first rumor reached him in a rail-yard settlement built from overturned freight cars.Two men argued beside a barrel fire. “You hear about the Vault people?” one asked.The other spat into the dirt. “Which ones?”“The ones who ran the deep code. Before the blackout.”“Yeah,” the second man said. “They’re gone. Or sold out.”Kai kept walking. That night, he slept in a maintenance tunnel with water dripping through cracked concrete. He wrote by lantern light, pencil scratching steady lines across paper. “Vault no longer cohesive. Names traded like currency.”He closed the journal and hid it under h
Chapter 225. The Empire of Tenebris
The banners went up before sunrise. They were black, thick cloth reinforced with fiber, heavy enough to hang straight even in the wind. Crews worked in silence, fastening them to towers, bridges, and the skeletal remains of old Crest infrastructure. Floodlights came online one by one, turning the banners into flat silhouettes against pale concrete.By the time the sun crested the horizon, the city center no longer belonged to Crest. It belonged to Tenebris.Armored formations assembled across the Grand Axis Plaza. Rows of soldiers locked into position, boots aligned, rifles angled down. No insignia marked rank. Only the Tenebris symbol burned white on their chest plates.Civilians gathered at a distance first, then closer. Word had spread during the night. Power was returning. Water pumps had restarted in three districts. Food convoys had crossed borders without being attacked. People came because things were working again.They stood shoulder to shoulder, quiet, watching the platf
Chapter 224. The World Without Hands
The man called himself Rowan now. He answered to it when spoken aloud. He signed it on ration logs. He let it settle into his posture, his walk, his way of standing slightly off-center in any room. Rowan was forgettable. That was the point.Kai cut his hair short with a dull blade in a communal washroom two days after leaving the convoy. He shaved unevenly, then let stubble grow back wrong. He burned his old jacket and traded it for a patched coat that smelled of oil and rain. When he caught his reflection in a cracked mirror, he tilted his head, adjusted his shoulders, and nodded once.The face would pass. The settlement outside the dead zone called itself Haven Ridge. It was neither haven nor ridge. It was a sprawl of stacked shipping containers, collapsed prefab housing, and tents stretched between old highway pylons. Smoke drifted from cook fires. People moved constantly, but without flow. No rhythm. No timing.Kai walked in with a sack over his shoulder and nothing else. At th
Chapter 223. Smugglers of the Unseen
The alley smelled of damp metal and diesel. Rain dripped from broken panels, pooling in shallow rivulets across cracked pavement.Eren crouched in the shadows, hood pulled low, scanning the street. Digital overlays blinked on his portable terminal, false IDs, projected itineraries, simulated medical records. Everything pointed to a man who didn’t exist. A man who had to move without trace.A convoy waited at the far end: trucks, buses, and old passenger carriers patched with metal plates, their engines quiet beneath tarp coverings. Citizens shuffled in, faces pale and wary. Children clutched makeshift bags, some crying quietly, others staring with blank, calculated calm. Eren moved through them like a ghost, checking manifests, verifying holographic tags, and adjusting one by one.Kai lay beneath a tarp in the last bus, barely stirring. His arm was bandaged, a thick, dark stain running through the cloth. His breathing was shallow but steady. Every so often, he twitched, eyes flicker
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