2025-06-30 20:52:05The call ended, and silence returned to the war room, but Kai’s pulse roared in his ears like a war drum.
He stood slowly, fingers brushing the cold silver nameplate. His name. His chair. His empire.
Thorne stepped beside him, arms behind his back. “You handled them better than expected.”
Kai didn’t answer. Instead, he turned to the screen still displaying the last face, the woman in red lipstick.
Her eyes were sharp as glass, her smile smooth as silk. She had said her name was Valencia Calderón, from Madrid. Oil. Arms. Influence.
“I want a file on everyone from that call,” Kai said.
“It’s already printed.”
“And that woman. Valencia. What’s her angle?”
“She was your grandfather’s ally… and rival. They played the game well. Sometimes together. Sometimes against each other.”
Kai narrowed his eyes. “She smiled at me like she already planned my funeral.”
Thorne nodded slightly. “She likely has.”
Hours later, Kai walked the grand halls alone. He wasn’t used to silence this big. The kind of quiet you could drown in.
At one point, he passed a painting taller than a car , a portrait of Lucian Everhart, painted in dark strokes. Cold blue eyes. A hand resting on a golden lion’s head.
Kai stopped. “I never met you,” he whispered to the painting. “But you left me a war.”
As if in response, the power flickered, just for a second. Then a soft ding.
Thorne’s voice echoed from a wall intercom: “Sir, the legacy seal is ready. Come to the atrium.”
The atrium looked like something out of a cathedral: marble floors, golden light spilling through massive stained-glass windows, and at the center, a pedestal with a black velvet cloth over something round.
Kai approached slowly. Thorne waited beside it, along with an older woman with icy white hair and thick glasses.
She bowed her head. “Mr. Everhart. I am Dr. Lynette Vael. Head of Internal Archives.”
“Archives?” Kai asked.
“This isn’t just a company. It’s a sovereign entity with assets, alliances, and secrets that span continents and decades. Your grandfather created a hidden directive, one that only his heir may access. It is sealed… here.”
She lifted the velvet cloth. Underneath sat a circular device, gold and obsidian, with the Everhart crest engraved in the center, a lion with three eyes, holding a key and a flame.
“Place your hand on the seal,” Dr. Vael instructed. “It will bind only to you. Once activated, it opens every door.”
Kai hesitated. “What kind of doors?” he asked.
“Literal,” she said. “And... not.”
He placed his hand on the seal. A pulse of warmth traveled up his arm. The device glowed faintly, then emitted a soft mechanical click. Hidden panels in the atrium walls opened with a hiss.
One revealed a safe full of passports, keys, and cash in over 12 currencies.
Another showed surveillance feeds, from cities, airports, foreign offices. Some of the footage was… illegal. Definitely illegal.
But it was the final door that took his breath. A staircase spiraling down into darkness. Cold air drifted up like a breath from the underworld.
Thorne said nothing. Neither did Dr. Vael. Kai stepped forward. “Where does it lead?”
Dr. Vael replied simply, “To the vault.”
“And what’s in the vault?”
Thorne answered this time. “The truth.”
He didn’t descend. Not yet. His head was spinning. Instead, he returned to the lounge and sat in front of the fireplace, glass of whiskey untouched beside him.
His mind replayed the last 24 hours like a broken film reel: insulted, laughed at, fired... then crowned.
But something itched in the back of his brain. ‘Why now? Why did they wait all these years?’
He picked up the silver ring from the box and examined the inside. There were numbers engraved inside the band: C5-A82-VL. He looked up sharply. C5. The restricted door.
He stood up and called out, “Thorne!”
No answer. The mansion was quiet. Too quiet. He made his way to Chamber 5.
The door was locked with a biometric scanner. He pressed the ring to it on a hunch.
Beep. Green light. The door slid open. Inside was a small, sterile room, walls of silver, a pedestal in the center. On it, a simple folder and a photo frame.
The photo made his heart stop. It was his mother. Younger. Smiling. Holding a newborn.
In the background, half-shadowed… stood Lucian Everhart. Kai’s jaw clenched.
He picked up the folder. TOP SECRET , LEVEL VL CLEARANCE. Subject: Project Lazarus. Status: Inactive. Reactivation authorized only by direct heir.
“Project... Lazarus?” What had his family been hiding?
Why did he have clearance for something his grandfather never activated? And why did his gut scream that this was not just business, but something far more dangerous?
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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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