The fortune's deadline

chapter 8: rekindled alliance

The night Malik betrayed him, the city didn’t sleep. Neon bled across the puddles, and Jason walked without feeling his feet. Every light seemed to whisper a different version of his failure.

He had given everything — his last days, his last strength — to a cause meant to outlive him. And now, before dawn, the fund that carried his name was about to vanish into the same dark that had taken his parents.

He stopped at a bridge and stared down at the black water. The cross against his chest glowed faint red, like a heartbeat that didn’t trust itself.

> INTEGRITY BREACH DETECTED

ACCOUNT COLLAPSE IN 06 HOURS

Jason’s reflection trembled in the water. “Why do you keep giving me hope just to take it back?”

The screen flickered once more:

> Resolve Test Active.

He laughed under his breath. “Then watch me resolve.”

He turned from the bridge and headed toward the one place he swore never to go again — the glass tower of V Industries, Victor’s domain. If Malik worked for Victor, maybe the damage hadn’t been done yet. Maybe he could still stop it.

The lobby guards didn’t know his name, but they knew his look: desperation. Before they could speak, he was already through the turnstile, sprinting for the elevator.

The 30th floor smelled of polished stone and deceit. Victor wasn’t there, but someone else was waiting — a woman in a gray coat, holding a folder against her chest.

“Jason,” she whispered.

He froze.

“Stephanie.”

The past came back in fragments: red heels, laughter, betrayal behind a hotel door.

She stepped closer. “I heard about your project. You have to leave now. Victor’s cleaning house — he’s erasing everything that connects to you.”

Jason’s voice was gravel. “Including Malik?”

She hesitated, and that tiny pause told him everything.

“You knew.”

“No,” she said quickly. “Not until last night. He’s been working for Victor’s finance branch. I didn’t know he was planted near you.”

He wanted to hate her again, to spit the word liar and walk away. But the screen on the cross pulsed — 5 hours 45 minutes left — and hate took time he didn’t have.

“Then help me stop him,” he said.

Her eyes widened. “After what I did to you?”

“I’m not forgiving you,” he said. “I’m trying to survive

---

They found refuge in an old café two blocks away, lights off, blinds drawn. Stephanie spread papers across the table — banking logs, routing numbers, a map of the fund’s transaction web.

“Victor’s using shell accounts,” she explained. “When Malik triggered the collapse command, the system started rerouting the donations into dummy charities. By morning they’ll be gone.”

Jason scanned the printouts. “How do we stop it?”

She swallowed hard. “You’ll have to override from the parent node. It’s inside Victor’s private server. And you’ll need two access keys.”

“Who has them?”

She looked down. “Victor… and me.”

Jason stared. “You kept your key?”

“I kept my guilt,” she said softly. “The key came with it.”

---

03:58 a.m.

They broke into the building through the underground parking lot. Rainwater dripped through vents; the elevator hummed above them like a heartbeat they couldn’t reach.

Stephanie led him to a service tunnel that smelled of rust and ozone. “Server room’s through here. But there’s a biometric lock. It’ll read both our palms.”

Jason pressed the cross in his pocket. “You sure about this?”

“No,” she said. “But I owe you after all I did to you and because I still care about you

Inside, blue light pulsed from hundreds of towers stacked like frozen thunder. Cables snaked across the floor. Jason moved toward the central console; Stephanie stayed near the door, trembling.

He inserted his own digital key — a token generated by the cross.

> Key 1 accepted. Awaiting Key 2.

She pressed her palm to the scanner.

> Key 2 accepted.

Lines of code cascaded down the main screen. The cross on Jason’s chest flared.

> Integrity Protocol Unlocked. Restore? Y/N

He hit Y.

The servers roared. Data poured backward through networks like a tide reversing course. He watched in disbelief as the numbers on the hologram shifted from red to green.

> Funds Restored — $487 000 VALID.

Task Reinstated. Time Remaining: 1 hour 14 min.

He turned to Stephanie. “We did it.”

She smiled — weary, almost peaceful. “Not yet. Victor won’t—”

The door burst open.

Malik stood there, drenched from rain, a pistol shaking in his hand. His once-calm eyes were frantic.

“Step away from the console.”

Jason raised his hands slowly. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Victor said you’d say that,” Malik hissed. “He said you’d use pity like a weapon.”

Jason took one step forward. “He lied to you too. You think he’ll share the money?”

“Shut up!”

The gun trembled. Stephanie inched sideways, her hand brushing a loose power cable on the floor.

Jason saw her intent in her eyes — the same reckless fire he’d once loved. He nodded almost imperceptibly.

She yanked the cable free and sparks erupted. The lights died.

Gunfire cracked once, twice.

When the emergency lights blinked back on, Malik lay sprawled beside the console, the gun sliding from his grasp. Stephanie was on her knees, clutching her arm, blood trickling between her fingers.

Jason dropped beside her. “Stay with me.”

She forced a smile. “You said you wouldn’t forgive me.”

“I didn’t,” he whispered. “But I need you alive to argue about it.”

He pressed her wound, eyes darting to the cross as it glowed brilliant gold.

> Task Complete. +15 Days Granted.

He exhaled in relief—then the glow darkened, the screen flooding with new text:

> Legacy Phase Initiated.

All Shared Fates Linked.

If one fails, both reset.

Jason stared at the words. “What does that mean?”

Stephanie’s breath came shallow. “It means… we’re bound now.”

He felt the pulse of the cross split into two beams, one sinking into his chest, the other into hers. The lights dimmed; alarms wailed somewhere far above.

Malik groaned, half-conscious, whispering a name that chilled Jason’s blood.

“Father… he said the son would understand.”

Jason froze. “What did you say?”

Malik’s eyes rolled back, but his last words cut through the sirens.

“Victor… your father.”

The world tilted. The servers blurred. The cross flickered between red and gold.

Stephanie’s voice was faint. “Jason… what did he mean?”

He couldn’t answer. He could only stare at the trembling light on the floor, realizing that the fight for time had never been against fate — it had always been against blood.

Outside, dawn began to bleed through the clouds, washing the city in pale light that felt nothing like hope.