Aurora’s POVThe estate was gone.The sky behind us burned, thick smoke rising like a funeral pyre. Damien’s entire world had just been reduced to ash.But he didn’t flinch.He drove with a steady hand, eyes locked on the darkened road ahead. No hesitation. No second-guessing.I, on the other hand, couldn’t stop shaking.The blood on my hands had dried, but I could still feel its warmth. The weight of what I had done—**what I had become—**pressed on my chest like an iron cage.I had killed a man.And I would do it again.Because if I didn’t, we wouldn’t survive.The SafehouseDamien drove us deep into the mountains, to a cabin hidden far from the main roads.I expected it to be abandoned, but as we approached, a figure stepped out from the shadows.Leo.Damien’s most trusted man.He had a rifle in hand, his expression unreadable.“You’re late,” he muttered. “We thought you were dead.”Damien stepped out of the car, his face unreadable. “Not yet.”Leo exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting
Aurora’s POVThe fire raged behind us, turning the sky into an inferno of reds and oranges.The warehouse was gone.So was Elias.At least, that’s what Damien wanted to believe.But I had seen it.That shadow, slipping into the night. The way the flames flickered just enough to reveal a figure retreating from the wreckage.Elias wasn’t dead.And if he wasn’t dead, that meant he was still playing the game.The RetreatLeo led us away from the burning site, his expression grim. “We need to move. Cops will be here any second.”Damien barely reacted. He stood still, watching the flames, as if willing Elias to be inside them.I grabbed his hand. “Damien.”His fingers curled around mine, his grip like a vice. Then, without a word, he turned.We left the destruction behind.The SafehouseIt was nearly dawn when we reached the safehouse.Leo’s team was already inside, patching up wounds and refueling.Damien barely looked at them. He walked straight to the back room, hands braced against the
Aurora’s POVThe night was finally silent.No more gunfire.No more screams.Just the distant crackling of dying flames, the scent of blood and smoke clinging to the cold air.Elias was dead.It should have felt like victory.But as I stood beside Damien, staring at his lifeless body, I didn’t feel relief.I felt empty.Damien exhaled slowly, lowering his gun. He stared at Elias’s corpse as if waiting for him to rise again.But this time, there would be no escape.Leo approached, his gun still in hand, his face a mask of exhaustion. “It’s over.”Damien didn’t react. His hands were still clenched. His muscles still tight.I reached for him, pressing my palm against his forearm. “Damien.”His jaw tensed. But then, slowly, he turned his gaze to me.And in his eyes, I saw it—The weight of everything.Years of war. Years of chasing ghosts.And now, finally, the ghost was gone.So why didn’t it feel like peace?The AftermathLeo’s men moved swiftly, securing the warehouse.Ronan was taken
Damien’s POVElias was dead.It should have meant freedom.But all I felt was empty.The night was unnervingly quiet. The kind of silence that followed devastation.I stood on the rooftop of the safehouse, watching the city wake beneath the faint light of dawn. Smoke still lingered in the distance, remnants of the war that had finally ended.At least, that’s what they all said.But wars don’t end. They change shape. They take new forms.And in their wake, they leave ghosts.I was made of ghosts.The door behind me creaked open. I didn’t turn, but I knew who it was.Aurora.She didn’t say anything at first, just stepped up beside me, wrapping my jacket tighter around herself.Her presence was steady. Grounding.And yet, it didn’t stop the storm in my head.“I thought it would feel different,” I murmured.She glanced at me. “What?”“Victory.”She was silent for a long moment before she exhaled softly. “That’s because this wasn’t a victory.”I turned to her then, searching her face.She
Damien’s POVThe past does not let go easily.Even after death, Elias’s influence lingered.Even after truth, my father’s betrayal burned.But Aurora was right about one thing—I had to rebuild.And that meant confronting the ghosts instead of running from them.I just didn’t expect them to come knocking so soon.Unfinished BusinessThe safehouse was running on minimal personnel now. Most of the men had been sent to secure our remaining assets, and those who stayed were recovering from the battle.Aurora sat across from me in the dimly lit study, her gaze steady. She hadn’t left my side since last night.I wasn’t sure if it was for my sake or hers.“I need to go back to the estate,” I said finally.Aurora’s expression didn’t change. “You’re not ready.”I clenched my jaw. “I don’t have a choice.”“Damien—”“There’s still work to do.”Her lips pressed together in frustration. “And when will it ever be done?”I exhaled sharply, leaning forward. “Elias might be dead, but his network isn’t.
Damien’s POVSome wars never end.Elias was dead, but his death had only opened another door.And standing behind that door was a man I did not know. A man who had been watching. Waiting.I had spent my life believing Elias was the final obstacle. That once he was gone, I would be free.But my father’s letter proved otherwise.Elias was only the beginning.And now? Now the real enemy was stepping out of the shadows.A Name from the PastLeo and I sat in the surveillance room, the footage of the mystery man looping on the screen.His face was sharp, aristocratic, almost too perfect. His suit was tailored to perfection, not a single crease out of place. He exuded confidence.No, not confidence.Control.“This guy,” Leo muttered. “I don’t like him.”I didn’t either.Aurora crossed her arms, her gaze locked on the screen. “If he wanted to kill you, he could have attacked. Instead, he just… showed up.”“He wanted us to see him,” I said.Leo nodded grimly. “So who the hell is he?”I turned
Damien’s POVThe card sat on my desk, the inked king staring back at me.Welcome to the game.A chill ran down my spine.Cassian Moreau wasn’t just sending a message—he was staking a claim.And I wasn’t about to let him.I picked up the card, my fingers tightening around the edges. Then, without a word, I tossed it into the fireplace and watched the flames eat it alive.Leo stood near the door, arms crossed, tension rolling off him in waves. “What’s the move?”Aurora sat on the armrest of the leather chair, watching me carefully. She had barely spoken since last night, but her eyes told me everything.She was waiting.For the storm.For me.I turned to Leo. “We dig. I want every file, every trace of Moreau’s operations. If he’s been hiding in the shadows, someone knows where.”Leo nodded sharply and left without another word.Aurora finally spoke, her voice soft but firm. “And what if you don’t like what you find?”I met her gaze. “Then I burn it.”Shadows of the PastAn hour later, I
Damien’s POVThe warehouse was dimly lit, the overhead bulbs flickering like dying stars. The air smelled of oil, metal, and anticipation.Leo leaned against a rusted steel table, arms crossed. “You’re seriously considering going in alone?”I glanced at the blueprints spread across the surface—Moreau’s known locations, his operations, his weak points.“I don’t have a choice.”Leo exhaled sharply. “You always have a choice.”He wasn’t wrong. But I also knew that some choices came at a cost.Aurora stepped into the room then, her presence shifting the air. She was dressed in black, her eyes dark with exhaustion.She walked right up to me, arms crossed. “I’m coming with you.”I met her gaze. “No, you’re not.”Her jaw tightened. “Damien—”“This isn’t up for discussion.”Her fingers curled into fists. “You’re walking straight into his hands.”“I know.”Silence stretched between us, the kind that spoke of battles neither of us wanted to fight.Leo cleared his throat. “Look, Moreau has the u
The silence grew heavier the deeper they went.Null’s map guided them through a maze of subterranean halls—some cold and sterile, others torn by time and disuse. The smooth hum of generators still echoed in places, interspersed by flickering emergency lights that bathed the world in sickly red pulses.Damien led the way with Aurora and Asher close at his heels. The boy in the containment pod had given them everything—coordinates, access routes, and warnings. Seraph wasn’t like Daemon or Omega.He was worse.“Bio-signature locked,” Null murmured, eyes on the scanner as they reached another sealed door. “There’s something down there. No readable vitals, but movement… constant. Pacing, almost.”“He’s waiting,” Aurora said.Asher’s small voice cut in, soft but certain. “He doesn’t think. He reacts. He was made to become… everything they wanted me to be.”Damien knelt beside him. “You don’t have to face this.”Asher looked up. “I do. If we don’t stop him, he’ll come for us. For others.”Au
The elevator doors closed with a reluctant groan, sealing them in.Inside the narrow shaft, the only light came from their tactical gear—soft glows against skin and metal. Aurora stood beside Damien, her hand brushing against his, an anchor in the silence. Asher stood between them, staring straight ahead, lips pressed into a thin, focused line.The descent felt longer than it should have. As if the very walls were stretching around them—preparing to swallow them whole.Then the lift jolted to a stop.A hiss of depressurization followed. The doors slid open with a groan, revealing a corridor bathed in cold white light. Clean. Too clean. The sterile scent of disinfectant and ozone clung to the air like a ghost.“This is it,” Null said quietly. “The Core Lab.”They stepped out as one.Unlike the upper floors, this level was pristine. Not abandoned. Not even neglected. Lights functioned. Doors responded to biometric scans. Cameras followed their every move, some still tracking with soft c
The sun dipped low, setting fire to the horizon in hues of crimson and ash. From the ridge above the temporary camp, Damien stood alone, watching shadows stretch over the forest like fingers reaching for something they could never quite hold.Below him, the others prepared in near silence. The kind of silence that didn’t come from fear—but from knowing. From understanding just how close they were to the end.The wind curled around him, carrying the scent of pine and steel and something colder. A storm was coming. Not of weather—but of reckoning.“You always find the highest place when you need to think.”He didn’t turn. He didn’t need to.Aurora’s voice always settled beneath his skin like a familiar hum—gentle and steady.She stepped up beside him, hands tucked into the sleeves of her jacket, her gaze following his to the horizon.“You used to be quieter,” he said. “Before all this.”“I used to have more to be afraid of,” she replied, half-smiling. “Now I just have more to lose.”He
The boy didn’t speak of the dream again.But something in him shifted after that night. His steps were a little steadier. His gaze no longer darted to the exits first. He stayed near Damien, yes, but not like a shadow clinging to light. Now, it felt like a tether, an anchor—not dependence, but choice.Damien noticed it when they trained in the clearing behind the safehouse. The boy followed directions without flinching, without looking over his shoulder every five seconds like he expected Monroe to appear from behind the trees. And when Kai handed him a blade—not sharp, just a practice knife—he held it with the curiosity of someone discovering a piece of themselves.“What do we call him?” Eli
The morning sunlight felt wrong.Too bright. Too open.After days in the Hollow’s synthetic twilight, Damien squinted at the skyline like it was some forgotten relic. The world outside was still broken, scarred by everything Monroe had built, but out here—beneath real sky—it felt like breathing for the first time in weeks.They moved through the forest trail in silence, Aurora walking beside Damien, the child—now clothed in a borrowed jacket and boots too large—staying close to Damien’s side like a shadow tethered to light.No name.No past.
The air inside the chamber thickened as the hum of the cryopod deepened, soft lights tracing across its surface like veins awakening after a long slumber. Damien stood with his hand hovering just above the control panel, eyes locked on the boy within. A-00.The child who shouldn’t exist.The child who had been discarded—forgotten—yet had outlived the project meant to replace him.Aurora touched Damien’s arm gently. “Are you ready?”He didn’t answer right away. His gaze was still fixed on the boy’s face. So young, so still. Yet somehow, it felt like staring into a mirror that refused to reflect.
The helicopter blades sliced through the Ural sky like a warning.Beneath them, the forest spread like a sea of frozen pine and fractured stone, untouched and unwelcoming. The coordinates Null had provided pointed to a narrow canyon—its jagged sides veined with ice and shadow—where no human path should've ever led.Damien sat beside Aurora, eyes locked on the narrowing terrain below. The cold had begun to seep in through the insulated layers, but it wasn’t the temperature that clenched his gut.It was the silence.Even at this altitude, the absence of wildlife was unnerving.As if nature itself refused to brea
The wind had changed by morning.Geneva’s neutral calm felt different now—like something sacred had been disturbed beneath its manicured stillness. The team gathered in the briefing room of the underground complex, still shaken from what they’d uncovered the night before: Damien’s prototype—Subject A-01-D—and the fractured remnants of Monroe’s last vault of secrets.No one spoke for a long while.Elias was the first to break the silence. “So what now? We’ve seen the start of it. That clone—your prototype—it changes everything. Doesn’t it?”Null nodded slowly, pacing. “It suggests Monroe’s e
The flight into Geneva was cloaked in silence and tension. Null sat across from Damien and Aurora, his fingers flying across his datapad as he decoded the fragmented files Seraph had left behind. The others barely spoke—each of them gripped by what lay ahead.Damien watched the mountains vanish beneath the clouds through the aircraft window. He could feel Aurora’s quiet presence beside him. Their fingers weren’t intertwined this time, but their shoulders touched, and that alone grounded him more than anything else could.Geneva greeted them with muted skies and chill winds. The neutral zone was a far cry from the war-torn hideouts they’d grown used to—orderly, pristine, quiet. But underneath that perfection lurked something far older than secrecy: erasure.They descended into the depths of a government facility disguised as an old weather station. It took Null several bypasses, retina scans, and an override code embedded in one of Seraph’s final neural threads to breach the security l