The private jet cut across the sky like a silver dagger, slicing through clouds on its descent toward Ravenport. Below, dense forests stretched for miles, a thick, green blanket hiding Morrigan’s last stronghold. The landing strip, built discreetly behind a series of abandoned warehouses and guarded by a private militia, was the only visible clue that something significant lurked in these woods. Darwin, seated beside Fiona, stared out the window, his jaw tight. Beside him, Fiona adjusted her black tactical jacket, her eyes hollow with determination. They weren’t flying in with an army. This mission demanded stealth, precision, and a level of danger none of them had faced before. “This isn’t a rescue,” Fiona said quietly. “This is an extraction. We go in, pull what we need, and get out before Morrigan knows we were even there.” Darwin nodded. “We identify what Gabriel Foster is doing there. If he’s meeting Morrigan, we document it. If they’re planning something bigger, we expose it.
The twin engines of the stealth chopper whined softly as it descended beyond the tree line, slicing through the early morning mist like a blade through gauze. Fiona sat strapped in, her fingers curled tightly around the straps across her chest, eyes trained on the satellite feed on the mounted screen in front of her. Davenport wasn’t just a fortress—it was a statement. Built along the edge of a mountainous ridge and shielded by state-of-the-art surveillance, it was the last stronghold of Morrigan’s influence, carved out in steel and secrets. It was also the place where everything had started—and where it would finally end. “We touch down in five,” the pilot’s voice crackled through the headset. “Insertion team, get ready.” Darwin checked the chamber of his pistol and clipped it into place. “Remember, we don’t get a second chance at this. Our window is narrow. Foster’s jet was seen landing fifteen hours ago. We don’t know how long he’ll stay.” “Or what Morrigan’s planning,” Thalass
The halls of the international tribunal were filled with murmurs and media flashes as Morrigan Zayne was escorted through its arched gates in handcuffs, flanked by federal agents. Her posture was upright—chin lifted, spine stiff—but even Fiona could see the cracks beneath the surface. The queen of shadows was finally exposed, her empire in ruins, and her secrets unraveling under the scorching light of justice. Fiona watched from the observation deck above, arms folded as reporters barked questions into the void. Every news station across the globe was tuned into this historic moment. The collapse of the Echelon, the fall of its most enigmatic leader, and the brave few who had torn down its walls. “This almost feels… peaceful,” Fiona said quietly, her voice lost in the buzz of cameras below. Darwin stood beside her, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. “Peace never comes without cost.” She turned to glance at him. His bruises had faded, but his eyes still carried the s
The screen glowed faintly in the dim room, casting long shadows across Fiona’s face. Project Eidolon. The name alone sent a chill down her spine, but it was the word underneath—Ascension—that twisted something deeper in her gut. It didn’t sound like a simple codename. It sounded like a goal. Darwin leaned forward, brows furrowed as he scanned the documents. “These blueprints... this isn’t just tech infrastructure. It’s neurological. Advanced AI integration. Cognitive manipulation.” Marcus tapped through a few files. “This is way beyond anything Morrigan was doing. It’s years ahead—synthetic brain mapping, emotion prediction modules, even something labeled neural override. I don’t even know what that means.” Fiona spoke slowly. “I think it means control.” There was a long silence. Thalassa entered, looking exhausted, her jacket dusted with snow. “Interpol traced the remaining off-grid assets from Morrigan’s empire. Guess where the trail leads?” Fiona braced herself. Thalassa dro
The sun rose over Zurich like a blade of gold slicing through steel-gray clouds. Inside the safe house, the world was still. The boy—Alex—lay curled beneath the thick blanket, his small hands clenched around the edge as if bracing himself for whatever might come next. Fiona stood by the window, watching the street below. There were no sirens. No helicopters. No immediate signs that their extraction had triggered global alarm bells. But the silence itself was suspicious—too calculated, too calm. “They're watching,” she said quietly. Darwin stood behind her, arms crossed. “You think they let us go?” “I think we took a piece they weren’t ready to lose. And now they’re deciding whether to recover it… or erase it.” Darwin’s eyes flicked to Alex’s room. “They built an entire system around him. That chair wasn’t just a monitor—it was a throne. And he was their king.” “No,” Fiona said sharply, turning to face him. “He was a prisoner.” Darwin didn’t argue. Marcus entered the room carr
The night was thick with silence, but beneath it, an unsettling buzz hummed in Fiona's chest. She stood on the balcony of their temporary hideout, her hands gripping the iron railing as if the pressure could somehow steady her racing thoughts. The city sprawled beneath her like a sleeping beast, the lights flickering like distant stars. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, they had breached Morrigan’s stronghold, driven her back into the shadows, and nearly taken down everything she had worked for. Yet, despite the victory, the air felt heavy, like a storm was brewing on the horizon, and it had little to do with the danger still lurking in the wings. Fiona’s mind kept drifting back to Darwin. The last few hours had been a whirlwind—so much action, so much chaos—but the moments that lingered in her mind were the ones shared with him. The quiet ones, when he had let down his guard, and she had seen the man beneath the mask of the CEO. "Fiona?" The low, familiar voice pulled her
The morning after their quiet moment on the balcony, Fiona woke to the distant hum of tension that had become all too familiar. The events of the previous night—the confrontation, the narrow escape from the stronghold—still weighed heavily on her mind. Yet, there was something more pressing now. Their next move, the one that would finally bring them face-to-face with Morrigan, loomed like an unspoken promise. The safe house, typically a place of refuge, now felt like a pressure cooker. Fiona paced the length of the room, her thoughts a whirlwind of strategies and concerns. They had been living on borrowed time for too long. Morrigan had always been one step ahead, controlling the narrative, pulling the strings from the shadows. But now the game has changed. And Fiona wasn’t about to let it slip through their fingers. Darwin’s voice, calm and steady as always, broke the silence. "We need to discuss our next steps." His presence was like an anchor in the storm that raged within her.
The soft hum of fluorescent lights filled the room as Dr. Hamilton glanced at the chart in her hands. She turned to Fiona Woods with a practiced smile, her voice steady yet kind.“Ms. Woods, congratulations. You’re eight weeks pregnant!”The words hit Fiona like a thunderclap. For a moment, she couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The sterile air of the doctor’s office seemed to thicken, pressing down on her chest.“What?” she finally whispered, her voice faint. “Pregnant?”Dr. Hamilton nodded, her smile unwavering but cautious, as if she anticipated resistance. “Yes, eight weeks along.”Fiona’s mind spun. Eight weeks? How could that be?She and Darwin Solomon had always been careful. Painstakingly careful. Memories flitted back to his birthday two months ago. A night that began with champagne and laughter, and ended in a fleeting moment of recklessness. Just once, she reminded herself. It was only once.Her expression must have betrayed her thoughts, because Dr. Hamilton spoke gently. “It’
The morning after their quiet moment on the balcony, Fiona woke to the distant hum of tension that had become all too familiar. The events of the previous night—the confrontation, the narrow escape from the stronghold—still weighed heavily on her mind. Yet, there was something more pressing now. Their next move, the one that would finally bring them face-to-face with Morrigan, loomed like an unspoken promise. The safe house, typically a place of refuge, now felt like a pressure cooker. Fiona paced the length of the room, her thoughts a whirlwind of strategies and concerns. They had been living on borrowed time for too long. Morrigan had always been one step ahead, controlling the narrative, pulling the strings from the shadows. But now the game has changed. And Fiona wasn’t about to let it slip through their fingers. Darwin’s voice, calm and steady as always, broke the silence. "We need to discuss our next steps." His presence was like an anchor in the storm that raged within her.
The night was thick with silence, but beneath it, an unsettling buzz hummed in Fiona's chest. She stood on the balcony of their temporary hideout, her hands gripping the iron railing as if the pressure could somehow steady her racing thoughts. The city sprawled beneath her like a sleeping beast, the lights flickering like distant stars. It was hard to believe that just hours ago, they had breached Morrigan’s stronghold, driven her back into the shadows, and nearly taken down everything she had worked for. Yet, despite the victory, the air felt heavy, like a storm was brewing on the horizon, and it had little to do with the danger still lurking in the wings. Fiona’s mind kept drifting back to Darwin. The last few hours had been a whirlwind—so much action, so much chaos—but the moments that lingered in her mind were the ones shared with him. The quiet ones, when he had let down his guard, and she had seen the man beneath the mask of the CEO. "Fiona?" The low, familiar voice pulled her
The sun rose over Zurich like a blade of gold slicing through steel-gray clouds. Inside the safe house, the world was still. The boy—Alex—lay curled beneath the thick blanket, his small hands clenched around the edge as if bracing himself for whatever might come next. Fiona stood by the window, watching the street below. There were no sirens. No helicopters. No immediate signs that their extraction had triggered global alarm bells. But the silence itself was suspicious—too calculated, too calm. “They're watching,” she said quietly. Darwin stood behind her, arms crossed. “You think they let us go?” “I think we took a piece they weren’t ready to lose. And now they’re deciding whether to recover it… or erase it.” Darwin’s eyes flicked to Alex’s room. “They built an entire system around him. That chair wasn’t just a monitor—it was a throne. And he was their king.” “No,” Fiona said sharply, turning to face him. “He was a prisoner.” Darwin didn’t argue. Marcus entered the room carr
The screen glowed faintly in the dim room, casting long shadows across Fiona’s face. Project Eidolon. The name alone sent a chill down her spine, but it was the word underneath—Ascension—that twisted something deeper in her gut. It didn’t sound like a simple codename. It sounded like a goal. Darwin leaned forward, brows furrowed as he scanned the documents. “These blueprints... this isn’t just tech infrastructure. It’s neurological. Advanced AI integration. Cognitive manipulation.” Marcus tapped through a few files. “This is way beyond anything Morrigan was doing. It’s years ahead—synthetic brain mapping, emotion prediction modules, even something labeled neural override. I don’t even know what that means.” Fiona spoke slowly. “I think it means control.” There was a long silence. Thalassa entered, looking exhausted, her jacket dusted with snow. “Interpol traced the remaining off-grid assets from Morrigan’s empire. Guess where the trail leads?” Fiona braced herself. Thalassa dro
The halls of the international tribunal were filled with murmurs and media flashes as Morrigan Zayne was escorted through its arched gates in handcuffs, flanked by federal agents. Her posture was upright—chin lifted, spine stiff—but even Fiona could see the cracks beneath the surface. The queen of shadows was finally exposed, her empire in ruins, and her secrets unraveling under the scorching light of justice. Fiona watched from the observation deck above, arms folded as reporters barked questions into the void. Every news station across the globe was tuned into this historic moment. The collapse of the Echelon, the fall of its most enigmatic leader, and the brave few who had torn down its walls. “This almost feels… peaceful,” Fiona said quietly, her voice lost in the buzz of cameras below. Darwin stood beside her, hands in his pockets, his expression unreadable. “Peace never comes without cost.” She turned to glance at him. His bruises had faded, but his eyes still carried the s
The twin engines of the stealth chopper whined softly as it descended beyond the tree line, slicing through the early morning mist like a blade through gauze. Fiona sat strapped in, her fingers curled tightly around the straps across her chest, eyes trained on the satellite feed on the mounted screen in front of her. Davenport wasn’t just a fortress—it was a statement. Built along the edge of a mountainous ridge and shielded by state-of-the-art surveillance, it was the last stronghold of Morrigan’s influence, carved out in steel and secrets. It was also the place where everything had started—and where it would finally end. “We touch down in five,” the pilot’s voice crackled through the headset. “Insertion team, get ready.” Darwin checked the chamber of his pistol and clipped it into place. “Remember, we don’t get a second chance at this. Our window is narrow. Foster’s jet was seen landing fifteen hours ago. We don’t know how long he’ll stay.” “Or what Morrigan’s planning,” Thalass
The private jet cut across the sky like a silver dagger, slicing through clouds on its descent toward Ravenport. Below, dense forests stretched for miles, a thick, green blanket hiding Morrigan’s last stronghold. The landing strip, built discreetly behind a series of abandoned warehouses and guarded by a private militia, was the only visible clue that something significant lurked in these woods. Darwin, seated beside Fiona, stared out the window, his jaw tight. Beside him, Fiona adjusted her black tactical jacket, her eyes hollow with determination. They weren’t flying in with an army. This mission demanded stealth, precision, and a level of danger none of them had faced before. “This isn’t a rescue,” Fiona said quietly. “This is an extraction. We go in, pull what we need, and get out before Morrigan knows we were even there.” Darwin nodded. “We identify what Gabriel Foster is doing there. If he’s meeting Morrigan, we document it. If they’re planning something bigger, we expose it.
The early morning light filtered weakly through the grimy windows of the temporary hideout. Fiona sat with her hands wrapped around a steaming mug of black coffee, her eyes fixed on the faded map spread across the wooden table. Red and black ink dotted the surface, indicating strongholds, escape routes, and key players loyal to Morrigan. Each mark told a story of manipulation, violence, and the thin web of power Morrigan spun so precisely. But that web was fraying. Across the room, Darwin leaned over a tablet, reviewing the footage from the hotel. Sofia Laurent was still alive—barely—but she had been moved into protective custody under heavy security. Her one whispered word had shifted the tide. Morrigan had gone from shadowy threat to active executioner in the eyes of those still sitting on the fence. And that changed everything. "They tried to silence her," Fiona said softly, her voice tight. "They almost succeeded." Darwin looked up, his expression grim. "But she didn’t die. A
The morning dawned with an eerie stillness as if the city itself was holding its breath. Fiona stood at the window of their temporary hideout, watching the street below. The sky was overcast, and the light that filtered through the clouds cast everything in a muted, gray tone. It suited her mood. Today wasn’t a day for joy. It was a day for war. Behind her, the room buzzed with movement. Marcus was finishing up a secure line to their new contact in Interpol. Thalassa sat on the floor with maps and surveillance photos spread out around her like a war general preparing for battle. Darwin, quiet and intense, leaned against the wall near the door, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "We’re ready," Marcus finally said, looking up. "The servers have been rigged to release everything if Morrigan tries to interfere with the next stage. Interpol agreed to act once we handed over the package. We just need the final proof—the nail in the coffin." Fiona nodded. "That’s what tonight is for