The sky bled shades of burnt crimson as Elena stood on the rooftop of the old cathedral, the cold wind whipping through her hair like the fury that boiled beneath her skin. Below, the city sprawled like a sleeping beast, unaware that its darkest secrets were about to be unearthed.
She clutched the envelope tighter in her gloved hand. It had arrived anonymously that morning—no return address, only her name scrawled in delicate ink across the front. Inside, a single photograph: her mother, standing beside the man who'd supposedly died fifteen years ago.
Aiden.
No… not Aiden. The man beside her mother was older, with eyes too familiar to mistake. The resemblance was undeniable. And now everything Elena thought she knew about her father, about the accident, about her entire bloodline—it was all unraveling.
She didn't hear Lara approach until her voice sliced through the air. "You're not going to jump, are you?"
Elena turned, not startled, only tired. "Not today."
Lara stepped closer, wrapping her coat tighter. "The others are waiting at the safe house. You shouldn't be here alone."
"I had to see it. I needed… confirmation." She held out the photo.
Lara took it, her eyes narrowing as she examined the faces. "Is that…?"
"My father," Elena whispered. "Alive. And standing with my mother three weeks before her death."
Lara let out a slow breath. "This changes everything."
"No," Elena said, voice tightening. "This explains everything."
Back at the safe house, the mood was tense. Caleb paced the length of the room, muttering calculations under his breath while Mira scanned satellite images for unusual activity near Sector 4. The others watched Elena as she entered, the photograph now crumpled in her pocket.
"I know who's behind this," she said without preamble. "And I know why we've been targeted."
A hush fell over the room.
"Say it," Caleb said. "We deserve to know."
Elena looked around at the faces that had become her second family. "My father is alive. And he's the architect of the entire Obsidian Protocol."
Gasps. A chair scraped loudly against the floor.
"That's not possible," Mira said. "He died in the explosion. The files confirmed it."
"They were faked," Elena replied. "All of it. The reports, the forensics, the burial. He faked his death to go underground and build this network."
Lara crossed her arms. "So what now? You going to face him?"
"I'm going to end it."
The next night, under the cover of darkness, the team infiltrated one of the abandoned research facilities Elena had traced from the photo's metadata. It was silent, eerie, like the bones of a long-dead beast. But something pulsed in the air—an energy, a hum, like the place wasn't quite asleep.
Aiden appeared on a screen in the control room, his voice distorted.
"Elena. You've found me."
She stepped forward. "Why?"
"For survival. For evolution. You don't understand the stakes—"
"You faked your death. Lied to us. Let mom die."
"She chose to die. She knew the price."
Tears welled up, but Elena didn't let them fall. "And now you want to play god?"
"I am god, Elena. I built this world. And soon, the old one will burn."
"Then I'll be the one to light the match."
The countdown began. Explosives planted. Doors sealed.
This would be the beginning of the end.
And the ashes they carried… would either bury them, or set them free.