The House had always been a machine. It turned on precise timing, a clockwork of codes and protocols. For two weeks, Emil—Elias Kane—had learned every cog, every wheel. Tonight, he would pull one free.
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Preparation
The order came through his terminal just before midnight: a Level 3 maintenance request on the sub-basement servers. He had requested it himself through a forged queue, the perfect cover. While other staff were winding down, Elias walked alone into the depths of the building.
In his pocket was a small silver case. Inside, a device no larger than a matchbox. Noor had once helped him design it years ago, before Marrakesh changed everything. Now he would use it to destroy everything Noor had stood for.
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The Target
On Level B2, the House kept more than servers. It kept people. Secure holding cells for agents compromised in the field. And tonight, in one of those cells, someone Morgana had thought lost was waiting to be moved: Marcus Thayle. Her older brother.
Captured years ago during a failed extraction in Prague, Marcus had been presumed dead. In truth, the House had quietly retrieved him, broken but alive. Adrian had never told Morgana—believing it safer this way. Marcus was being transferred out for debriefing tonight.
Emil knew. He had read every line of Marcus's file.
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Sabotage
In the cold fluorescent corridor, Emil planted the device on the main security hub. Lights flickered. Cameras blinked off for sixty seconds—just enough time.
He walked with casual precision to the holding cell. The guards had gone to investigate the power fluctuation, leaving the door unmonitored.
Marcus was sitting on the cot, gaunt and pale, his eyes distant. He barely looked up when the door opened.
"Who are you?" Marcus asked.
"A ghost," Emil said softly.
Before Marcus could speak again, Emil lifted a suppressed pistol. A single shot echoed like a whisper.
Marcus fell back, eyes wide, a red bloom spreading across his chest. Emil stepped forward, placing something in Marcus's lifeless hand—a single chess piece, a black king.
Then he was gone, slipping back into the shadows as the lights came alive again.
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The Discovery
Minutes later, alarms blared. Guards swarmed. The cameras came back online just in time to see Marcus's lifeless body on the floor.
By the time Morgana reached the sub-basement, she was too late.
Her eyes locked on the body. The world tilted. She moved forward, dropping to her knees, pulling Marcus's head into her lap. Her brother. The one she had buried in her heart years ago. Alive all this time—and now truly gone.
Her hands trembled as she saw the black king in his palm.
"No," she whispered. "No, no, no…"
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The Fallout
Adrian stood behind her, grim-faced. "We had him. We were going to tell you. Emil knew. Somehow, he knew exactly when to strike."
Morgana turned, her face a storm. "There's a mole. There's no question now. And I swear to you—whoever did this, I will find them. I will burn them out of these walls."
The other agents exchanged uneasy glances. If Emil could kill inside their most secure levels, no one was safe.
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The Unseen Smile
Later, in a quiet maintenance corridor, Emil removed his gloves and washed his hands in a utility sink. The water ran red, then clear. He dried his hands, put his gloves back on, and looked into the mirror.
Elias Kane looked back.
He smiled.
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The War Has Started
In the war room, the Director called for a full lockdown. "No one leaves. No one enters. The mole is inside."
Morgana stood apart, the chess piece tight in her fist.
The game had changed. It wasn't a hunt anymore. It was a war. And she had just lost the only family she had left.