**A Cruel Act of Charity**
Sterling's counterattack was inevitable. Julian had been preparing for a hostile corporate takeover or an attack by armed mercenaries, but the threat arrived in a much more insidious and devastating form: a sickeningly brilliant act of charity.
Sterling suddenly and publicly announced a massive, international donation: the creation of the Soo-Jin Rhodes Grant for East Asian Art History. This gesture was one of deep, undeniable public grace and extravagant generosity, yet it was chillingly cruel in its political finesse. It was a perfect, crushing ethical checkmate that instantly paralyzed Eliza.
Her younger sister, Soo-Jin, an innocent scholar pursuing a genuine, long-held academic dream, was now transformed into an untouchable hostage. She was draped in a flawless shield of corporate legitimacy and a wave of worldwide gratitude for Sterling's kindness.
To pull Soo-Jin out of the grant's orbit now would mean destroying her burgeoning career. It would irreversibly confirm every nasty rumor Director Cho had been spreading about her in academic circles. Eliza would have to sacrifice her sister's entire professional future for a terrifying, dimensional secret she could never explain to any rational person. Trying to explain the Link would only confirm the existing suspicions of her complete psychological instability.
**The Ethical Trap**
Eliza was hit by a devastating, raw feeling of profound helplessness. This cold, sharp, paralyzing panic was a brutal contrast to the lingering, controlled heat of Julian's anger she had channeled in their last link. She immediately recognized the impossible ethical singularity of the trap.
Julian's specialized digital architecture team quickly identified the situation as a "human firewall"—a psychological obstacle they couldn't penetrate without triggering a massive, debilitating public outcry. This was precisely the social and political power Sterling planned to use to secure the Fates' Anchor without any interference.
She knew, with frightening, undeniable certainty, the inevitable next move. It was the single fatal trajectory she had only glimpsed in fragmented, anxious flashes during the early phases of the Link. Soo-Jin, the unwitting academic, would be professionally and seamlessly guided by Sterling's smiling, completely respectable contacts. They would take her to the remote, long-abandoned family cabin on the rugged, dark side of Jeju Island.
The purpose? To seek out a specific, forgotten cultural relic for her legitimate, funded research—specifically, a fragile, leather-bound journal. That journal contained the specific, ancient, pre-Sumerian key to locating the Stone's subterranean position. Sterling was using her to do his dirty work, making it look like legitimate academic discovery.
**The Desperate Plunge**
The timeline was now an agonizing, crushing reality. They had mere hours, perhaps less, before the key was compromised and the final extraction of the Anchor began. They had no choice. They absolutely had to take a second, devastating plunge into the Link's destructive, corrosive current. They refused to wait for random chance to save them.
Eliza urgently demanded a sudden, paralyzing spike of absolute rage from Julian. She needed the raw, consuming, necessary psychic fire that fueled his own ruthless drive for total, unassailable control. She was intentionally forcing the emotional equivalent of a nuclear reactor core meltdown.
"We throw out all pretense of mutual support," she commanded, her voice terrifyingly flat and devoid of warmth. She was focused entirely on urgent, overriding tactical necessity, not personal feeling. "Give me the moment of your deepest, most profound entitlement," she demanded, specifying the exact psychic currency she needed. "The feeling that the world, the market, the entire system owed you everything, and that your uncle stole it anyway. A violation of a cosmic contract. I need that pure fire, Julian. I need the precise geospatial coordinates of the rendezvous, the exact minute that intermediary is scheduled to meet her."
Julian completely understood the irreversible psychological cost of willingly giving up this specific, defining moment of his formative fury. That defining moment built the Titan empire, and he knew the price. He didn't hesitate.
He yanked out the feeling: the raw, corrosive arrogance of a betrayed boy who thought the world belonged to him. The sudden, sharp, bitter taste of inherited power turned to literal ash in his mouth when his uncle, Robert, casually and irrevocably betrayed him. He projected the absolute, arrogant belief in his own intrinsic rightness, violated by a calculated act of corporate treachery. It was an emotional injection that was pure, searing, an exposed, vibrating nerve ending.
Eliza's prepared, professional mind momentarily buckled under the sheer, debilitating weight of his profound, youthful, aristocratic sense of violation and betrayal. The pain was immense. But in that millisecond of shared, agonizing consciousness, the terrifying future vision suddenly cracked open and resolved with brutal, undeniable specificity:
• Jeju Island.
• The exact grid coordinates of the old cabin's foundation.
• Soo-Jin standing there holding the specific leather-bound book.
• The intermediary waiting patiently in the shadows near the coastline, already anticipating the flight's arrival.
The precise destination was confirmed. The terrifying, final, desperate race instantly began, their shared fate accelerating violently toward them with the unstoppable momentum of a black hole.
**The Ghost-in-the-Machine Delay**
Julian's private security and digital infrastructure were instantly, simultaneously mobilized. A silent, unseen, highly effective force began moving with surgical precision to execute the Ghost-in-the-Machine Delay.
This involved injecting a series of cascading, minor 'technical faults' directly into the island's air traffic control and commercial flight scheduling systems. It was a subtle, untraceable disruption designed to delay Soo-Jin's commercial flight by a single, precious hour. This fleeting tactical breath was intended only to buy the critical time necessary to beat Sterling's operatives to the Fates' Anchor itself.
Their analysis of Sterling's strategy was confirmed: he would allow Soo-Jin to legitimately find the Anchor's location, essentially using her as an undetectable, ethically clean delivery system, before swooping in to collect the prize. This confirmed the monstrous elegance of his planning; his hands would remain legally and ethically spotless.
Now, sitting side-by-side in the rapidly ascending private jet, the deafening roar of the engines provided a temporary, fragile shield against the Link's high-pitched, anticipatory whine. Julian and Eliza understood that the rules of engagement had fundamentally altered. They were no longer simply defending their existence; they were launching a desperate, calculated, irreversible assault on the very concept of Sterling's future. They weren't racing against time, but against destiny slamming shut.
They were ready for the fight because they'd learned to take Julian's crushing anger and in a brutal trade forge it into Eliza's cold strategy, making their pain the currency of survival. They had crossed the ultimate ethical boundary. There was only one imperative left: winning at any cost. They were ready to sacrifice everything for victory.