Location: Global Map – Dominion Surveillance Feed
The red dots spread like a viral infestation.
In Tokyo, a janitor at a biotech firm blinked rapidly, paused mid-swipe of a mop, and slowly stood upright. His posture shifted unnaturally. He touched the back of his neck, pressing something embedded beneath the skin. His eyes turned blank.
In Berlin, a retired violinist placed her instrument gently in its case, then walked to her cellar, revealing an armory buried beneath layers of concrete.
In Johannesburg, a traffic officer suddenly froze, glanced up at the sky, and whispered, "Protocol received."
One by one, they awakened.
Not with fanfare.
With purpose.
These weren't ordinary people—they were engineered ghosts from decades ago. Lost identities. Stolen lives. The Forgotten Protocol had reactivated them.
And they all had one target: the team who initiated the purge.
---
Location: Citadel Vault – Emergency War Room
Sirens wailed across every terminal in the vault as Echo scrambled to redirect Dominion's remaining satellites to monitor the reactivations.
"We underestimated the scale," she muttered, her fingers flying across the keyboard. "There are hundreds... no, thousands."
Zina looked over her shoulder. "How long before they come for us?"
"Some within hours. Others might take days to regroup. But they will come."
Nora stood, calmer than before. "Then we take the offensive. We don't hide. We expose them."
Damien, reviewing the map, spoke with cold determination. "We'll need allies. Not just fighters—but people willing to take down networks in their cities."
Zina raised a brow. "You mean civilians?"
"I mean believers," Damien replied. "Anyone who's ever lost something to Dominion's lies. Anyone who wants to reclaim their country, their world."
---
Location: Underground Bunker – Northern Tavara
Victor Kane watched the feed on a secure monitor. The purge had gone live. And the Forgotten Protocol had been triggered.
"So… they pulled the lever," he said to no one in particular.
Behind him, three men in black stood at attention. Their eyes didn't blink. Their veins glowed faintly blue—traces of the Dominion enhancements in their blood.
Victor leaned back in his chair. "Prepare for deployment. But hold fire."
One of them finally spoke. "We are to eliminate the source, are we not?"
Victor smiled faintly. "No. Not yet. Let them clean the mess they awakened. We'll join the endgame, not the battle. Nora Wycliffe will either survive and reveal everything, or die, and become a martyr. Either way—we'll have the upper hand."
He stood and adjusted his coat.
"The world is about to burn. Let's make sure we're the ones holding the fireproof gloves."
---
Location: Citadel Vault – Armory Level
The team geared up—each with their own routine. Zina checked every knife and every bullet. Echo downloaded encrypted files to a private drive. Damien cleaned his father's old sidearm in silence.
And Nora... she stood before the old Dominion mirror, no longer seeing a mystery.
Just a woman who would fight.
"Let's end this," she said, turning to the others.
And so began the final war between truth and control.
Between legacy... and freedom.