Nova didn't blink as the screen went dark.
The face of Cal Ghostbyte now still lingered in her mind, older but not hardened enough. He'd forgotten how to trust. Good. That made him predictable.
She leaned back in her chair, the synthetic fiber of her stealth armor groaning faintly with the motion. Around her, the walls of her sanctuary shifted—mechanical shutters humming closed to seal her in darkness. She sat alone, buried beneath Istanbul's crumbling post-industrial sector, in a vault Edenfall had once used as a blacksite.
She hadn't told them she reclaimed it.
She hadn't told anyone.
She reached for a syringe beside her terminal and injected a soft dose of nanite buffer directly into her neck. Her veins shimmered with a faint silver trace. Data spiked across the neural HUD in her vision.
Then, the real screen unfolded.
Not Edenfall. Not Ghostbyte.
But a third interface.
No logos. No sound. Just a pulsing symbol:
☍ LUCENT VEIL: OPERATIVE O7 — AUTHENTICATED
Nova exhaled slowly. The interface came to life with silent overlays maps, DNA strings, facial data, and a countdown ticking in pale red:
T-MINUS 71:42:12 — KESTREL EVENT INITIATION
She'd warned Cal for a reason.
But not to save him.
And definitely not to save Matherson.
She needed them both alive for now.
Her fingers danced over the console, calling up her internal report log. A half-burned message sat at the top:
TO: [REDACTED]
SUBJECT: JAYSON'S SON – INTERFERENCE LEVEL 4
He's more resourceful than predicted. Ghostbyte is shielding him. No sign of Ledger Keys outside the first fragment. Proceeding with triangulation.
Risk of collateral narrative collapse: 27%.
Suggest controlled containment before Day Zero.
She didn't hit send.
Not yet.
Not until she was sure.
Because there was something else.
A whisper she hadn't reported.
Something about Matherson… didn't add up.
Not just his survival. Not just his resistance. His presence. It was like every time he appeared in a surveillance feed, environmental sensors surged by a few microvolts. Not enough for detection. Just enough for suspicion.
He wasn't augmented.
He wasn't enhanced.
But reality around him bent, slightly, the way it used to around...
She shook the thought.
No.
That file was sealed. That program was ended. Or so she had been told.
She stood, crossed the room to a lead-lined drawer, and pulled out a battered photograph. Four people stood smiling in front of a half-constructed server farm. She was one of them. So was Cal.
And between them?
A man in glasses, holding a child barely five years old.
Jayson.
And Matherson.
The photo was dated six months before Jayson's fall.
Six months before Edenfall "discovered" the ledger.
Nova had never connected it before. Never had reason to. But now?
Now she was wondering if Jayson hadn't just encrypted the truth.
Maybe…
Maybe he'd encoded it.
Into his son.
She crushed the photo in her gloved fist.
If that was true if Edenfall was wrong, and Matherson wasn't just a courier of the truth but the container then every faction, every player, was on the wrong board.
And she?
She was the only one who knew it.
Back to Edenfall — Vault Seraphim
Ilsa Revenant reviewed the Nova feed.
Clean.
Compliant.
Predictable.
"Specter's in position," said Director Amari. "She's playing the rogue as expected."
Ilsa gave a tight nod. "And the Kestrel Protocol?"
"72 hours until global sync. Matherson won't make it past 36."
"Good," Ilsa said. "When this is over, wipe Specter."
"Even if she delivers the key sequence?"
"Especially if she does."