The hum of helicopter blades pulsed like a second heartbeat above the snow-laced wilderness of Montana. White blanketed the rugged peaks below, while rows of solemn pine trees stretched endlessly—watchful and still.
Audrey sat in tense silence beside Sebastian. His reflection in the chopper window revealed a distant gaze, a clenched jaw, and eyes too guarded to read. He hadn't said much since they left Utah.
Only four words had passed between them before boarding.
"My father. No lies."
Audrey wasn't sure if it was a warning—or a plea.
They landed in a quiet clearing. A vast estate lay hidden beneath towering evergreens, stoic and weatherworn. It stood as an extension of the man who had built it—fortified, detached, and unapologetically austere. The air was laced with pine resin and woodsmoke, thick with silence that spoke of secrets.
Sebastian stepped out first, his dark coat catching the wind like a trailing shadow. Audrey followed, one hand near the base of her spine, where instinct never let her stray far from a concealed weapon.
But the door opened before they could knock.
Victor Donovan was not a man who wasted time with formalities.
Wearing a worn leather jacket, he appeared rougher than the last intel photo Audrey had seen—black hair streaked with silver, shoulders still broad from years of command. Like his son, his gaze was sharp and unreadable.
"Still bringing trouble home, I see," he muttered, stepping aside without invitation.
Audrey didn't flinch. "I'm not here to stir your whiskey," she said, walking in as though she belonged.
Victor raised a brow—curiosity or grudging respect, it was hard to tell.
Inside, warmth came only from the fire. The rest of the house felt like a bunker—maps pinned with thumbtacks, folders labeled in military shorthand, a world preserved in quiet, organized paranoia. The kind of place that made you lower your voice without knowing why.
Sebastian didn't even remove his gloves. "We need answers. About Lucien. Fontaine. And Nightglass."
Victor's eyes flicked from his son to Audrey. "You sure she's not part of it?"
"I'm the one being hunted," Audrey replied evenly. "And if we're here, it's because something your generation buried refuses to stay buried."
Victor exhaled—a dry, humorless sound that might've once been a laugh. "Fair enough."
He walked over to a locked file cabinet, pulled a chain from beneath his collar, and used the key to unlock it. From inside, he retrieved a thick manila folder, yellowed at the edges, stamped with a seal Audrey didn't recognize.
He dropped it on the table with a solid thud. "Operation Nightglass wasn't just covert," he said. "It was designed for full erasure. Identities. Missions. People. If something went wrong, there was no record it ever existed."
He pushed the folder toward them.
"Fontaine was presumed dead. Lucien never existed on paper—only by codename. Heretic. Brilliant. Dangerous. And now someone's reviving the operation, only this time… it's not about allegiance. It's about profit."
Audrey flipped open the folder. Inside were photos, old mission logs, surveillance stills. The kind of documents that weren't supposed to exist outside black sites. As she turned to the final pages, her fingers froze.
Her face stared back at her.
Younger. Different hair. A false name stamped beneath it.
She didn't remember the photo being taken. But she couldn't deny it was her.
Victor noticed. "You don't remember, do you?" His voice was almost gentle.
"They wiped her," he continued. "I warned Fontaine it was unethical. But he wanted compliance. Control. Especially over the one who wouldn't break."
Audrey couldn't look away. A single notation at the bottom of the page made her stomach tighten:
Asset Z–01 | Conditioning successful | Status: Unpredictable but effective.
Beside her, Sebastian's knuckles clenched. Then his fist hit the wall. A picture frame crashed to the floor.
"What did you do to her?" he demanded, voice tight with restrained fury.
Victor didn't react. "What I had to do to keep you both alive. I built walls to protect you. But now they're coming down. If she's starting to remember, it means Lucien already made his move."
A hawk cried outside, sharp and distant. Its shadow flitted across the snow as silence fell again.
Sebastian spoke next, voice low. "Who's after her?"
Victor's face hardened. "Everyone who profited from that program. And anyone who thinks either of you knows too much."
He looked at Audrey, gaze unflinching. "Do you want the truth?"
Audrey lifted her chin. "Always."
From a separate drawer, Victor pulled out a small USB drive. He held it between two fingers—not as an offering, but a warning.
"Then be prepared. Once you see what they made you into… there's no going back."