Novelas de Glorious_Griffin

Sofia stood alone in the communications room long after everyone else had cleared out.The space was dim, lit only by the glow of monitors and the faint reflection of her own face in the glass. On every screen, fragments of the Council’s broadcast looped endlessly—her name, her image, her sentence. Traitor. Target. Threat.She had spent most of her life erasing herself, moving silently, leaving nothing behind but bodies and questions. The Council had believed that silence was her nature.They were wrong.Behind her, the door opened quietly.Russo entered without announcement, his presence steady, unhurried. ‘If you do this,’ he said calmly, ‘there’s no reclaiming anonymity.’

The announcement did not come with sirens or gunfire.It came quietly.That was how the Council always operated when they wanted fear to seep into the bones rather than explode on impact. By the time the world realised something had changed, the damage would already be done.Sofia felt it first as a disruption in the digital air.Russo’s estate buzzed with low-level activity—comms operators murmuring, screens flickering as encrypted channels lit up one after another. She stood near the central operations table, arms folded, posture calm despite the tension tightening her spine.Alex stood beside her now, a faint bruise darkening his jaw, his eyes sharp and restless as he scanned incoming data. He hadn’t asked questions

The alarms at the Council complex did not stop when Alex crossed the outer gates.They followed him into the city like a warning siren meant for anyone still loyal enough to listen.By the time he reached the underground transit tunnel, his face was slick with sweat, lungs burning, but his mind was terrifyingly clear. There was no going back now. Whatever fragile protection his rank had once afforded him was gone. Madam Lee would not hesitate to brand him a traitor, and the Council would not hesitate to erase him.Alex disappeared into the service tunnels, shedding his jacket, dumping his weapon into a drainage shaft, and becoming anonymous by necessity. Every step was calculated, every turn deliberate. Survival had always been part of the training. Tonight, it was personal.A

Alex had always believed that truth revealed itself eventually.You just had to dig long enough.The safehouse was quiet except for the soft hum of the servers lining the walls. Screens glowed with fragments of data—mission logs, intercepted transmissions, corrupted Council files slowly being stitched back together. Alex sat at the centre of it all, eyes bloodshot, jaw tight, his body running on caffeine and stubborn refusal to stop.The deeper he dug, the uglier it became.Timelines didn’t match. Casualty reports had been altered. Entire operations had been erased from record, their participants listed as KIA when Alex knew they had never returned to base at all. And always, like a fingerprint pressed into wet cement, one name appeared at the edge of every anomaly.

Sofia had always believed that choice was an illusion.The Council taught that obedience was survival. That questioning orders was weakness. That loyalty was measured by how quickly you pulled the trigger when told to. For years, she had mistaken endurance for freedom, discipline for purpose.Standing now in Don Russo’s study, she understood how wrong she had been.The room was quiet, the low hum of the city filtering in through the tall windows behind him. Russo stood near his desk, jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up in a way that suggested this was not a negotiation he intended to dominate. He watched her closely, not like prey, not like property—but like an equal weighing another.Damian lingered near the door, deliberately silent.

The Council chamber was never silent by accident.Every echo, every pause, every measured breath was calculated to intimidate, to remind those within its walls that power did not need to shout. It simply waited. Tonight, that silence felt brittle, stretched thin by impatience and fear.Madam Lee stood at the centre of the room, hands clasped behind her back, spine straight, chin lifted. She had perfected the posture years ago—confidence without arrogance, loyalty without submission. It had served her well.Until now.‘Your report is incomplete,’ one of the Council members said, voice distorted by the modulation field that concealed identity. ‘You assured us the mission would be neutralised.’Madam Lee incli