MasukThe night reeked of rust and rain.Steel groaned as Adrien pried open the side door of the derelict train station, its hinges crying out after years of neglect. The air was sharp with cold metal and wet dust the kind of emptiness that swallowed sound. Somewhere far beyond the cracked walls, the city hummed in restless ignorance.Ryan followed close behind, his flashlight cutting through the dark like a blade. The beam landed on the skeletal remains of old train cars hollow, stripped of color, their paint flaking like dead skin. “You sure this is where he’ll come?” he whispered.Adrien’s voice was low, steady. “He won’t resist.”The trap was elegant in its simplicity: a broadcast of fake intel about a “final handoff” of Viktor’s stolen evidence, planted in the same encrypted channels Viktor once used to bait his own victims. The digital trail led here the ghost station beneath the city’s oldest rail line.Adrien checked his watch. Midnight, exactly. “He’ll be on time.”Ryan studied him
The screen flickered as Ryan scrolled deeper into the “NOVAK” archive. Each folder opened another wound old surveillance footage, training simulations, files labeled Phase I Conditioning, Phase II: Repetition, Phase III: Replacement. Adrien’s name wasn’t just there it was everywhere.“Stop,” Adrien rasped, his voice shaking. “Turn it off.”Ryan hesitated. The last folder was timestamped five years ago. “Adrien, there’s one more”“Turn it off.” Adrien’s tone was sharp, desperate. His hands trembled as he stepped back from the screen, pacing the small safehouse room like a trapped animal. “He… he didn’t just train me. He built me.”Ryan stood, uncertain, his heart twisting at the sight. “You were a kid You didn’t know”Adrien slammed his fist into the wall. “That’s not an excuse! Every choice I made every move I thought was mine he was already there. Calculating. Predicting. Watching.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I was his prototype. His perfect little successor.”Ryan approached slowly
Adrien’s hands were already moving before Ryan could speak grabbing cables, reconnecting the power, forcing the broken workstation to life. Smoke rose from the shattered casing, but the screens flickered back on, one by one, stuttering to green.“He’s initiating the data release early,” Adrien muttered, voice clipped. “We have less than fifteen minutes before it goes global.”Ryan stood behind him, trying to keep up. The fractured glow from the monitors cast both of them in cold light, their reflections ghosted against the glass walls. “Fifteen minutes? Adrien the servers are gone. You smashed the CPU”“It doesn’t matter,” Adrien cut in. “He mirrored it. There’s still a remote key somewhere in the system.”His fingers flew across the keyboard, typing faster than Ryan could follow. The screen filled with encrypted scripts command lines buried under firewalls, a digital maze built by the same mind that built him.“Come on…” Adrien’s tone dropped to a growl. “Show me where you’re hiding
The glow from the monitors painted the room in cold blue light, slicing across Adrien’s sharp profile as he stared at the screen. Lines of encrypted data scrolled endlessly, each one a thread leading deeper into his web.Ryan sat beside him, the rhythm of keystrokes and quiet breathing the only sound. He’d been at this for hours, tracing every code variation Hale left behind ghosted breadcrumbs of a man too careful to leave a trail but desperate enough to try.“There,” Ryan murmured, leaning forward. “Port 6889. That’s where the data stream splits off. If Hale was sending something hidden, it’s buried there.”Adrien’s eyes flicked to him, admiration blending with exhaustion. “You caught that faster than I did.”Ryan allowed himself a small grin. “Guess I’m learning from the best.”Adrien didn’t answer, but his mouth curved slightly. Then, just as the code broke open, a new window flooded the screen a hidden folder./ScepterArchive_01/Adrien’s breath stilled. “That’s one of Viktor’s o
The air inside the new safehouse was heavy with static like the silence before a storm. Adrien hadn’t slept. He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyes locked on Hale’s encrypted drive looping the same corrupted data over and over Every attempt to decode it only deepened the digital noise.Ryan hovered nearby, a cup of untouched coffee cooling beside him. The dim lamplight made the dark circles under his eyes more pronounced. “You’ve been at it for four hours,” he said softly.Adrien didn’t look up. “Encryption this complex isn’t meant to be cracked. It’s meant to bury itself if handled wrong.”“Meaning if you mess up, it self destructs?”“Exactly.” Adrien leaned closer, scanning the shifting lines of code. “Hale used a split key cipher. Half the algorithm is stored locally; the other half was buried remotely. If we find the host server, we can unlock everything.”Ryan studied the flickering monitor. “Where would he keep something like that?”Adrien hesitated. “Not where. Who. Hale never
The rain had started again by the time they reached the outskirts of the city not the furious kind that soaked through everything, but a quiet drizzle that whispered across the empty roads. The hum of the engine filled the silence as Adrien steered the car through backstreets only someone like him would know.Ryan sat in the passenger seat, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh. The glow from the dashboard painted Adrien’s face in muted blue, highlighting the sharp lines of concentration. He hadn’t spoken in almost ten minutes.Finally, Ryan broke the silence. “You’ve driven this route before.”Adrien didn’t look at him. “A long time ago.”“With him?”A brief pause. Then: “Yeah.”Ryan exhaled slowly. “You think Hale knew this was coming?”Adrien’s grip on the wheel tightened. “He always said if Viktor couldn’t buy someone, he’d break them. Hale knew that better than anyone.”They turned down a deserted lane, the streetlights thinning until the city felt like a memory. The coord







