Chapter 72: The Forbidden Archives

The Monastery of Saint Jude sat on the edge of a jagged cliff, overlooking the stormy Northern Sea. It looked less like a church and more like a prison.

"No Wi-Fi," Alex complained, holding up his tablet as the wind whipped his hair. "Dad, are you sure this is the right place? It looks haunted."

"Ghost stories are for kids, Alex. We are looking for intel," Jackson checked his gear. He brought a flashlight, the iron key from Prince Frederick, and his trusty handgun hidden under his coat.

He told Serenity they were going for a "father-son drive." He didn't want her worrying about another dangerous mission.

They walked up to the heavy wooden doors. A monk in a brown robe opened them. He had no eyebrows and didn't speak. He simply held out a hand.

Jackson placed the iron key in the monk’s palm.

The monk’s eyes widened slightly. He nodded and gestured for them to follow.

They walked through silent stone corridors filled with the smell of incense and old wax. They descended into the crypts beneath the main altar.

"There," the monk pointed to a rusted iron gate at the end of a tunnel, then turned and walked away into the shadows.

"Friendly guy," Alex whispered.

Jackson unlocked the gate. It groaned in protest.

Inside, there was a small circular room lined with rotting bookshelves. In the center, on a stone pedestal, lay a thick, leather-bound book wrapped in chains.

"That's it," Jackson walked over. "The Ouroboros Archives."

He broke the chain with the butt of his gun. He opened the book.

It wasn't a bible. It was a ledger.

The pages were filled with names, dates, and payments. Some entries were written in ink, some... looked like dried blood.

"Alex, scan this," Jackson ordered. "Digitize everything."

Alex pulled out a portable scanner. "On it."

As Jackson flipped through the pages, his face grew darker.

"1940... 1965... 1999..." Jackson muttered. "They have been orchestrating wars. Famines. Stock market crashes. And here..."

He stopped at the current year.

He recognized the names on the list.

General K (Head of Montbert Army).
Baron Rothschild.
CEO of Vex Corp.

"They are everywhere," Jackson realized. "Generals. Bankers. Even the Chief of Police in Montbert."

"Dad," Alex said, his voice trembling slightly. "I just ran a cross-reference. Look at this name."

Jackson looked at the screen.

Honorary Member: Dr. Aris.

"The Royal Doctor," Jackson clenched his jaw. "The one who treated Serenity for years. He was one of them. He wasn't replaced by an imposter... he sent the assassin."

It was a terrifying realization. The betrayal went deeper than they thought.

Creak.

A floorboard creaked behind them.

Jackson spun around, drawing his gun instantly. Also blocking Alex with his body.

From the shadows of the bookshelves, a figure emerged. It wasn't a monk. It was a man wearing a modern tactical suit, but his face was covered by a smooth, white mask with a single black tear painted on it.

A Silent One. The elite enforcers of the Order.

"You should not be reading that, Mr. Sterling," a distorted voice spoke.

"I read enough," Jackson aimed at the man’s head. "Who are you?"

"We are the future," the assassin lunged forward, moving with unnatural speed. He held a curved blade that glowed in the dim light.

Jackson fired. Bang!

The bullet hit the assassin in the chest, but he didn't stop. He was wearing body armor. Or maybe, like Arthur, he didn't feel pain.

"Run, Alex!" Jackson shouted.

He holstered his gun and met the assassin’s charge. He grabbed the assassin's wrist, blocking the blade inches from his neck.

They wrestled on the cold stone floor. The assassin was incredibly strong—enhanced strength.

Jackson grunted, using his body weight to slam the man into the stone pedestal. The heavy book fell to the floor.

"You possess the blood of the key," the assassin hissed. "But you are weak."

"I'm not weak," Jackson pulled a hidden knife from his sleeve—a trick Sebastian taught him—and stabbed it into the unarmored joint of the assassin's shoulder. "I'm just pissed off."

The assassin roared, stumbling back.

Jackson grabbed the heavy iron chain from the floor and swung it like a whip. It wrapped around the assassin's neck. Jackson pulled tight, choking him out.

Minutes passed. The assassin finally went limp.

Jackson let go, panting. He checked his ribs. Probably bruised.

"Dad! Did you kill the ninja?" Alex poked his head out from behind a statue.

"He's unconscious," Jackson picked up the scanner and the book. "We need to leave. If there is one, there are more."

They ran out of the crypt, past the confusing corridors, and back into the cold night air.

As they drove away, Jackson looked at the digital copy of the list.

"Dr. Aris is dead," Jackson said grimly. "But the rest on this list... General K... Baron Rothschild... they are going to wake up tomorrow with a nasty surprise."

"What are we going to do?" Alex asked.

"We are going to drain their bank accounts," Jackson smirked. "And then, we are going to publish this list to the world."

The hunt was no longer in the shadows. Jackson was about to declare open war.