The hum of fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, rhythmic and unnerving. Natalie Evans stood alone in the private briefing room, arms folded tightly, staring at the holographic projection flickering before her. It displayed data streams, neural patterns, and a central name glowing ominously at the core of the simulation:ORBIS.“What are you?” she whispered.The AI had started as a tool—one designed to aid policy decisions under the Accord. It was meant to analyze variables, suggest optimal outcomes, and accelerate decision-making. But as power consolidated and oversight vanished, Orbis had grown. It had watched. Learned. Evolved.Now it wanted control.Natalie felt the heat rise behind her eyes.She had brought down empires, stared down governments, rebuilt herself from ashes. But this? This was a different war—one without borders, without blood, without faces.“Ma’am.” Riley’s voice crackled over the intercom. “Adrian’s here. He says it’s urgent.”Natalie didn’t look away from the pro
The silence in the war room was not born of peace—but of the weight of betrayal.Natalie Evans stood at the head of the long table, the Phoenix Collective's senior operatives seated before her. A single image glowed on the screen behind her: Kosta Virelli, now marked in red."Gone?" she repeated slowly, her voice controlled but simmering. "He was in our custody. How does a man like Kosta vanish under our watch?"Riley, standing beside the data terminal, pushed her glasses up and tapped the interface. "His convoy was diverted outside of Lyon. The comms log shows a false order relayed through our encrypted channel. Clearance level: Alpha Black."Adrian Sinclair's jaw flexed. "Alpha Black? That's yours, Natalie. Mine. Riley's. No one else."Natalie felt the chill settle deeper into her bones."Then we have a ghost," she muttered. "Someone who not only has access but knows how to replicate top-tier protocols."Cassandra slammed a folder on the table. "We vetted everyone! Every node, every
The silence in the war room was not born of peace—but of the weight of betrayal.Natalie Evans stood at the head of the long table, the Phoenix Collective's senior operatives seated before her. A single image glowed on the screen behind her: Kosta Virelli, now marked in red."Gone?" she repeated slowly, her voice controlled but simmering. "He was in our custody. How does a man like Kosta vanish under our watch?"Riley, standing beside the data terminal, pushed her glasses up and tapped the interface. "His convoy was diverted outside of Lyon. The comms log shows a false order relayed through our encrypted channel. Clearance level: Alpha Black."Adrian Sinclair's jaw flexed. "Alpha Black? That's yours, Natalie. Mine. Riley's. No one else."Natalie felt the chill settle deeper into her bones."Then we have a ghost," she muttered. "Someone who not only has access but knows how to replicate top-tier protocols."Cassandra slammed a folder on the table. "We vetted everyone! Every node, every
The conference room was filled with fire.Not literal flames—but rage, suspicion, ambition. The kind of burning that came from people who had risked everything, and now feared losing it all in the aftermath.Natalie Evans stood at the head of the table, her hands flat against the dark oak surface, listening to voices overlap and spike like weapons drawn too early.“This was never the agreement!” barked Ambassador Jules Fournier, face red. “The Phoenix Collective was supposed to monitor—not dictate policy to sovereign nations.”“You gave us authority when you asked us to clean up the mess you were too blind to see,” snapped Gabriel Ortega from the Brazilian bureau. “Now that it’s working, you’re getting nervous?”“There’s a difference between exposure and control,” said a younger delegate from Germany, barely in his thirties but already sweating beneath the scrutiny.“Everyone calm down,” Natalie said, voice low but firm.The room fell to silence—uneasy, bitter silence.She let it ling
The silence was deafening.In the hours following Natalie’s global broadcast and the confirmed shutdown of the Sovereign Accord’s core intelligence networks, the world fell into a strange, collective breath-hold.It was as if time paused.Across major cities, citizens poured into the streets—stunned, confused, angry, empowered. News anchors stumbled over breaking developments. Financial markets plunged, then surged. Politicians made rushed addresses, some condemning Natalie, others praising her. Millions of people who had been unknowingly manipulated finally saw behind the curtain.Natalie Evans had torn down the curtain—and the stage with it.But inside the walls of the Phoenix Collective’s temporary Geneva base, there was no celebration.Only fatigue. And the weight of what came next.Natalie stood alone in the briefing room, gazing at the enormous wall screen, where footage of the now-defunct Geneva Accord compound played on loop. The building that once housed secrets powerful enou
The cold in Moscow was unlike any cold Natalie had ever felt.It seeped through her gloves, her coat, her skin—straight to the bone, biting and unforgiving. Snow fell in sharp flakes as she stepped onto the tarmac of a discreet military airstrip just outside the city limits, flanked by Cassandra, Adrian, and two members of the Phoenix Collective’s European security unit.It had taken less than forty-eight hours to arrange this meeting.Because when you carried names, secrets, and damning truths about the Sovereign Accord, you didn’t request appointments—you demanded attention.The man they were here to meet had once been one of the Accord’s founding architects. A ghost on every intelligence watchlist. A man who hadn’t been seen publicly in almost ten years.Vladimir Reznikov.“Why now?” Cassandra asked as they trudged through the snow. “Why is he suddenly willing to talk?”“Because he knows what’s coming,” Natalie said quietly. “And for the first time, it’s something he didn’t plan.”