LOGINBanquet of the Shadow RulerThe dining hall deep within the Vortex Energy underground complex felt like a temple dedicated to absolute power. Walls hewn from natural jet‑black lava rock had been polished to a glossy sheen, reflecting the glow of crystal chandeliers hanging high above a ten‑metre‑long marble table. Here, amidst suffocating silence, the rich aroma of premium roasted meat and expensive Bordeaux wine filled the air, mingling with the cold metallic scent of advanced technology operating in adjacent rooms.Mavric Thorne sat upright, his hands clenched tight beneath the table. Beside him, Liora stared blankly at the porcelain dinnerware set before her, but her mind was analysing every detail of the room searching for motion sensors, mapping the positions of armed guards, and identifying weak points in the security systems visible on distant monitors.At the far end of the table, The Matriarch Victoria Thorne cut into her steak with elegant, precise movements, as though pe
Fugitives at the Edge of the WorldReykjavík welcomed them with gusts of Arctic wind that bit right to the bone. For Mavric Thorne, this biting cold at least brought a welcome numbness to the wounds on his body injuries that were still far from fully healed after the fierce battle at the docks in Jakarta. Beside him, Liora walked with a lighter, more agile stride, yet her eyes remained sharply alert, scanning every single person who passed them in the arrivals terminal of Keflavík International Airport.They no longer went by the surname Thorne. In their newly issued passports, they were Mr. and Mrs. Miller, a couple of architects from Canada taking an extended sabbatical from work. There was no luxury car waiting to pick them up. Instead, Mavric rented an old but sturdy Volvo SUV, and they drove for two long hours until they reached a remote wooden cabin situated on the edge of Hvammsfjörður fjord.The cabin stood entirely alone on the shore of a frozen lake, surrounded by snow‑ca
The Throne Above the WatersThe cold, murky waters of North Jakarta slammed against Mavric and Liora’s bodies the moment they plunged from the pier, five metres above. The blast from the Duke’s sabotaged yacht still echoed in their ears, sending heavy ripples surging outward through the dark sea. Beneath the surface, Mavric’s hand clamped firmly around Liora’s wrist, pulling her upward until they broke through into the open air, right in the shadow of the towering concrete pillars supporting the satellite control centre.“Liora! You still have it?” Mavric gasped for breath, seawater streaming down his bruised, battered face.Liora coughed violently, spitting out water from her lungs. With trembling fingers, she raised her hand high. The silver pendant was still there, bound tight to her wrist with the flare cloth, now soaked through. “The chip… its temperature plummeted the moment we hit the sea. We’ve bought ourselves time, Mavric. We have to get up there fast before they lower t
Race Against the SunThe roar of a Kawasaki KLX 250 engine tore through the quiet of Jakarta West’s narrow alleys. Mavric Thorne gripped the handlebars until his knuckles turned white, while Liora Thorne clung tightly to his waist, her left hand clutching the silver pendant, which now felt like a burning coal pressed against her palm. Above them, the dark silhouette of the Duke of Westminster’s Eurocopter helicopter loomed constantly, the rhythmic thud of its rotor blades blending with the deafening noise of the city below.“Mavric! The temperature’s rising again! The indicator light on the pendant is flashing red!” Liora screamed into his ear, her voice almost completely drowned out by the rushing wind. “This chip has highly sensitive thermal sensors. If the metal reaches 42 degrees Celsius, the self‑purge protocol activates. We’ll lose all the stored data within thirty minutes!”Mavric glanced at the side mirror and spotted two black SUVs belonging to the Duke’s men emerging at t
Dust and Blood on Home SoilThe hot, humid air of Jakarta greeted Mavric and Liora as they stepped out of the private jet terminal at Soekarno‑Hatta Airport. There was no red carpet, no line of bodyguards in tailored suits surrounding them as usual. This time, they arrived like shadows. Liora wore a loose T‑shirt, cargo trousers and a baseball cap pulled low over her face, while Mavric known as the Dragon of London looked distinctly out of place in a simple linen shirt and sunglasses, trying his best to blend into the crowd.“How long has it been, Liora?” Mavric asked quietly, his voice barely audible above the honking horns and shouts of taxi drivers in the distance.“Five years,” Liora replied tersely. Her eyes scanned their surroundings warily. “The last time I was here, I was just an orphan girl running away from the debts left behind by my mother’s medical bills. Now I’m back to retrieve the key that could either destroy or save the world’s economy. Life is ironic, isn’t it?”
Secrets Behind the Walls of BlackwoodThe air inside the underground laboratory beneath Blackwood Manor felt static, as though time itself had ceased to tick away ever since the fire that raged here thirty years ago. The scent of ozone and cold metal hung heavy in the room, lined with rows of old servers that hummed softly despite their age kept alive by hidden backup circuits deep within the structure. Standing calmly in the centre of the room was Thomas White, holding a silver encryption drive that glinted under the flickering neon lights overhead.Mavric Thorne did not lower his weapon. His breathing remained ragged, his body still trembling slightly from the narrow escape from the exploding bookshop. The wound on his shoulder, caused by flying shards of glass during the blast, seeped fresh blood that soaked through the expensive fabric of his shirt. Even so, his gaze remained locked on the man whom, for decades, he had believed to be his father’s most loyal and trusted servant
The Half-TruthDawn had not yet broken over the London skyline, but inside the main laboratory of Thorne Manor, the space glowed brighter than midday. Liora Thorne sat upright, her fingers dancing across a transparent keyboard with the precision of a neurosurgeon. Beside her, Mavric stood like an
The Devil's TransparencyThe explosion on Level 0B of Thorne Tower slowly subsided, leaving behind a pungent stench of sulfur and burnt metal. At the shattered doorway, Silas White and Miles Thorne were forced to retreat. The Nemesis Protocol activated by Liora was more than just electronic inter
The King’s DeclarationThe storm that lashed the city overnight left the morning air damp and cool at Thorne Manor. Yet the temperature in Mavric’s private library was far more frigid. Beatrice Thorne stood in the middle of the room; her usually haughty face looked wilted, with lines of exhaustio
The Emerald ViperThe morning sun at Thorne Manor had never felt so cold. Though golden light streamed through the crystal windows of the main dining hall, the atmosphere around the long table felt like a frozen battlefield. Liora sat to Mavric’s right the seat legally hers by right but at the fa







