Novel & Cerita The Vault Dweller

"Clean up this mess. And open the vault. My son wants his mother."

“I will follow, but the vault has a biometric scanner. It only opens with Vaughn blood. They built it to prevent internal betrayal, yet ironically it makes you the only person with the ability to access it. Your stepmother is not a Vaughn by blood. Amelia is but she has never been linked to the vault. You are.” A strange knot formed in my stomach. “My father built something like that?” “He built worse,” Adrian replied. “You just never saw it.” He walked to a shelf and retrieved a sleek, encrypted tablet. He held it out for me to see a diagram of the underground vault. The instructions looked like something from a high-security government facility.

"Tomorrow, Blackridge wakes up to a new world. The Board thinks they can play god with our lives and our city. They think because they wear suits and sit in towers, they’re untouchable. But they forgot that the towers are built on our dirt." He slammed his fist onto the map, right over the bank. "At dawn, we hit the central hub. Vulture, you lead the heavy bikes to block the exits. Kaelen, you take your unit through the vents. Jax, you’re on the feed. And the Doc..." He turned to me, his gaze possessive and intense. "The Doc is going to be the one to open the vault. Because the Board’s wealth isn't in gold. It’s in the secrets Arthur Vance left behind, and she’s the only one with the key."

Vincent had claimed the bunker held no heavy weapons, but Cyrus trusted his own judgment more than rumors. He shoved Vincent hard, sending him stumbling forward, then leveled his gun at the back of his head. "This is the bunker you were talking about? Go open the door." Vincent looked up at the black metal gate and shouted, "Hold on a second. I'll open it right now." Inside the villa's control room, a man in a yellow silk robe stood before the monitors, his eyes fixed on Cyrus. He was Severin Wilhelm, a well-known billionaire heir. On the screen, Vincent signaled to him with his eyes. Severin did nothing. His hand never moved toward the door controls.

The Vault wasn't a room. It was a cavern. Carved deep into the heart of the glacier. The walls were thick ice, reinforced with steel beams. Guards stood at the entrance. Four of them. Elite class. They wore heavy exoskeletons over their uniforms. They saw Sera trotting down the hall. They relaxed slightly. Then they saw Arielle. Weapons raised. "Halt!" the lead guard barked. "Restricted area. Alpha clearance only." Sera growled deep in her throat.

I punch in the code I stole from Luca’s records weeks ago. 7-7-1-9. The doors slide open. I step inside. There is only one button: B. Basement. The descent is smooth. Silent. I am sinking into the belly of the beast. The doors open again. I am in a small, concrete antechamber. In front of me is the Vault. It is a circle of steel, massive and gleaming. It looks like the door to a submarine. In the center is a digital keypad. My heart hammers against my ribs. Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

“No windows at all. Looks like the only way in is through an underground garage. Guards everywhere. The place is locked down like a fortress. Not sure what the smartest move is. She’s got serious protection.” My phone chirped again, Valerian calling. “Marcus, hold on. Valerian is on the line.” I switched over. “What’ve you got?” He sounded pissed and frustrated. “I found the vault.” “Why do you sound like that’s bad news?” Valerian let out a long breath. “I went down into the lower levels of the castle. It’s a freaking maze, tunnels and passages everywhere, most of them ancient. Only a handful even have electric lights. I tailed a couple of guards down one of the longest ones, staying in the

Claws scraped stone as they climbed the burning towers, tearing at the foundation. “What are they doing?” I breathed. Davos paled. “The vault. They’re after the Relic.” Before I could ask, the figure lunged at Shaun. He dodged, changing mid-motion, his wolf form slamming into them. They rolled, a jumble of claws and snarls, but the figure twisted free, landing a kick that sent Shaun skidding into debris. Davos shoved me toward a collapsing doorway. “Get to the armory! There’s a tunnel underground—go!”

The rest washed away the blood, cleaned their weapons and slowly raised the flasks of moonshine, celebrating another victory of the united army of the undead. In the confusion reigning around, no one paid attention to the bright green glow of the circle that opened near the camp and the magician who stepped out of it. Allvin was one of the few who, possessing strength, also had the right to move within the camp, so that most knew him by sight and did not even get distracted from their studies. Smelling the flaps of his cloak, Allvin quickly rushed to the large tent, which from the side was no different from the same medical ones, except that a pair of guards - a werewolf and a vampire - were