Rain crashed sideways against the armored windows of the yacht, lightning illuminating the Atlantic like a war-torn sky. Kael stood alone at the bow, shirt soaked, eyes closed. The water didn't bother him. Not anymore.
His muscles ached—not from fatigue, but from something growing inside him.
A power he hadn't asked for.
He had spent his life learning how to use money, technology, and strategy.
Now?
His body was becoming the most advanced weapon in the world.
Inside, Trix ran the analysis again.
"Kael, your blood contains markers I've never seen. Not human. Not synthetic. Like… evolutionary code."
She projected the screen.
The DNA chain shimmered, lines branching in recursive spirals.
"I compared this with the genetic traces from the Archon cube. You didn't just inherit WexleyTech. You inherited the core protocol."
Kael watched silently.
Trix hesitated.
"This isn't a legacy, Kael. It's a directive. Something written into your blood… to be activated."
Thalia leaned in. "Activated by what?"
Kael turned. "By war."
Three hours later, a priority ping shattered the tension.
A message from The Bookkeeper—an ex-Syndicate accountant Kael had placed in hiding. It was coded through seven shadow relays, encrypted with a Wexley-only key.
The message read:
"THE OATHKEEPERS ARE MOVING. CODE: ELYSIUM RISES. YOUR BROTHER IS ALIVE."
Kael's heart stopped.
"What brother?" Thalia asked.
Kael turned slowly, the storm flashing behind him.
"I never told anyone," he said. "But I had a twin. Born premature. My father claimed he didn't survive the night."
He looked down at the message.
"He lied."
Two days later, the yacht docked in Iceland, under the cover of northern snow. Kael met the Bookkeeper inside a geothermal cavern—a sanctuary built from scavenged Syndicate ruins.
The man looked older, gaunt, but his eyes were sharp.
"Your father split you two at birth. Not for safety. For experimentation."
Kael said nothing.
"Your brother—Lucan—was raised by the Oathkeepers, an elite sect within the Syndicate. They believe in purity of control. No mercy. No weakness."
Kael's jaw tightened. "And now he's what?"
"Everything they hoped you would never become."
The Bookkeeper handed over a dossier.
Lucan's image filled the screen—Kael's face, but sharper. Harsher. His eyes were voids.
"He's already been activated."
That night, Kael sat alone under the auroras.
Two halves of a forgotten experiment.
One raised in silence.
The other… in shadow.
Thalia sat beside him. "You okay?"
"No."
"Want to talk?"
"No."
They sat in silence.
Then Kael whispered, "If he's like me… if he has this power too… he could destroy entire cities."
Thalia didn't flinch. "So can you."
Kael looked up.
"That's what I'm afraid of."
The next morning, a second message arrived—Lucan had surfaced.
He was in Hong Kong.
Not hiding. Waiting.
Trix loaded a topographical feed.
He had seized an entire skyscraper overnight. Wiped out twenty security teams. Declared it a "temple of the true heir."
Kael stared at the screen.
Lucan was calling him out.
Not as a brother.
But as an enemy.
"Gear up," Kael said, strapping on a customized WexCore suit designed to harness his altered physiology.
Thalia clipped her rifle, narrowed her eyes. "What's the plan?"
Kael looked out the window.
"No plan."
Just revenge.