The war room was silent except for the hum of the screens. Marcus Thayle's death had shaken the House like a thunderclap, and the ripples were still spreading. For Morgana, though, there was no stillness left inside. Only motion.
She sat alone at her workstation, the black king chess piece resting in her palm. Her fingers curled around it so tightly that the edges bit into her skin.
---
Grief
When she closed her eyes, she saw Marcus in that cell, pale and bewildered, moments before his death. All these years, she had believed he was gone, another casualty of a cruel world. To know he had been alive all this time, hidden away, only to be taken from her again—it hollowed her out.
She didn't cry. Not here. Not now. Her grief was a blade, and she intended to use it.
---
Confrontation
The door behind her opened. Adrian stepped in, his presence filling the room. "I thought I told you to rest," he said softly.
"I can't rest," she replied without looking at him. "Not while he's inside. Not while Marcus is—" She stopped, the words catching.
He approached slowly, placing a hand on her shoulder. "I should have told you he was alive. That's on me."
She turned then, eyes sharp. "This isn't about blame anymore. It's about ending this."
---
Rogue Plan
Later that night, she found Callen in one of the secured briefing rooms. He had already guessed what she wanted to say.
"You're going off the books," he said.
"They've locked the House down, but Emil is already here. If I move through official channels, he'll know every step. We need to set a trap he can't predict."
Callen leaned back, arms crossed. "You're talking about a ghost protocol."
"Exactly," she said. "We use Noor's old network. We build something so far off the record even Adrian won't see it. If Emil thinks he's safe, he'll make his next move."
"And when he does?"
"I'll be waiting for him."
---
Operation Black Net
By dawn, Morgana and Callen had begun assembling a rogue system on a series of offline terminals in one of the unused lower labs. They called it Black Net—a blind trap of digital decoys designed to look like confidential data leaks. Each file was a lure, carefully crafted to draw Emil closer.
Every baited file came with a silent ping that would lead them to anyone who accessed it.
This was no longer just a mole hunt. It was a war inside the House's own walls.
---
The Spark of Suspicion
As Morgana worked, she thought about the stranger she had seen in the atrium two days ago—the one her instincts had lingered on. Something about him had felt wrong, though she couldn't place why. She filed it away, another thread to pull.
"Once we light this up," Callen said, breaking into her thoughts, "there's no going back. We're doing this without authorization. Adrian won't forgive us if it blows back."
"Adrian can be angry with me later," she said coldly. "Right now, Emil is in my House. My brother's blood is on these floors. And I'm going to find him."
---
Emil Watching
Two floors above, Elias Kane—Emil—was rerouting fiber lines in a maintenance corridor when he noticed a new signal flickering on his tablet. A blind network he hadn't seen before.
He smiled faintly. "Clever girl," he whispered.
She was setting the board.
He would happily play.