The morning sun barely broke through the haze hanging over the city. The Imperial Crest towered against the light, cold and magnificent, a monument to power built on secrets. Inside, the boardroom had been prepared for the most important meeting since the company's rebirth.
Every member of the executive board was present. Cameras had been disabled. The doors sealed. Security guards stood outside the corridor like silent statues.
John Raymond entered the room without his usual calm. His steps were measured, but there was a quiet edge to his movements — the kind that came from a man who sensed danger but refused to back down.
"Good morning," he said simply, taking his place at the head of the long table.
The murmurs quieted. The atmosphere was thick with tension. Rita sat near the corner, hands clasped tightly in her lap. Across from her, Ms. Patel avoided eye contact. Dalton sat two seats away from John, expression unreadable.
Linton broke the silence first. "We all know why we're here. The board has lost confidence in your leadership, Mr. Raymond."
John's voice was steady. "Confidence isn't lost. It's taken. Who took it from you?"
Linton bristled. "We've seen enough to question your integrity. Financial irregularities, offshore transfers, missing documents."
"Fabricated," John said calmly. "By the same people who nearly destroyed The Crest before I rebuilt it."
Ms. Patel leaned forward. "You can't deny what's on the reports."
"I don't deny," he said. "I expose."
He pressed a button on his remote. The projector flared to life, displaying a detailed analysis of the transactions. "Every offshore transfer listed here was redirected from Mart-Dove Global's accounts two weeks before Global View released their story. They're using our old Sovereign network against us."
A murmur rippled through the room. Patel's composure faltered.
Dalton shifted slightly, his eyes flicking toward Rita.
John continued. "The real question is why some of you have chosen to believe a narrative written by our enemies instead of facts built by our hands."
Before anyone could respond, the lights flickered. The projector shut off. The glass windows dimmed to black.
A voice crackled through the intercom. "Security breach detected. Building lockdown initiated."
Everyone froze.
Rita stood immediately. "That's not possible. The system doesn't trigger without manual override."
John's tone dropped. "Who has access to the override?"
Dalton's voice was low. "Only executive security... and you, John."
The room erupted into panic. Alarms echoed faintly from the lower floors, followed by the deep thud of automated doors sealing across the building.
John turned to Rita. "Find out what's happening."
She rushed toward the exit — but the door wouldn't open.
"It's locked," she said. "Manual override is dead."
John looked around the table. "Everyone stay seated."
Patel's voice trembled. "What's going on?"
Before anyone could answer, the screens lining the far wall flickered back to life. But instead of company data, they displayed a live video feed — a static image of The Benefactor's symbol: a silver crest over black smoke.
Then a voice filled the room. Calm, deep, and deliberate.
"Good morning, gentlemen and ladies of The Crest."
John's eyes narrowed. "Who is this?"
"You know me," the voice replied. "Though you've never met me. I built what you stand on. And today, I reclaim it."
Linton stood, shouting. "What is this nonsense?"
The voice continued, unbothered. "For years, your empire grew on borrowed power. You believed you were free. But every contract, every profit, every alliance — they all belonged to me."
Rita's hand flew over the control panel, trying to cut the feed. Nothing responded.
The voice grew darker. "John Raymond. You've been a useful successor, but you've forgotten who gave you the kingdom you hold. Now, you'll watch it burn."
The screens changed again — showing live footage from the company's central server room. The guards lay unconscious on the floor. A countdown flashed across the corner of the screen. 02:59.
A timer.
"Rita," John said sharply. "That's not a test."
She turned pale. "They've rigged the data core. If that timer hits zero, the servers will melt down — everything The Crest owns will vanish."
Panic spread instantly. Patel screamed. Board members scrambled for their phones.
John slammed his hand on the table. "Sit down!"
The authority in his voice froze everyone.
He turned to Dalton. "How much access do they have?"
Dalton's jaw clenched. "All of it."
Rita looked at him sharply. "What do you mean?"
"I tried to stop it," he said. "But they already had my codes. They're using my credentials to breach the system."
John's eyes flashed with fury. "You knew this would happen?"
Dalton met his gaze. "I tried to warn you."
Rita stepped forward. "You told me it was too late. You were right."
The timer on the screen dropped to 01:45.
"Can we override it?" John asked.
Rita shook her head. "Not from here. We'd need manual access in the server core."
John turned to Dalton. "You're coming with me."
Dalton stood slowly. "I'll get you in, but once the lockdown hits the lower floors, there's no way back up."
John's tone hardened. "Then we don't stop until it's done."
---
As they left the boardroom, chaos unfolded behind them. The remaining members argued, some calling security, others praying under their breath.
Rita ran to the emergency comm station and connected with Morgan.
"Morgan, we have a full breach," she said quickly. "They're shutting down the company's servers. John's heading to the core with Dalton."
"I'm already in the network," Morgan replied. "But the feed is looping. They've layered a firewall over the real timer. You've got less than a minute before the failsafe activates."
Rita's throat tightened. "Can you delay it?"
"I can try," Morgan said. "But whoever coded this knows The Crest better than I do. They're using Sovereign's original root system."
Her heart raced. "Then find me a way to reach them before the core blows."
"Elevator 9," he said. "Maintenance shaft. It bypasses the lockdown."
Rita didn't hesitate. She sprinted out of the boardroom and into the hall.
In the server core, red lights pulsed against the steel walls. The countdown echoed through the speakers — 00:57.
John and Dalton forced open the last door. Inside, the air was hot and dense. Towers of humming machinery surrounded them, wires twisting like veins through the floor.
Dalton rushed to a control terminal. "I can reroute the system through the auxiliary drive. It'll stop the meltdown but wipe the data."
John grabbed his arm. "No. We keep the data. Find another way."
"There isn't one!" Dalton shouted. "It's either the company or the memory of it."
John stepped back, breathing hard. He stared at the pulsing timer, then at Dalton. "Do it."
Dalton hesitated, then typed rapidly. Sparks burst from the server banks as alarms blared louder.
The timer hit 00:15.
"Almost there!" Dalton yelled.
Then the main screen flickered. The Benefactor's symbol reappeared.
"Too slow," the voice said.
A surge of light ripped through the cables, and one of the server units exploded, throwing them both to the ground.
Dalton coughed, smoke filling the air. "It's over!"
John dragged himself up. "No, it's not."
He slammed his palm against the emergency panel, rerouting the final command line manually. The system sparked again, the timer freezing at 00:02.
Silence.
Then the lights flickered back to white.
Dalton looked up, disbelief written across his face. "You stopped it."
John turned toward him, chest heaving. "We stopped it."
Dalton's expression shifted — not relief, but something closer to sorrow. "You still don't understand."
John frowned. "Understand what?"
Dalton's lips parted, but before he could speak, a gunshot rang through the room.
Dalton froze, eyes wide, a dark stain spreading across his chest. He stumbled back, collapsing against the console.
Rita stood in the doorway, the smoking pistol trembling in her hand.
"Dalton," she whispered, voice breaking.
He looked at her, pain clouding his eyes. "You shouldn't have come."
He fell to the floor, the life draining out of him.
John turned, shock and fury mingling. "Rita—"
"I didn't mean—he was reaching for something—"
Before he could answer, the intercom crackled again. The Benefactor's voice filled the air, calm as ever.
"Well done, Mr. Raymond. You've saved your company. But at what cost?"
John's fists clenched. "Who are you?"
The voice chuckled softly. "The man who owns your shadow."
The line went dead.
Rita dropped the gun, tears streaking her face. Dalton's lifeless eyes stared up at the ceiling.
John knelt beside him, his voice low. "He tried to warn us."
Outside, sirens blared as emergency teams moved through the building.
Inside the core, John Raymond rose slowly, his reflection caught in the shattered glass of a server panel. His empire was alive — but now soaked in blood.
And the war had only just begun.