Chapter 8 – The Ghost Contract
Rain came again, washing the city in restless light.
Andrew sat inside a dim café near the edge of Dockline, his hood pulled low, eyes fixed on a cracked datapad. The new job had arrived through an encrypted channel he didn't recognize — no sender, no trace, only three words:
"Terminate V. Roth – Balance Required."
He frowned. He didn't like mystery clients. But work was work, and silence paid well.
As he scrolled through Roth's file, a chill crept up his spine. The man wasn't a gangster, not a politician—just an ordinary factory supervisor.
So why did the message feel so heavy… like judgment?
He shut the pad and looked out the window.
Across the street, a streetlight flickered in perfect rhythm — five short blinks, two long.
Morse code.
You're being watched.
Andrew's hand tightened around his cup. He didn't look up; he didn't have to. He could feel the eyes — one from the upper corner camera, another from the man pretending to read the news by the counter.
He rose quietly, leaving a few coins on the table, and slipped out into the rain.
---
On the rooftop above, a drone tracked him with cold precision.
"Target moving south," a voice crackled through comms.
Government strike team Delta-3, now in pursuit.
---
Andrew moved fast through the narrow alleys, blending with the shadows. The storm had deepened, and the city seemed to hum around him — wires, vents, the whisper of water through pipes.
Then, through the downpour, a whisper not carried by sound reached his thoughts:
> "Balance observes you, Andrew Blake."
He froze.
"Who's there?"
No answer. Only the sound of metal groaning in the wind.
He turned sharply—and caught a glimpse of something impossible.
For a heartbeat, reflected in a puddle, stood a shape behind him — tall, luminous, shifting like liquid glass. Eyes of faint light.
He spun around.
Nothing. Only rain.
He exhaled sharply and moved on, unaware that every step he took was already being mirrored by something vast and silent beneath the ocean.
---
Meanwhile, high above the city, Director Armand watched the live feed from the drone.
"Do not engage," he ordered. "Track him only."
Kellen's voice came through, low and tense.
> "Sir, if he meets the entity again, we might lose him."
Armand's eyes stayed on the monitor, where Andrew vanished into the fog.
> "Then maybe," he said quietly, "we'll finally see which side he belongs to."