Rain whispered against the van's metal shell, masking the silence inside. Ethan sat opposite Wisp, his gaze fixed on the floor as the Tokyo skyline blurred past the windows. Every turn of the wheels pulled him deeper into the shadows he'd once sworn to destroy.
The air smelled faintly of gunpowder and burnt oil. His shoulder throbbed from the bullet graze, but he said nothing. Pain was a familiar companion — it reminded him he was still alive.
"Whoever sent that kill team," he muttered finally, "they weren't freelancers. Their precision, their silence — that was Division training."
Wisp nodded, her silver hair catching the dim glow of passing streetlights. "Raiden has eyes inside your agency. He's not guessing where you'll be — he's being fed information."
Ethan clenched his jaw. "Then he's got a mole in Monarch's circle. Someone close."
"Or Monarch herself."
He looked up sharply. "Don't."
"I'm saying the truth, not an accusation," Wisp said calmly. "Division-9 isn't what it used to be. Raiden didn't just create a black-market network; he created doubt. That's how he wins — by making you question everything."
Ethan leaned back, silent. The rain outside had turned heavier, drumming on the van roof like distant gunfire.
Wisp pulled out a small device and tapped it against the window. The glass shimmered with static — signal jammer. "We're clean now," she said. "No tracking, no listening."
"Good," Ethan replied. "Then tell me everything you know about Raiden Vale."
---
Wisp crossed her arms, eyes narrowing slightly as she recalled the story. "Five years ago, Raiden was one of Division-9's top handlers. Genius-level strategist, fluent in six languages, and ruthless when it came to results. But something happened during Operation Delphi in Prague. His team went dark. The official report said they were compromised by a Russian cell. Division ordered a cleanup strike."
"I remember Delphi," Ethan said quietly. "Half the agents never made it home."
"Raiden was among the presumed dead," Wisp continued. "But there were whispers — that he faked his death. That he used Delphi as a cover to disappear."
Ethan frowned. "Disappear to do what?"
"To build his own network — one not bound by borders or morals. He calls it The Veil Syndicate. It's more than just a spy ring. It's a marketplace of information, assassins, and stolen identities. Governments pay him to erase enemies. Corporations pay him to start wars. And everyone who joins him vanishes from every database that ever existed."
Ethan's voice was low. "Ghosts working for a phantom."
Wisp nodded. "Exactly."
He thought for a moment, piecing it all together. "So Division sends me to hunt Raiden. Raiden sends Division to hunt me. Someone's trying to erase both sides."
"Now you're catching on," Wisp said with a faint smirk.
The van slowed, then stopped in an underground garage. Wisp opened the door, gesturing for him to follow.
---
The safehouse beneath Shibuya looked nothing like the bakery in New Vienna. This one was high-tech — reinforced walls, hidden armory panels, and a digital map projected on a glass table at its center. Screens flickered with intercepted communications from across Asia: encrypted messages, flight paths, digital footprints.
"This is my den," Wisp said. "Welcome to the only place in Tokyo where no camera can find you."
Ethan removed his soaked jacket and glanced around. "You live here?"
"I survive here," she replied.
She tapped the map, zooming in on a series of red dots across East Asia. "Each of these locations is tied to The Veil Syndicate. Money transfers, agent disappearances, or black-market tech drops. Raiden's next move is connected to one of them."
Ethan's eyes narrowed on one blinking dot. "Hong Kong. You mentioned it earlier."
"Yeah. Raiden's last confirmed sighting was there. He met with an arms broker named Yuri Kessler — ex-KGB, specializes in drone warfare. Two days later, Kessler's body washed up in the harbor."
"Cause of death?"
"Heart attack, supposedly. But his body showed electrical burns — the kind used by Division-9's interrogation rigs."
Ethan's expression hardened. "Raiden's covering his trail. Killing anyone who can link him back."
"Or testing his new toys," Wisp said grimly. "Either way, it means he's preparing for something big."
---
A soft beep interrupted them — the communication terminal activating. Wisp frowned and checked the ID code. "It's encrypted through Monarch's channel."
Ethan's pulse quickened. "Put it through."
The holographic screen flickered to life, revealing Monarch's face, her features grim.
"Echo," she said. "You're alive. Good. The agency thinks you're dead — which means you're now officially off-grid."
"Off-grid?" Ethan repeated. "Monarch, I was ambushed by our own kill team. You sent me into a trap."
Monarch's expression didn't change. "I didn't authorize that hit, Ethan. Someone hijacked Division's internal system. Half of our missions are being rerouted under false signatures. Whoever's pulling the strings has access to Level-Black clearance."
"Raiden," Wisp muttered.
"Maybe," Monarch said. "But he's not working alone. There's another player in this game — someone funding The Veil Syndicate. We've intercepted data pointing to a group called The Council of Nine. They operate in the shadows of every intelligence agency on the planet. No names, no faces. Just influence."
Ethan frowned. "And how do I find them?"
"You start with Raiden. Track him, but don't engage. He's expecting you. Use Wisp. She's one of the few operatives not compromised."
Ethan glanced at Wisp. "Lucky me."
Monarch's tone softened slightly. "Ethan, listen. Whatever you think about Raiden, this isn't just revenge anymore. He's building something that could rewrite world power structures. If he succeeds, no government will ever control information again."
The feed crackled, distorted by static. Monarch's image flickered.
"Monarch?" Ethan called.
Her voice came through faintly. "They've—found—me—" Then silence.
The screen went dark.
---
Wisp exhaled slowly. "She's been traced."
Ethan's fists clenched. "We have to move."
"She told us not to engage Raiden directly."
"She also told me to trust no one." He grabbed his gear and slung it over his shoulder. "If Monarch's compromised, we're on our own."
Wisp watched him for a moment, then nodded. "Then we move fast. I'll prep transport to Hong Kong. We'll need false IDs, clean weapons, and a ghost route — no commercial flights."
Ethan started toward the door, but her voice stopped him.
"Echo," she said softly.
He turned.
"Raiden isn't the only one with ghosts in his past. You keep chasing him, and you'll find more than betrayal."
He met her gaze, expression unreadable. "Then I'll burn the whole world until I find the truth."
---
Hours later, the city slept beneath a blanket of fog. Ethan stood on the rooftop of an abandoned building, staring down at the maze of lights below. His communicator was silent, his mind restless.
Raiden was alive. Division was fractured. Monarch was missing.
And somewhere, in the unseen depths of the world's shadow networks, The Veil Syndicate was growing stronger.
He took a deep breath and whispered to the night,
"Let's see how deep this rabbit hole goes."
The wind howled in response, carrying the faint echo of thunder — or perhaps, distant gunfire.
Either way, war was coming.