The elevator doors slid open on Floor Nine with a metallic whisper that felt far too quiet for a floor this large. The hallway stretched ahead of them in a long arc of glass walls and polished marble, but something about the silence felt wrong immediately.
Rita stepped out first, her eyes sharp. "This floor is usually crowded. Legal teams. Advisors. Assistants. This is empty."
Morgan checked his tablet. "The feed on this level is still scrambled. Every camera went dark thirty minutes ago. Someone shut the entire floor down."
John walked forward, the tension around him growing thicker with every step. "She was here. She used her access to close the floor."
Rita motioned to the nearest office. "Let us check."
They stepped inside. The glass door slid open without resistance, but the office was untouched. Papers stacked neatly. A cup of cold coffee. A jacket still draped over a chair.
Morgan frowned. "Whoever was here left in a hurry."
Rita pointed to the coffee. "Not that long ago either."
John scanned the room. "Celine wiped the feed. She did not want us to see who she spoke to before she left."
Morgan brought up a hologram of the scrambled surveillance. "Boss, it is not just wiped. It is inverted. The data was reversed and then embedded inside a lattice code only Intelligence officers know how to rewrite."
Rita stiffened. "Meaning someone from Cassandra's department helped her."
John nodded. "Or Celine manipulated them long before tonight."
They stepped back into the hallway. The silence grew heavier as they continued deeper into the floor. Offices stretched out on both sides, darkened and quiet. Even the ventilation system felt muted, as if holding its breath.
Then they saw it: a door left slightly open.
John moved toward it without hesitation.
Morgan swallowed. "Boss, what if she left a trap?"
John did not slow. "Then we disarm it."
He pushed the door wider.
Inside was a small room with a single computer active. Its screen glowed softly, displaying a text document. Rita stepped beside John and froze.
"It is a message," she whispered.
John read it silently.
You are late.
You should have taken the crown.
You should have listened to your father.
Now the real heir will bleed for his choices.
Rita stiffened. "She is taunting you."
Morgan whispered, "No. She is studying you."
John's jaw tightened. "Celine knows I am coming."
Rita touched his arm. "John, this woman is not like the others. She does not operate in the open. She is Harold's ghost. She knows these halls better than anyone alive."
John did not look away from the screen. "Then she should have stayed hidden."
Rita exhaled. "What do you think she wants?"
John scrolled down.
More text appeared.
Your father left something for you.
But you will never find it before I do.
You are not ready for the truth he carried.
John's fingers curled. "She stole more than a tablet."
Morgan checked the timestamps. "Boss, this message was typed about an hour ago. She was here after the Sanctuary explosion."
Rita shook her head. "Meaning she already expected you to live."
John's eyes darkened. "She is not following the Benefactor. She is following her own plan."
Morgan tapped another screen. "Wait. There is more. The last line is encoded."
He ran a decryption.
A single sentence appeared.
Floor Thirty Two.
Midnight.
Come alone.
Rita almost tore the screen from his hands. "Absolutely not. She wants you isolated."
John stared at the message without blinking. "She wants to talk."
Morgan stepped back. "John, she is dangerous. She stole your father's files. She erased half the logs. She has someone helping her. And the Benefactor is awake downstairs. This could be a trap."
John turned away from the screen, calm but burning inside.
"All of this is a trap."
Rita stepped in front of him. "Then let us go together."
John shook his head. "No."
Rita grabbed his arm. "John. Listen to me. You cannot walk into whatever she prepared without backup."
"She chose the floor," John said. "She chose the time. She chose the rules. If I break them, she disappears into the building, and we lose her."
Morgan swallowed hard. "Boss, she is testing you. She wants to know if you think like Harold or like the Benefactor."
John finally looked at them.
"I am not either of them."
Rita did not move. "Then do not face her alone."
John reached for her hand, squeezed it once, then let go.
"I will face her because she is not afraid of me. Not yet."
Silence crept between them.
Morgan broke it first. "Then we will set up support in the background. Floor patrol. Stealth surveillance. Anything you need."
"No," John said quietly. "No cameras. No security. No surveillance. If she senses we are watching, she will vanish."
Rita's voice softened. "Then what do we do?"
John stepped out of the office.
"We prepare."
In the Intelligence Hub on Floor Five, Cassandra stood in front of her screens as the building map shifted with new alerts. Artificial intelligence on the network detected unusual movements on multiple floors.
She whispered to herself, "Celine is forcing his hand."
She brought up a secure window and typed a message.
He is going to her.
Intercept or observe.
Choose now.
She hesitated over the send command.
Then she closed the window and deleted the message entirely.
Not because she was afraid, but because she needed to see how John would move.
On Floor Thirteen, the Benefactor lifted his head slightly, listening.
Footsteps in the distance.
Elevators changing direction.
Heartbeats rising above.
He smiled faintly.
"John Raymond prepares to walk into the woman's web," he murmured. "Good. She will show him the first truth."
He leaned his head back again and closed his eyes.
"This house will devour its heir if he hesitates."
Back on Floor Nine, Rita, Morgan, and John reached the elevator.
Rita stepped in front of the button. "John. Look at me."
He did.
Rita's voice lowered to a whisper meant only for him.
"I trust you. But I will not let you die in this building."
John's gaze softened, but only for a second.
"I will not."
Morgan raised his tablet. "Boss, we will stay on comms if anything goes wrong."
John stepped into the elevator alone.
"No comms," he said.
Rita's breath caught. "Then how will we know you are safe?"
John looked at her one last time.
"You will know if I am not."
The doors closed.
The elevator began rising.
Floor Ten.
Floor Eleven.
Floor Twelve.
Floor Thirty-Two waiting above like a blade.
Rita whispered, "John, do not let her get inside your head."
Morgan whispered, "She already is."
Rita clenched her fists. "Then we get ready."
Morgan nodded. "For what?"
Rita stared at the elevator lights.
"For the worst."
The elevator continued its ascent.
Each floor passed like a countdown.
The Crest grew colder.
The lights dimmer.
The air heavier.
Floor Thirty Two.
The elevator stopped.
John stepped out into the darkness.
And the first move of the real war began.