The screams of Dev Vardhan were drowned out by the heavy roar of the Russian engines. Xavier didn't look back. He stood by the edge of the pier, lighting a cigarette—something Arjun would never have done. The smoke curled into the cold night air, mixing with the fog. Behind him, Meera was shivering, wrapped in Silas's gray coat. She looked at Xavier's back, searching for the man who used to bring her lilies every Sunday. But all she saw was a wall of cold, expensive charcoal wool.
"Xavier," Silas's voice rasped, standing next to him. "The Russians are messy. They'll leave a trail. We need to move."
Xavier took a long drag, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon. "Let them leave a trail. I want the world to know that the Vardhans are falling. But Silas... something is wrong. Dev was too arrogant, too sloppy. He was a puppet, just like Vikram."
Suddenly, Xavier's phone vibrated. A private video link. He opened it. The screen showed a hidden basement—clean, white, clinical. And in the center, sitting on a high-back chair, was an elderly woman.
Xavier's cigarette fell from his lips. His heart, which he thought was made of stone, felt like it was being ripped out.
"Ma?" he whispered.
The woman in the video was his mother. The woman the world—and Arjun—thought had died in a car accident ten years ago.
The video cut to a man's silhouette. You couldn't see his face, only his hands—manicured, wearing a ring with a strange crest. A phoenix rising from the ashes.
"Hello, Xavier," the voice was distorted, robotic. "You've done well. You destroyed the weak branches of the Vardhan tree. But did you really think Arjun was the only one who could be 'rebuilt'? Your mother has been my guest for a long time. She's alive, but her life depends on your next move."
Xavier's breathing became ragged. He turned to Silas, grabbing him by the collar. "You knew! You're the 'Architect'! You know everyone's secrets! Did you know my mother was alive?"
Silas didn't flinch. He looked at Xavier with those dead, gray eyes. "I build weapons, Xavier. I don't give them more than they can handle. If I told you a year ago, you would have rushed in and died. You needed to be Xavier first. Now, you are ready to face the real enemy."
"Who is he?" Xavier growled, his voice a low, dangerous hiss.
"The man who owns your father, your cousin, and half this city," Silas replied. "He is the one who designed the car crash. He is the one who wanted the Vardhan empire to fall so he could buy the ruins. He is The Phoenix."
Xavier turned toward Meera. She was looking at him with tears in her eyes. "Arjun... please. If she's alive, we have to save her."
"There is no 'we', Meera," Xavier said, his voice cold again, but there was a crack in it. "The man you loved is a memory. The man standing here is a monster built for one purpose: War. Go home. Forget you saw me tonight."
"I can't!" Meera stepped into his space, touching his scarred hand. "I saw your eyes when you saw her. You're still in there. Don't let Silas turn you into a machine."
Xavier pulled his hand away as if her touch burned him. He couldn't afford to be human. Not tonight. Not when his mother was in a cage. He turned back to Silas. "Where is he? Where is The Phoenix?"
Silas pulled out a map. "He's at the old Vardhan steel mill. The place where your father started everything. It's a fortress, Xavier. You go in there, and you might not come out. Even as a ghost."
Xavier checked his pistol. He felt a cold, familiar calm settle over him. "I've died once in the rain, Silas. Dying again won't be that hard. But this time, I'm taking the whole world with me."
An hour later, Xavier stood outside the steel mill. It was a massive, rusted beast of a building, belching black smoke into the night sky. Armed guards with high-tech rifles circled the perimeter. This wasn't just a business rival; this was a private army.
Xavier didn't use the front door. He used the shadows.
He moved through the ventilation shafts, his breathing synchronized with the humming of the machinery. He dropped into the main floor, taking out two guards before they could even reach for their radios. His movements were a blur of lethal efficiency. Snap. Crack. Silence.
He reached the upper floor, where the white basement from the video was located. He kicked the door open, his gun raised.
But the room was empty.
No mother. No guards. Only a large TV screen on the wall.
It flickered to life. A man was sitting in a dark office, his face still hidden. "You're fast, Xavier. But you're late. Your mother has been moved. But don't worry... I left you a gift."
Xavier looked down. At the center of the room was a suitcase. It was ticking.
"Three minutes, Xavier," the voice laughed. "Do you save yourself and continue your revenge? Or do you stay and try to find the next clue while the building blows up? Choose. Arjun or Xavier?"
Xavier stared at the bomb. His eyes caught something—a small locket tangled in the suitcase's handle. His mother's locket. Inside was a microchip. The building began to shake. Alarms screamed. Xavier grabbed the locket, but the door behind him slammed shut. Locked. "Silas! I'm trapped!" he shouted into his earpiece. There was only static. The timer hit 00:10. Xavier looked at the glass window, 50 feet above the concrete ground. He took a breath, tucked the locket into his vest, and ran.