Chapter 36: The Silent Weapon

Istanbul, Turkey – Below the Grand Bazaar, Underground Arms Exchange – 11:03 P.M.

The scent of spices mixed with gun oil beneath the ancient cobblestones. Torch-lit tunnels wound beneath the Grand Bazaar like veins, echoing with whispers in dozens of languages. Down here, weapons weren't just sold—they were inherited, worshipped, customized for shadows.

Damien moved silently between crates of warheads and racks of encrypted detonators. This wasn't his world, but he'd walked through worse. He adjusted the cuff of his coat as he reached the checkpoint—two guards in Kevlar with retinal scanners and subdermal triggers eyed him like a viper in their den.

"Your name?" one of them grunted.

Damien didn't answer. Instead, he pulled a solid black token from his pocket. The Obsidian Coin—a mark of silent immunity from the Brotherhood of Steel. Only six such tokens existed in the world. This one had cost him a billion-dollar satellite.

The guards stepped aside.

Inside the chamber sat an old man with olive skin and silver hair, flanked by twin bodyguards with mismatched cybernetic eyes. His name was Raheem Alsadek, known in black books as The Quartermaster. A man who could arm an army overnight—and disarm one just as fast.

"I wondered when you'd come," Raheem rasped, swirling his drink. "I've been watching your war, Damien. You stir chaos with elegance."

"I'm looking for Archer Grey's recent purchases," Damien said, not wasting time. "I know he's buying biochemical assets. The kind that never leave survivors."

Raheem tapped his fingers on the table. "Information like that could start world wars."

Damien leaned in. "It already has."

Raheem slid a sealed drive across the table. "This has everything. But know this—Archer's not alone. He has patrons. High ones. From Russia, South Korea, parts of Nigeria's tech underground. And they don't want Tavara... they want what's under it."

Damien's eyes narrowed. "What's under Tavara?"

Raheem only smiled. "That, Damien, is a story older than your empire."

Mongolia – Abandoned Research Station, Orkhon Valley – 1:27 A.M.

Nora's boots crunched over frozen gravel as snow whipped across her face. The facility had long been declared derelict, but she had tracked her mother's project trails here using the names from the Zurich datapad.

Inside, she found rusted labs, destroyed cryo-chambers... and a still-active biometric pod.

She approached carefully. The screen flickered to life.

> Subject: Project Rebirth-01

Genetic Host: A. V. Hamilton

Status: Dormant – DNA Linked

Next of Kin Identified: NORA V. HAMILTON

Nora stepped back, her heart pounding.

"What the hell did you leave me, Mom?"

The terminal buzzed and a new screen appeared: Activate Protocol Y3?

But before she could answer, she heard movement.

Footsteps.

She wasn't alone.

---

Inside Damien's Private Jet – En Route to Prague

Damien reviewed the data from Raheem. His eyes narrowed as names and locations flickered across the screen—covert labs in Peru, hidden data centers in Lagos, sleeper agents in Tokyo.

But one name stood out, circled in red by Raheem's team:

Noelle Graves – UN Undersecretary for Global Innovation.

Public ally of peace. Private architect of destruction.

"She's Archer's point of access," Damien muttered.

He tapped into his global callline. "Nora, are you there?"

No answer.

Instead, static crackled through... followed by a single word:

> "Help."