Allies and Anomalies

Location: United Kingdom – Birmingham Underground Facility

The chill of the underground vaults in Birmingham did little to phase Xander Kane—Victor's cousin and Damien's distant relative. A former black-ops strategist turned rogue data broker, Xander had been living under the radar, dissecting signals and secrets that governments wouldn't even admit existed.

Until now.

The moment Damien's encoded order reached him, everything changed. His long-standing neutrality evaporated the second he read the names on Althea's corruption list—one of which included someone he once swore to protect.

Sitting inside the secure war room surrounded by plasma displays and AI-purged data feeds, Xander activated his direct line to Tavara.

Damien answered almost instantly. His face, half-shadowed in the dim light of the command base, said everything Xander needed to know.

"Your intel was right," Damien said. "Two more heirs were triggered last night—one in Milan, the other in Vancouver. We lost both facilities."

Xander leaned back, his boots resting on the edge of the console. "Then it's worse than we thought. Althea's not just awakening those she turned. She's strategically unleashing them—one per region."

"Like chess pieces," Damien muttered. "Controlling the board."

"But there's something else," Xander added, his tone sharper. "In the last twenty-four hours, I picked up signal disruptions—anomalies. Not just from Althea's network. Something older… more buried. Maybe even beyond her."

Damien straightened. "What do you mean?"

"I mean someone—or something—is using similar psychic triggers, but not hers. Think of it as a parasite fighting the host."

Nora's voice chimed in from Damien's side. "Are you suggesting there's another player in this war?"

"I'm saying Althea may not be the final boss," Xander replied. "She could be a vessel."

The silence that followed was deafening.

"We'll need proof," Damien finally said. "Anything concrete?"

"I'm working on it. But there's more—you'll want to bring her into this," Xander said cryptically.

"Who?"

Xander tapped a command on his console, sending a live video feed to Damien's device. Onscreen appeared a woman in her mid-thirties, with storm-gray eyes and a silver-lined mark across her temple.

Nora stiffened. "Is that…?"

"Yes," Xander said. "The Oracle of Berlin. The only psychic ever exiled by the Circle for predicting the rise of the Bloodfire Heir."

"She saw Damien," Nora whispered.

"And she saw Althea," Xander added. "And someone else—someone even she refused to name. But she's ready to talk now."

Damien narrowed his eyes. "Then let's make her talk."

As the call ended, Damien looked at Nora. "Gather the team. We're going to Berlin."

Nora nodded, already reaching for her encrypted communicator.

In another part of the world, as the gears of retribution turned, Althea stood alone in a room bathed in darkness. A wall of surveillance feeds showed everything—Damien, Xander, the Oracle.

And yet, she smiled.

"The awakening has only just begun," she whispered.

A second voice answered from the shadows behind her.

"Shall I introduce myself now?"

"No," Althea said, her smile growing colder. "Let them think I'm the greatest threat—for now."