Episode 14

1:45 a.m. — Cain-Moretti Private Jet, Somewhere over the Atlantic

The silence inside the cabin was deafening. Lucien sat by the window, shirt unbuttoned at the collar, a whiskey untouched in his hand. The ice had melted an hour ago. Sera sat across from him, watching the flicker of stars reflect in his eyes, watching a man wrestle ghosts only he could see.

"Say something," she said softly.

Lucien didn't move.

"Lucien."

He blinked. Looked at her. His voice was quiet, dangerous.

"The man who ran the orphanage—the one who trained me—he's alive."

Sera stiffened.

"I thought he disappeared after the foundation was exposed?"

"He disappeared," Lucien said. "But not by accident. Someone protected him. Funded him. Delgado wasn't the top of the food chain."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think there's someone worse?"

Lucien turned toward her fully.

"I don't think. I know."

⎯

4:12 a.m. — Midtown Manhattan, The Obsidian Club

A glass shattered.

Jax flinched.

"Clean that up," Vanta ordered sharply, stepping over the mess like it was water.

He bent down slowly, wiping it up with a trembling hand. "You said I'd be protected."

Vanta leaned against the leather couch, sipping espresso in silence. Then:

"You failed me."

"I gave you everything on Cain—"

"You gave me timing," she snapped. "Not loyalty. And now Delgado's empire has collapsed."

He dropped the glass.

"I want out."

Vanta smiled, slow and venomous.

"Oh, Jax. No one leaves the Architect."

She took a folded piece of paper from her coat and tossed it beside him.

"What's this?" he asked, afraid to open it.

"Your last job," she said. "Finish it. Or I finish you."

⎯

11:07 a.m. — Cain Tower, New York

The jet touched down just after sunrise. Sera hadn't slept. Lucien hadn't spoken. Not until they were back in the suite, behind reinforced glass and biometric locks, did he finally speak.

"I want to find him," Lucien said. "Not to kill him. To know why."

"Why what?" Sera asked.

"Why he chose me," Lucien said. "Why he called me the 'project that couldn't break.'"

She stepped closer. "Maybe you weren't meant to break."

Lucien looked down at his hands. "But I did."

Sera touched his wrist. "And you built yourself again. Stronger. Colder. But still you."

His jaw flexed.

"What if I wasn't supposed to survive that place?" he whispered. "What if I'm still exactly what they made me?"

She pulled him close, pressed her forehead against his.

"Then I love the monster they made."

Lucien's breath hitched.

And that was the moment he broke—quietly. Not in screams. But in silence. A single tear down the cheek of a man no one thought capable of bleeding.

⎯

2:33 p.m. — Cain-Moretti Tactical Office, Sublevel 3

Vivienne spread out a stack of files on the steel table.

"This is everything we could find on Operation Halberd," she said. "That's the program that trained Lucien. It was funded by a black-budget agency based in Switzerland. All the names are aliases."

Lucien scanned the list.

Then he stopped. His finger landed on one.

Dr. Adler Voss — Behavioral Architect.

"That's him," he said. "That's the man who made us."

Sera leaned forward. "And he's still alive?"

Vivienne nodded. "Not only alive. He's active. Running a private think tank that studies 'cognitive weapons'."

Lucien laughed bitterly. "Cognitive weapons? He means children."

Vivienne's lips thinned.

"He's hosting a private security summit in Prague. In five days."

Lucien's eyes darkened. "Then we'll be there."

⎯

8:19 p.m. — Sera's Apartment, Upper East Side

She couldn't sleep. Not after what she saw in Lucien's eyes. She sat curled in a robe, staring at an old photo — her and her mother, long before the empire, long before the war.

Her mother's smile was soft. Gentle.

And suddenly, something clicked.

She dialed Collins.

"Run a name for me," she said. "Giulia Moretti. My mother."

"Already in your file," Collins replied.

"Then dig deeper. Medical records. Travel. Anything off the books. I want to know if she ever had ties to Voss."

A pause.

"You think your mother was involved in Halberd?"

"I think I've been blind too long," Sera said. "And someone needs to open their eyes."

⎯

Meanwhile…

9:41 p.m. — Prague, The Argent Institute

Dr. Adler Voss adjusted his tie.

His hands were slow, deliberate.

A young man entered the room.

"The Cain boy has found you," he said.

Voss didn't blink.

"He was always supposed to."

"Shall I evacuate?"

Voss looked in the mirror.

"No. Tell the guards to clear the lower floors. When he arrives, I want him to see my face. And remember what he was born to do."

⎯

Two days later — PRAGUE

5:02 p.m. — The Argent Institute

Lucien stood before the mirror in a tailored coat, gloves, no tie.

Sera stepped beside him in a deep navy suit, gun holstered beneath her jacket. Their eyes met. They didn't speak.

They didn't need to.

Inside the summit, they moved like shadows.

Surveillance. Intel. Codes.

Until they reached the elevator — and Lucien pressed the sublevel button marked in red.

Sera tensed. "Are you ready?"

"No," he said. "But I have to be."

⎯

Sublevel B3

The doors opened.

White lights. Steel walls. And the soft hum of machines.

And then—he saw him.

Adler Voss.

Older now. Gray at the temples. But the same cold, cutting eyes.

Lucien stepped forward.

"You remember me?"

Voss smiled.

"I never forget a success story."

Lucien's voice cracked.

"You tortured us. You turned us into things."

"I turned you into power," Voss said. "And look at you now—rich, feared, in love. My finest experiment."

Lucien pulled a gun from his coat.

Sera tensed—but said nothing.

"I should kill you."

Voss stepped forward.

"But you won't. Because part of you knows I'm the only one who ever told you the truth."

Lucien's hand trembled.

"I am not your weapon."

Voss nodded slowly.

"Then pull the trigger and prove it."

Lucien didn't.

Instead, he lowered the gun—and turned away.

"You're not worth the bullet."

He and Sera left in silence.

⎯

10:55 p.m. — Hotel Malströme, Prague

They made love like war—raw, desperate, silent.

No declarations.

Just the need to feel alive.

To feel whole.

After, Sera lay on his chest, tracing the scar near his collarbone.

"Do you still hear his voice?" she asked.

Lucien stared at the ceiling.

"Every time I close my eyes."

Sera kissed the scar.

"Then I'll speak louder."

Lucien looked down at her.

And for the first time, whispered the words:

"I love you."

She smiled.

"I know."