Echoes of Edevane

Suddenly, Caleb's desk phone rang.

Sharp, short beeps—the internal line.

He picked it up quickly.

"Vaughn, report to the Director's office. Now."

No questions. Caleb rose from his chair, cast a brief look at Jesse, Mina, and Ayla, then walked briskly out of the Helix unit room.

Upstairs, in a glass-walled office with soundproof panels, Director D. Sandwell was waiting.

He stood with his back to the window, his gray suit pristine, expression carved from stone. Beside him stood Operations Manager Keller, typing something rapidly into her tablet.

"Sit down, Vaughn," Sandwell said without looking.

Caleb sat, straight-backed and alert.

Sandwell got straight to the point.

"Last night, intel from our French network picked up a visual confirmation of someone we believe to be Dr. Vahl Edevane."

Keller added, still focused on her screen,

"Location: Rhône-Alpes region, near the border. Mountains. A former private research compound. We can't send local forces—too sensitive. This is a gray zone."

Sandwell crossed his arms.

"You and your team are tasked with infiltration. Confirm the identity. If possible, capture him. If not—destroy the facility and secure the data."

Caleb nodded, eyes narrowing.

"If he's active again, that means Project Palimpsest was never really shut down."

Keller spoke calmly, "Worse. It may have succeeded."

Sandwell placed a sealed folder on the table.

Red stamp: "LEVEL 7 – TEMPORARY ACCESS"

"Take your team. You fly tonight. Unmarked aircraft. Callsign: Falcon Seven."

Caleb stood up slowly.

"What about Tyler Reeve?"

Sandwell gave him a sharp look. "Bring him. Sick, lazy, or insane—he's the only one who's touched that file from the inside. And if he really is a test subject… he may be the only living map we have."

Caleb took the file, his jaw set.

As he left the office, one thing was clear—

this mission wasn't just about tracking a ghost. It was about questioning reality itself.

Minutes later, Caleb returned to the Helix team room.

Everyone turned to him.

Mina set her tablet aside. Jesse stopped typing. Ayla sat up straighter.

Caleb tossed the sealed file onto the table.

"We've got a mission."

Silence fell.

"Target is in France. Rhône-Alpes. We're hunting Edevane. He's resurfaced. And if he's really alive…"

His voice dropped.

"Then the game just changed."

Midday at Tyler Reeve's apartment.

Sunlight filtered lazily through half-drawn blinds. Tyler was slouched on the couch, one foot on the coffee table, remote in hand, flipping channels without focus.

Suddenly, his phone rang.

A sharp, minimal tone—one he used only for secure contacts.

He picked it up lazily, but the moment he heard the voice on the other end, his posture shifted.

"Reeve. You're summoned."

Tyler sat up straight.

A slow, knowing grin crept onto his face.

"Showtime," he muttered.

Moments later...

He stepped out of the bathroom, hair damp, slightly tousled, and confidence pouring from every motion.

He slipped into a plain white button-down shirt, no undershirt, top two buttons undone just enough to look effortlessly cool.

Over that, a slim-fit black blazer—sharp but not flashy.

He spritzed a little cologne, checked his reflection.

"Still got it," he smirked.

Before leaving, he crouched down and filled a bowl of food for his grey tabby cat lounging on top of the fridge.

"Don't destroy the couch while I'm out, Moritz. I just paid rent."

Grabbing his access badge, motorcycle keys, and a folded dossier tucked into his inner pocket, Tyler headed out.

CIA Helix Headquarters – Lobby.

The glass doors slid open.

Tyler walked in.

The moment he stepped onto the polished floor, heads turned.

Female analysts, receptionists, even a few agents looked his way. A few whispered, none discreetly.

"God, Tyler looks even hotter today..."

"That open collar thing—seriously? It's unfair."

"He's trouble, but man, if trouble had a face..."

Tyler gave a subtle half-smile.

He didn't need to say a word.

He was the headline.

Ding.

The elevator opened. Tyler stepped in.

Already inside: an older man in a sharp black suit, holding a slim leather case. Standing behind him, two tall men in dark suits—no weapons visible, but clearly ex-military.

Tyler eyed the older man.

Not an agent. Not field. But... important. The quiet kind.

The elevator began its slow ascent.

Two young analysts entered behind them, whispering behind their coffee cups.

"Isn't that the Director's handler?"

"Yeah, I think he's the one who briefs the high-clearance shadow units. If he's here, something big's happening upstairs."

Tyler pretended not to listen, but his eyes flicked to the man's reflection in the mirrored panel.

Something was off.

14th Floor – Special Ops Division.

Ding.

The doors opened.

Tyler stepped out, cool and composed, walking down the familiar hallway of Unit Helix.

Just outside the briefing room stood Caleb Vaughn, arms folded, eyes already narrowing.

"Well, look who finally decided to show up. Feeling better, Red Shirt?"

Tyler grinned, throwing his hands in the air.

"Ever since that sandwich you gave me three days ago, boss. Healed my soul."

Caleb sighed, stepping aside.

"Get in. We've got a mission. And if you screw this one up, you're not just screwing us—you're messing with your own damn mind."

Tyler raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, great. The team's finally worried about what's inside my head. Took 'em long enough."

He stepped in.

The door hissed shut behind him.

Inside, the rest of the team was already seated.

And what they were about to be briefed on would send them across borders—and straight into the shadows chasing a ghost thought long buried.

CIA Briefing Room — 10:14 AM

The lights were dimmed.

Jesse had already projected a topographic map of the Rhône-Alpes region on the wall.

Mina was finalizing emotional pattern simulations based on old psychological data on Dr. Edevane.

Ayla was quietly assembling a portable neuro-sensor kit.

Tyler, lounging lazily, spun a pen between his fingers, half-interested.

Caleb Vaughn stood in front of the room, clipboard in hand, voice calm but commanding.

"Alright, listen up. Jesse — you're running comms and electronic pattern tracking. Ayla, you'll be our eyes from the control van, sweep the signal spectrum. Mina, you'll infiltrate as a neurotech rep, posing as a system recalibrator. Tyler—"

"Lemme guess, I sneak in with a lab coat, act like a lost intern? Classic." Tyler interrupted with a crooked grin.

Caleb raised an eyebrow but didn't argue. He was used to it.

Just then, the briefing room door opened.

A sharp-looking CIA officer stepped in, flanked by two assistants with tablets.

"Apologies for the interruption, Agent Vaughn. I bring immediate orders from Upper Division."

Caleb frowned slightly.

"Upper Division? This mission's under Level-7 lockdown."

The officer handed over a tablet marked "INTER-DIVISION OVERRIDE – CODE NOVA."

"Your mission will now be shadowed—and if deemed necessary, overtaken—by Task Unit NOVA, from the Shadow Deep Division."

The room went still.

Mina looked up, eyes narrowing.

Ayla clenched her fists under the table.

Jesse quietly shut off the map projection.

Tyler leaned back, his smile turning sharp. He let out a soft click of his tongue.

"Them again? I worked alongside that unit back in my last assignment. They don't assist — they hijack. We do all the legwork, and the moment it gets important, they swoop in and claim the whole damn thing."

He turned to Caleb, then glanced at the officer.

"This came from the Director?"

The man replied calmly.

"From higher."

Tyler blinked.

"Higher? The Director has a boss?"

Jesse spoke, tone cool and flat.

"Every director reports to someone. There's a committee above us — unofficial, unnamed. Some call it the Black Chamber. No press, no records, but they decide where experiments stop and operations begin."

Caleb's voice turned grave.

"If the Black Chamber is involved, then Edevane isn't just a rogue target. He might be an asset they've quietly kept alive… for years."

Ayla chimed in, quietly.

"Or he has something they can't destroy — because if it goes down, they go with it."

Tyler smirked, sitting up straighter.

"If they're planning to hijack this mission... we just have to move faster than they do."

Caleb nodded once, firmly.

"Until they physically take it from us... this is still our mission."