The wind in the northern district of Valemir whispered secrets—ones sealed decades ago beneath Jefferson Global's oldest private property: The Atrium Annex, a once-abandoned estate that had become nothing more than an archive center for legal relics and unused patents.
But beneath the structure, hidden far from electronic grids and corporate registries, lay The Vault—Wallace Jefferson's most protected secret.
It was where the seal's trail now pointed.
Nightfall – Outside the Atrium Annex
A sleek black SUV rolled to a halt outside the gated property. Elsa stepped out first, dressed not for corporate war, but for a different kind of battlefield—black leather jacket, fitted cargo pants, and combat boots. There was no velvet here. No pretense. Only resolve.
Chess followed, dressed in similar gear, though his presence was quieter than hers—like a blade sheathed but pulsing with intent.
Devon's voice crackled in their earpieces.
"East wing entry point's clear. No heat signatures. But be advised, internal magnetic interference suggests the vault has non-standard locking mechanisms. Possibly… arcane."
"Arcane?" Elsa repeated, turning to Chess with raised eyebrows.
He gave her a cryptic smile. "Your grandfather had friends in strange places."
She snorted. "Why am I not surprised?"
The Descent
They moved through the dilapidated corridors, past rusted filing cabinets and walls lined with yellowed schematics. The place reeked of old ambition. Of deals long dead.
And then they found it—a steel wall embedded into the earth itself. No visible handles. No panel. Just a carved sigil in the center—a circle with a dragon swallowing its own tail.
Chess stepped forward, placing his palm against the symbol.
A low hum echoed. The steel rippled like water before parting sideways with a hiss.
Elsa blinked. "How did you—"
"It recognized me," Chess said simply. "Or rather… my master's energy."
They entered.
Inside the Vault
The chamber was a mix of the old and the forbidden. Shelves of ancient scrolls sat beside hard drives labeled with obsolete operating systems. In the center: a stone pedestal with a glass casing.
Inside it was a fragment of the seal—not whole, but pulsing with dormant energy.
Elsa stared at it. "It's… reacting."
Chess frowned. "Not to me. To you."
She stepped closer, hand trembling slightly.
The seal flickered, showing visions—images burned into light.
Wallace Jefferson in his youth, shaking hands with a hooded figure cloaked in gold.
The seal glowing on his desk.
A map… no, a star chart… but with two cities highlighted: Valemir and… Kavaria.
And then, a face. Nyra. Standing behind Wallace like a shadow—unaged.
Elsa stumbled back, breath shallow. "She was there. Decades ago."
Chess caught her, his grip steady.
"She's older than we thought," he said quietly. "And far more dangerous."
Elsa looked up at him. "She wasn't just attacking Jefferson Global. She's been embedded in our legacy… since the beginning."
Suddenly – Movement
A clatter from behind. Chess spun.
But it was Devon, breathless, holding a device in her gloved hands.
"Sorry," she panted. "Didn't mean to interrupt the cosmic family reunion. But we've got a problem."
"What kind?" Elsa asked.
Devon turned the device toward them—on-screen was a livestream. Kip Mandari.
Dressed in a tailored grey suit, speaking before a press audience.
"...as acting interim chairman, I will oversee Jefferson Global's restructuring while Miss Elsa Jefferson steps away to resolve her... personal affairs."
Elsa's mouth fell open. "What the—"
"Effective immediately," Kip continued smoothly, "the executive board has voted to pause all luxury division operations, pending review."
Elsa's fists clenched. "He's gutting Elaris Luxe."
"He's making a move," Chess growled. "While we're down here chasing the past, he's rewriting the present."
Devon looked between them. "What do we do?"
Elsa's eyes burned with fire. "We go to war."