Jonathan Mercer reclined in his ergonomic chair, watching the surveillance feed with growing intensity. The van parked outside the Evans residence had yielded nothing of value for two solid weeks. He drummed his fingers against the polished mahogany desk, the rhythmic tapping betraying his frustration.

  “Something’s not right,” he said, his chin resting contemplatively on his hand.

  Anders, his head of security, looked up from his tablet. A former Delta Force operative with twenty years of combat experience, Anders had the build of a professional athlete and the hypervigilance of someone who’d survived multiple war zones. His scalp was shaved clean, and a thin scar ran from his left ear to the corner of his mouth.

  “What do you mean, sir?” Anders asked, his voice carrying the measured calm of a man accustomed to crisis.

  “I’ve got the grades from their tutors.” Jonathan slid the tablet across the desk, the expensive device gliding smoothly across the polished surface. “Tell me what strikes you as odd.”

  Anders scanned the information, his expression unchanging until a slight furrowing of his brow betrayed his confusion. “I don’t see anything wrong, sir. They all seem to be doing...” His fingers swiped through multiple screens before he paused. “Wait. This can’t be right. They’re acing every class?”

  “Exactly.” Jonathan leaned forward, his tailored suit shifting smoothly with the movement. “Among all the privileged children I’ve monitored, legitimate or otherwise, have you ever seen such consistent excellence? And more importantly, why? If you won the proverbial lottery and your family line never needed to work again, why pursue advanced Physics and Quantum theory?”

  The question hung in the air between them. Jonathan’s ambition had earned him his position as Sophronia’s second-in-command at thirty-five, making him the youngest Regional Director in Illuminati history. But he hadn’t risen this far by missing patterns.

  “How do you want to handle this, sir? Brute force or subtle?” Anders asked, already calculating tactical approaches.

  Jonathan considered, mentally weighing his options against what he knew of Sophronia’s preferences. She valued precision and discretion. But she also expected results.

  “Let’s focus on the wife. Aurora was her name.” Jonathan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “She seems upstanding and honest to a fault. Let’s see if we can probe her a bit. Bring her in to the local police station on any pretext.”

  Anders immediately pulled out his phone, his efficiency one of the reasons Jonathan kept him close. “She’s on her way home from Lake Tuscaloosa at the moment, sir. Want to grab her now?”

  Jonathan stared across the room, contemplating the variables. Something about this assignment felt different. The Evans family was an anomaly, and anomalies made him uneasy. They represented unpredictability in a world he’d worked tirelessly to control.

  “Go ahead and do it,” he said decisively. “I’ll meet you at the local station personally. Use the usual room with our surveillance equipment.”

  Anders nodded and issued the order. Both men headed out, unaware they were about to make a grievous miscalculation.

  Thirty minutes later, Aurora Evans was pulled over by a police cruiser on the outskirts of town. The Illuminati’s reach extended deep into local law enforcement—a network carefully cultivated through strategic donations, blackmail, and the occasional placement of loyal assets.

  As the officer approached, Aurora glanced down at her speedometer, acknowledging she’d been driving a bit fast. The afternoon sun glinted off her wedding ring as she lowered her window.

  “Hi ma’am, do you know how fast you were going?” Officer Morris asked, his aviator sunglasses reflecting her face back at her.

  Aurora assumed her most contrite expression. “I am so sorry, officer. I’ve been under extreme pressure and took a drive to clear my head. I apologize for the speeding. I’ll take whatever ticket you need to issue.”

  The officer regarded her for a long moment, then walked around the car, checking the license plate and taillight with deliberate slowness.

  “Ma’am, did you know that your taillight was out?”

  Aurora leaned out the window, genuine confusion crossing her features. “No, I didn’t. I’ll make sure to get it fixed right away, officer.”

  Without warning, Morris retrieved his baton and swung it at the rear light, shattering it. Aurora flinched at the sound, a flicker of something dangerous crossing her face before she carefully controlled her expression.

  “That’s a very suspicious tag you have as well,” Morris continued, his tone shifting from professional to menacing. “I think you need to come downtown with me to have a conversation.”

  Aurora felt her heart rate accelerate, not from fear but from the familiar surge of adrenaline that preceded combat. She’d fought monsters that made this man look like a harmless puppy. She’d died protecting her family from horrors this man couldn’t begin to imagine. But now wasn’t the time for that Aurora to emerge.

  Instead, she dialed up her Southern accent and assumed the role of a frightened woman, even as she texted “911 dirty cop” to Alexander as he walked around the car.

  “You haven’t asked for my ID yet, officer,” she said, her voice trembling convincingly. “I don’t understand why I need to come with you. You pulled me over and within ten minutes, with no proof of who you are or badge number, you broke my light and asked me to follow you.”

  As she played the role of scared blonde, her right hand gripped the steering wheel with enough force to cause a small crack in the material. She relaxed her grip, remembering that controlling her enhanced strength was essential to maintaining her cover.

  In her mind, she imagined facing this man in the other timeline; how laughably outmatched he would be against someone who had battled Knightmares and survived. The thought almost made her smile.

  “Ma’am, I know this is scary,” Morris said, his hand resting on his weapon. “However, your personal and car description match ones we have an alert out for. You’re not going to cause a problem now, are you?”

  Aurora rapidly assessed her options. This was clearly no ordinary traffic stop. She suspected Alexander would want her to gather intelligence rather than create a scene, so she decided to play along for now.

  “I’m so sorry, you’re right, officer,” she said, extending her hands through the window for the cuffs. She manufactured tears, drawing on memories of loss and fear from the other timeline to make them convincing.

  “Don’t worry, Miss Evans, this is probably just a misunderstanding, and you’ll be back before you know it,” Morris said, attempting to sound reassuring.

  “I never told you my name,” Aurora noted carefully, probing for information.

  “Am I in trouble? You’re not gonna hurt me, are you, sir?” she continued, maintaining her frightened facade.

  Morris didn’t answer, but something in his expression confirmed her suspicions. This was a coordinated operation, and she was the target.

  As she was brought to the local police station and escorted through a side entrance, bypassing the normal booking procedures; she noticed how the other officers turned away as they passed, their deliberate avoidance speaking volumes.

  Only one thing made cops retreat from their own kind like this, power. The kind that transcended badges and jurisdictions. The kind wielded by organizations that operated in the shadows.

  She was brought to a small, windowless room equipped with surveillance technology that seemed far too sophisticated for a local police station. A muscular man with a shaved head waited inside, his posture military precise.

  “Mrs. Evans, my name is Anders,” he said with practiced politeness. “I apologize for bringing you in on such short notice, but we needed to be careful. We’ll just ask a few questions, and you can be on your way. First, please state your full name.”

  Aurora studied him, her enhanced senses cataloging details. The way he stood, the calluses on his hands, the slight bulge where his concealed weapon rested, this was no ordinary investigator. He was a professional operator, likely ex-military special forces.

  In the past timeline, Aurora had learned to quickly assess threats. Anders would be dangerous in a physical confrontation, but not insurmountable. Officer Morris at the door with his baton would be trivial. Neither represented the real threat in this situation.

  “I’m going to give you a series of statements,” she said, her tone shifting from frightened victim to something harder and more confident.

  “I’m not going to answer your questions. You, very obviously, aren’t police Anders. You’re not even the person I should be talking to, are you? I’m going to sit here and wait for my husband to arrive. He’s who you want anyway, right?”

  Stolen story; please report.

  She turned toward each surveillance camera her enhanced vision could detect, then directed her gaze to the two-way mirror. “So pathetically expected.”

  Anders shifted uncomfortably, caught off guard by her sudden transformation.

  “Hey..hey! Pay attention!” she said while snapping her fingers; stealing the momentum in the room.

  “This is the moment that you establish who you are and what you’d like from me.” Aurora rotated her hand in a “get on with it” motion. “I have no information for you. My husband should be arriving within the next..hmm…fifteen minutes or so, and I guarantee you something.”

  Her voice dropped its playful Southern charm, taking on the tone of a battle-hardened warrior. “This will not go the way you think it will.”

  She settled back in her chair, positioning herself facing the two-way mirror. Somehow, she knew the true authority was watching from behind that glass.

  Anders attempted to regain control of the interrogation. “Aurora Evans. Born in 1980, married to Alexander Evans. Looks like you’ve stayed out of trouble other than a couple of domestic violence charges against some local boys who got carried away at a bar. Not a real loss for society.” He shrugged. “I see that your family just came into a lot of money. Would you like to explain that to the government?”

  Aurora ignored him, her attention fixed on the mirror and the presence she sensed behind it. “I only have one thing to say,” she stated with absolute certainty. “You guys have really stepped in it; much deeper than you probably know.”

  As Anders continued his questioning, a change came over the room. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees.

  Aurora felt it first, a subtle pressure in the air, like the stillness before a thunderstorm. Her enhanced senses detected a familiar presence approaching, and she struggled to keep her expression neutral. He had always been adept at minimizing and maximizing his presence with mana.

  The door to the interrogation room hadn’t opened. There had been no footsteps, no warning at all. Yet suddenly, the atmosphere in the room changed. Anders paused mid-sentence, a flicker of unease crossing his face as he sensed someone watching him.

  “They really did.” The voice came from the corner of the room.

  Alexander Evans stood there, his presence commanding attention despite his unassuming appearance. A crisp black suit, gray dress shirt with the top button open, and thin-framed glasses created the image of an intellectual rather than a warrior. Yet something in his posture, in the stillness with which he held himself, suggested he left no openings.

  Officer Morris, Anders, and several men from the hallway drew their weapons simultaneously, startled by the sudden appearance of someone who hadn’t been there a moment before. Anders’ training kicked in as he scanned the room for entry points, finding none that could explain Evans’ presence.

  “How the hell did you get in here?” Anders demanded, his weapon trained on Alexander.

  “You have me at a loss, Mr. Anders,” Alexander said, his voice calm as if they were discussing the weather rather than facing multiple drawn weapons. “You know me,” he said while pointing to Aurora. “and you’re obviously comfortable enough to kidnap my wife and bring her to a police station in broad daylight.”

  He continued unhurriedly, seemingly oblivious to the guns aimed at him. “I noticed that you brought her past every official room. Her ID wasn’t taken, and her car was left on the side of the road. No lawyer and no phone call.” His eyes scanned the room analytically. “That’s enough power to get a lot of moving pieces into place.”

  Anders, responding to instructions through his earpiece, gestured downward with his hands. “Why don’t we all relax and have a chat.”

  “No, that’s not going to happen,” Alexander replied firmly. “We’re going to get up and walk out. You could have texted or emailed and I would have come to visit you, Jonathan.” His gaze shifted to the two-way mirror, acknowledging the man behind it. “Instead, you go about this the roundabout way and cause more issues with your lack of respect. Sophronia would be most displeased with your ineptitude. I’ll deal with her from now on, have her contact me and I’ll receive the call.”

  Anders felt a chill run down his spine at the casual mention of Sophronia’s name. Few outside the organization knew of her existence, let alone her position.

  “You and I are done however,” Alexander continued. “You’re too reckless.”

  He turned toward Officer Morris. “And you, you took my wife off the street like a common criminal. You and every person who allowed this breach of conduct will be severely reprimanded. I promise you.”

  Behind the two-way mirror, Jonathan Mercer stood frozen, a bead of sweat tracing down his temple. Something primal within him recognized danger, the same instinct that had kept humanity alive for millennia. Every fiber of his being screamed that he was in the presence of something extremely dangerous.

  “Let them go,” Jonathan ordered through his microphone, watching as Anders relayed the command.

  Aurora stood, touching her husband’s arm with a gentle smile. “It’s alright, I wasn’t harmed in the least. Just my pride babe. It’s ok.”

  The pressure in the room subsided slightly, but as Alexander moved toward the door, Officer Morris blocked their path, his gun still drawn.

  “Now you wait just a damn minute.” His voice had an edge that sent tension rippling through the room. “You don’t get to go whenever you please.”

  “Let them go, officer,” Anders ordered sharply, recognizing the escalating danger.

  Morris ignored him, stepping closer to Alexander until they were nearly face to face. Morris’s breath came in short, angry bursts, his complexion reddening with each passing second.

  “I really don’t like you,” he said, each word dripping with venom, “or the way your kind act when they get money.” His lips curled in disgust. “It’s very uppity.”

  The slur hung in the air like a live grenade. Anders winced visibly, his eyes darting between Morris and Alexander. Even the surveillance technicians behind the glass seemed to hold their breath.

  Alexander stood perfectly still; his expression unchanged. But something shifted in his eyes, a dangerous gleam that transformed his gaze from analytical to predatory. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier again, charged with potential violence.

  When Alexander spoke, his voice was soft, almost gentle. “Officer Morris, I’d like you to think very carefully about your next action.” He adjusted his glasses slightly. “The consequences will be... significant.”

  Morris’s hand tightened on his weapon, his knuckles whitening with strain. “Are you threatening a police officer?” His free hand moved toward Alexander’s collar.

  Before his fingers could make contact, Aurora moved. Her movements were fluid and precise, a dance she’d performed countless times in another lifetime. She grabbed Morris’s gun arm at the wrist, twisting it outward as she simultaneously stepped into his space. With practiced efficiency, she rotated her body, using his momentum against him.

  In one smooth motion, she had Morris’s arm locked painfully behind his back, her knee pressed into the back of his legs, forcing him down to a kneeling position facing away from them. The transition from standing officer to subdued suspect happened so quickly that Anders barely had time to react.

  “You bitch!” Morris screamed, his face contorted with rage and humiliation. Spittle flew from his lips as he continued, “I’ll have you locked up and beaten for this! I’ve got you on video! You’ll never—”

  “Show it, please. So everyone can see how the dainty little girl that you just brought in, with no priors or reasoning, just kicked your ass?” Aurora cut him off, her voice deadly calm. She leaned closer to his ear, tightening her grip slightly. “With all these cameras in here, this would be an interesting thing to show to your friends and family, wouldn’t it? Much less the public seeing how their tax dollars are being spent.”

  Morris struggled against her hold, but Aurora’s grip was ironclad. Years of fighting for survival had given her strength that defied her elegant appearance. Every time he moved, she adjusted her hold, causing him to wince in pain.

  Alexander observed the scene with clinical detachment. Then, with a slight nod, he spoke. “It’s okay, Aurora. Let him go.”

  Aurora’s expression hardened. She looked around the room, addressing everyone present. “The worst part…is that he’ll still save all of you.” Her voice dropped to a contemptuous whisper. “Pathetic.”

  She released Morris with a small shove, sending him stumbling forward. Without another word, Alexander and Aurora walked out of the interrogation room and through the front door of the station. No one made any move to stop them.

  In the car, Aurora turned to her husband. “I’m sorry, babe.”

  “You never have to apologize for defending yourself or your family,” Alexander replied, his focus elsewhere as he processed the implications of what had just happened. “However, plans have changed. My carelessness has brought the attention of groups I wasn’t prepared to deal with yet.”

  “I forget that most of these organizations have been around since man learned to harness fire. The moment I recognized Jonathan, I realized who we were dealing with. The man in the room was one of the future heads of The Merchant’s Guild.”

  “Oh my God!” Aurora exclaimed. “The guys who controlled the Air Force Bases after the military fell?”

  Alexander nodded. “They’re part of a full organization that spanned the globe before a civil war between their leaders fractured the group. Remember Sophie and the Illuminati.”

  His fingers tapped a complex rhythm against the steering wheel as he recalculated timelines and strategies. “It seems that my time of peace and quiet has come to an end. I might have to take a more active role in shaping the future. We’re about to get busier.”

  He turned on Paganini’s Caprice No. 24, the violin’s haunting melody filling the car. According to legend, Paganini had made a pact with the devil to acquire magical powers, enabling him to create effects on the violin beyond human capability.

  As Alexander drove in silence, the music weaving around them, Aurora reclined in her seat. When he entered these states of deep strategic thought, conversation was pointless. The cogs were turning, plans shifting and reforming in that brilliant mind of his.

  She smiled, listening to the music and watching the subtle intensity in her husband’s profile. They were charging headlong into danger, antagonizing powers that had shaped world events for centuries. And yet, she’d never felt more alive.

  She loved this man, with all his complexity and hidden depths. And no matter what powerful enemies stood against them; she would stand by his side until the end of time.

  Or at least, until the end of the world.

  Behind the two-way mirror, Jonathan Mercer stood frozen, his composure shattered. He had just witnessed something that defied explanation; how had Evans entered a secured room without anyone seeing him? And the wife... her movements had been too fast, too precise for an ordinary civilian.

  His hand trembled slightly as he rewound the surveillance footage, watching it again in disbelief.

  “Anders!” he called sharply.

  “Sir?” Anders approached; his professional demeanor strained after the confrontation.

  “Look right here,” Jonathan said, pointing to a paused frame showing Aurora’s face during the takedown of Officer Morris. “What do you see? Tell me I’m not seeing things.”

  Anders leaned closer, studying the image. His breath caught. “Her eyes, sir.” He traced a finger over the screen. “They’re glowing with golden light.”

  Jonathan nodded slowly, a chill running down his spine. He advanced the footage frame by frame, stopping at the moment Alexander had first appeared in the room. “And here; look at this.” He pointed to the corner where Alexander had seemingly materialized. “The cameras show no one entering, yet suddenly he’s there. As if he just walked through the walls.”

  “What the hell are we dealing with?” he whispered, more to himself than to Anders.

  Anders, who had seen more than his share of combat and bloodshed, looked genuinely unsettled. “Sir, when Evans was in the room... I’ve only felt that kind of fear once before. Stepping on a landmine.” He hesitated, searching for words. “It felt like death was standing right next to me.”

  Jonathan swallowed hard. One thing was certain, Sophronia needed to be informed immediately. This wasn’t just about unusual investment patterns or unexplained success. This was something else entirely. Something that could either elevate his position within the organization or destroy him completely.

  He reached for his secure phone, his decision made. “Get me everything you can on Evans,” he ordered. “Every detail, no matter how insignificant it seems.”

  As Anders left to carry out his instructions, Jonathan stared at the frozen image of Alexander Evans on the screen. There was something in those eyes, something that made Jonathan’s skin crawl.

  He had a sinking feeling that he had just stumbled into something far beyond his understanding. Something that would change the course of his carefully planned future.

  Only time would tell how this encounter would reshape his destiny. But one thing was certain; Alexander Evans was no ordinary man.