— Countdown to cleansing
The glow faded.
The courtyard fell silent. But the air still thrummed—dense with memory and a force just beyond perception.
Shawn could've sworn one of the stones pulsed gold for the briefest instant—aimed directly at him.
Kennedy stood tall, her voice resolute. "The Prophet Ring has spoken. Mr. Ranzi will lead us forward."
Around them, the shattered hall began to reassemble—tiles sliding into place, scorched beams knitting together as if time itself reversed.
All eyes turned to Ranzi. He stood unharmed.
Azman wiped blood from his lip and sneered. "Parlor tricks. Smoke and mirrors."
Dora's Core flared—gold rising from her boots like molten light.
"He walked through elemental fury untouched. That's not deception. That's mastery."
She turned to the others. "The earth recognizes who stands firm."
Kim Yong-myung hesitated, drenched and pale. "I... can't deny what we saw."
And with that, the mood shifted.
Ranzi now wore the meteorite jade ring—the sharp V engraved on its surface marked him as Grand Hierophant.
He stepped to the podium, raising his hands with a scholar's precision.
His voice was steady, low but resolute, as he began the Hierophant's oath:
"I pledge to uphold the sacred balance between civilization and technological advancement. To honor the—"
Then the overhead lights cut out.
Not darkness exactly—daylight still filtered through the fractured arches above—but the shift was jarring.
For a breath, the hall froze.
Shawn's Core flared in warning, ghosting his vision with outlines—security teams tensing, hands reaching for weapons.
A beat later, Quinn was at the podium.
"Before you crown your Hierophant," he said, voice like steel, "ask him why the O.S.S. spared him—when they killed the rest."
Ranzi didn't flinch, but his grip on the podium tightened.
"These accusations only serve those who thrive on division," he said, scanning the crowd. "I stood against them."
Then came the click of a chip sliding into the console.
Footage burst across the screens—chaos in the lab, screams echoing, faceless observers behind glass.
And then: the image.
Ranzi's reflection.
Watching.
Not a victim.
A witness.
Ranzi's eyes widened—not with guilt, but disbelief.
"No… this isn't right. I recorded this! That's why they framed me!"
Security moved in.
Quinn had disappeared.
Lindsay's voice crackled in Shawn's earpiece:
"We've got a problem."
The first explosion shook the Villa. Black stone rained from above.
Ranzi reached toward Shawn—sharp, urgent.
"Listen. The election sabotage—it's just a smokescreen. The real target is…"
His voice fractured, swallowed by interference:
"Find… all… before they—"
Then he was gone. No scream.
Only his robe, spiraling down like ash.
A burst of static, then Lindsay's voice pierced the comm:
"They're jamming everything! He's—"
The third explosion cut her off—closer this time.
A shockwave slammed through the corridor. Stone shards rained from above. Heat licked at Shawn's back.
He ran forward, instinct taking over
Smoke thickened, choking the air.
Lindsay's voice returned—frayed, barely holding:
"They're hitting the villa. If they destroy the Prophet Ring—"
"They erase everything," Shawn said, breath catching.
No hesitation.
He spun on his heel and ran back.
The villa was already breached.
Inside, O.S.S. operatives smashed terminals and loaded data onto a hover-sled.
At their center stood Commander Veyd—his face a patchwork of scars, neural implants glowing red.
The Thunder Core surged. Two agents crumpled to the ground.
Veyd looked up—and smiled.
"Thunder Core," he said. "We've been looking for you."
Shawn barely had time to react—
The floor collapsed beneath him.
He crashed into the basement. Fractal scars lit the walls in a dull pulse.
Veyd's voice echoed from above.
"Your Core should've died with the others. Why did it choose you?"
Then—
A new voice cut through the chaos.
Calm. Low.
Quinn.
"Stupid move."
He hauled Shawn to his feet.
"Don't freeze. They've wired the entire villa. It's set to blow. Six minutes."
Shawn coughed out dust, lungs burning. His thoughts scrambled—Ranzi, the explosions, the failed warning.
"Ranzi?" he choked.
"Alive," Quinn said, eyes scanning the corridor. "O.S.S. took him. And the other Core-linked Soul Kin."
"What? But they were only Soul Kin—"
His earpiece screamed to life, static tearing through the comm: "Shawn, where are you?!" Lindsay's voice was desperate
Shawn opened his mouth—too late.
Quinn yanked him forward, no time for answer.
"The others are out," Quinn said. "We're the last."
Five minutes.
They burst onto the landing pad.
Lindsay's transport hovered at the edge.
Shawn stopped, turning back toward Quinn. "We leave together."
Quinn's smile was faint, almost sad.
"They won't stop, Shawn. Not while you live."
Another explosion thundered behind them.
Before Shawn could react, Quinn stepped back—into the smoke.
"No!" Shawn lunged—
But Quinn was gone.
Engines roared overhead. The transport lifted, slicing through the haze.
Below, the villa collapsed. Stone and history falling into nothing.
Newsfeeds spun their loop—
Footage of fire and ruin.
The moment Ranzi vanished.
The cold repetition of official denial.
In the safehouse, Lindsay paced.
Not out of impatience, but pressure—like she might rupture if she stopped moving.
On-screen, Ranzi's image froze mid-sentence, mouth open, eyes fixed in warning.
"They cut him off," she whispered. "They cut his warning. We're blind. Every archive—wiped."
Her voice caught. "Everything we had... it's gone. There's only one—"
"I have it."
Shawn's voice was quiet.
He held up the chip.
Its label shimmered in the dim light:
THE TRUE TARGET: FINAL CLEANSING.
Lindsay froze.
Her breath hitched. "Where did that come from?"
"Ranzi threw it to me. Just before they took him."
Shawn could still feel the weight of it in his hand—the desperate arc, the look in Ranzi's eyes.
Then the Thunder Core on the desk gave a low, resonant hum.
A new alert blinked into view:
Energy spikes. Glacial Basin.
The Thunder Core had recognized something.
Not just energy—it felt like memory.
A voice waiting to be heard again.
She turned to him. "Then... what do we do?"
Shawn straightened. His fear didn't fade—but it crystallized into resolve.
"We find Elder Li.
We get Ranzi back.
And we stop whatever comes next."
Outside, the wind had shifted.
The storm was no longer just weather—it was a warning.
Moisture blurred the screen of Shawn's phone. The countdown flickered:
2031.07.01｜17D:00:00:00
Time wasn't just running out for them—
It was running out for everyone.