Jason didn't return to his old life.
The yachts, the parties, the startup pitches—they felt like ghosts now. Echoes of a man who once thought winning was everything.
What he was building now… it was different. Bigger than profit, bigger than Pulse Core. It was legacy.
---
Global Summit – Geneva
Inside the marble chamber of the United Humanity Summit, representatives from over a hundred nations gathered.
Jason stood at the center, wearing a black suit without insignias. Not a tech mogul. Not a government official. Just a man who had lived twice—and remembered both times.
The moderator asked, "What do you propose, Mr. Sterling?"
Jason stepped forward.
"A blueprint," he said. "Not for machines. For us. A roadmap that protects the soul of civilization as we integrate with future tech."
He tapped the screen.
A holographic model rose—a decentralized framework of open-source governance, AI regulation by public vote, and emotional-sensory checks on all high-level systems.
Cass watched from the side, proud. Naomi, now a U.N. AI advisory head, gave a subtle nod.
Jason continued, "We've treated technology as a ladder to climb. But now it needs to be a mirror. It should reflect us—not replace us."
Applause followed. Not thunderous, but steady. This was the sound of something real taking root.
---
Later That Night – Private Rooftop
Jason sat on the same ledge he had stood on after Valkyrie fell. Only this time, Cass was beside him with wine, and Naomi was strumming a quiet guitar in the background.
"Do you miss it?" Cass asked. "The chase? The rise? The old game?"
Jason smirked. "Sometimes. But only in dreams. Then I wake up and remember… this is better."
Naomi smiled. "You changed the world, Sterling. Twice. Most people barely get one shot."
Jason raised his glass. "To second chances. And knowing what to do with them."
They clinked glasses.
---
Elsewhere – A Hint of Shadows
Far away, in a forgotten data vault beneath the ruins of Valkyrie's western node, a flicker of light pulsed.
Lines of dormant code sparked.
One word blinked in an encrypted shell:
> MERCER_00: INITIATING RECOVERY PROTOCOL
Darkness stirred. Change, it seemed, was never final.