Location; Temple of Eresh, Sahara Edge, Morocco
The ancient walls groaned as if awakening from a thousand-year slumber. Archer stood at the heart of the buried temple, flanked by his most loyal mercenaries and Amaru, whose hands now trembled despite his earlier certainty.
Before them lay a colossal stone chamber encased in obsidian and etched with pulsating symbols. Hovering mid-air in a magnetic field was a narrow, crystalline device—sleek, humming with a low, unnatural frequency.
"The Vox Divina," Archer whispered, his voice half reverent, half ravenous.
Amaru stepped forward cautiously. "This was never meant to leave the temple."
Archer didn't flinch. "Then why did they leave a map?" He turned to his tech chief. "Extract it. Securely."
Just then, the walls erupted. Debris flew in all directions as an explosion ripped through the rear entrance. A special ops team burst in—led by Damien Blackwood, armor-clad and fuming with purpose.
"Archer!" Damien's voice thundered, amplified through his comms. "Step away from the device!"
Archer barely turned. "Too late, cousin."
Gas hissed. Flash grenades detonated. What followed was chaos: fists, bullets, and betrayals all in the span of thirty seconds. Nora moved like a phantom through the fray, eyes fixed not on Archer—but on Amaru. She recognized the fear in his stance. He wasn't loyal to Archer—he was scared of what he'd unleashed.
"Help us shut it down," she said.
Amaru hesitated—then nodded.
In the midst of it all, Kiera Banes emerged from the shadows, gun raised—aimed at Damien.
"You should've known," she hissed, face twisted with pain and loyalty. "My family never forgot what your empire did to ours."
Damien stared her down, unfazed. "Then finish it."
But before Kiera could fire, a shot rang out—not from Damien's team, but from Lucien. Kiera dropped to the floor, blood blooming across her chest.
Lucien lowered his weapon. "Family drama exhausts me."
Archer snarled, throwing down a flash bomb. The chamber turned to white and fire. When the smoke cleared—he was gone. Along with the Vox Divina.
---
Three hours later, back at the Casablanca safehouse, Nora tended to a wounded Reuben. Her fingers worked with a precision that masked the fury behind her calm.
"He took it," she murmured. "He's going to use it."
Damien stood at the window, a storm behind his eyes. "Not yet. He needs the other half."
Layla entered with urgency. "Intercepted chatter. Archer's headed to the Kamchatka Peninsula. There's a hidden Soviet-era vault—some kind of resonance chamber. He thinks he can amplify the device's range from there."
Lucien tossed a folder onto the table. "Then that's where we go. But it won't be just Archer we're facing."
"Who else?" Damien asked.
Lucien met his eyes. "The Russians. The Triads. And the Ghost Syndicate. They're all converging. And some of them… are our blood."