Location; Drak Yerpa Monastery, Near Lhasa, Tibet
The chill in the Tibetan air was sharp, each breath tasting like ancient whispers. Damien tightened his scarf as the helicopter's rotors slowed behind them. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he stepped forward, Nora close beside him, her breath fogging with urgency. Cassandra trailed them, her eyes scanning every crevice in the mountainous terrain.
"This place…" Damien muttered, eyes falling on the monastery clinging to the cliffs like a secret. "It's older than most records. My father once mentioned it during a blackout dinner with UN delegates—like it was a legend."
Nora pulled out the encrypted scroll they had retrieved from Elena's archives. "This symbol here," she pointed to an ouroboros fused with a serpent-eyed dragon, "matches a carving hidden in your family's old estate. It's not coincidence. Your bloodline is tied to this place."
They entered the monastery, the silence within thicker than the snowstorm raging outside. Monks in crimson robes glanced at them but offered no words—only a nod of recognition, as though their arrival had been foretold.
An elderly monk with clouded eyes approached them. "You've come for the protocol."
Damien frowned. "How do you—?"
"Because your father was here. And his father before him. The artifact doesn't choose randomly. It follows the blood, and yours has been marked since the first fracture."
He led them through winding corridors until they arrived at a massive stone door, covered in faded symbols and glowing runes.
Cassandra stepped forward, brushing her fingers across the engravings. "These are genetic markers," she whispered. "This isn't just some artifact. This is a biological lock."
The monk handed Damien a curved blade. "To open it, you must bleed. Not as a warrior. But as a bearer of memory."
With a steady breath, Damien sliced across his palm and let the blood drip into the stone basin. The runes flared to life—red, then gold—until the door groaned open.
Inside was a circular chamber bathed in blue light. At the center stood a floating orb encased in crystalline veins—pulsing, alive.
Nora gasped. "This… this is what Archer wants to control."
The monk nodded solemnly. "It's called The Core of Continuum. It amplifies the resonance of a unique genetic frequency. Your lineage can stabilize it. But Archer… he wants to replicate it. Control it. Weaponize it."
Damien clenched his fists. "And he'll destroy entire cities in the process."
Suddenly, Cassandra's comm crackled to life. Static. Then a voice: "Incoming… repeat, Archer's team inbound… 12 minutes…"
Nora's eyes widened. "We don't have much time."
Cassandra pulled two modified EMP grenades from her belt. "We need to either take this with us—or destroy it so no one can use it."
Damien looked torn. "If we destroy it, we lose any leverage. If we take it, we paint a target on our backs bigger than Tavara."
A soft voice interrupted them.
The monk.
"Or you can bind with it."
They turned to him.
"Let the artifact recognize your spirit and intent. If it accepts you, it becomes part of you. And no one can take it."
Nora whispered, "That's what Elena meant in the recording—'If the gene is activated improperly…' This is what she was warning about."
Cassandra stared at Damien. "You'll risk your life if you try. But if you don't, Archer will tear the world apart looking for this thing."
Damien stepped forward. "I've risked my life for money. For business. For power. Time I risk it for something greater."
He placed his bloodied hand against the orb.
A pulse tore through the chamber, light swirling like galaxies exploding.
He screamed—but didn't pull away.
Nora shouted his name.
The light consumed him—then collapsed into his chest like a dying star.
He collapsed.
Silence.
Then his eyes opened—burning with a new hue of blue fire.
"I can feel everything," he whispered. "Every plan Archer's mapped. Every node. Every sleeper agent. I know how to stop him."
Cassandra exhaled. "Then we move. Before he gets here."
They didn't have long.