The transition to a quiet life had one final hurdle: the world Einstein had built was too large to simply vanish. While he spent his Saturday mornings fixing a leaky faucet or arguing with a neighbor about the shared fence, the "Jacob Effect" was still rippling across the globe.
It had been six months since Bradley Jr.'s failed ambush. Einstein sat on his small balcony, the scent of rain-dampened pavement rising from the street below. He was reading a physical book—a biography of an explorer—when he felt a familiar, subtle shift in the air pressure. It wasn't the crushing weight of a Sovereign, but the disciplined, silent presence of a professional.
He didn't look up from his page. "The door was unlocked, Rhea."
Rhea stepped out from the shadows of the living room, dressed in civilian clothes. She looked tired. "The Vanguard is restless, Einstein. We've spent the last few months acting as 'security consultants' for the charities, but the world is getting louder. The power vacuum you left isn't just attracting vultures anymore. It's attracting architects."
Einstein finally closed his book. "I gave back the Seal, Rhea. I'm just a man with a 401k and a mortgage. I can't lead an army."
"We don't need an army," Rhea said, leaning against the railing. "We need a ghost. Someone is systematically buying up the Jacob-Vanguard's medical patents. They aren't using money; they're using 'Trade Secrets'—technologies that shouldn't exist for another fifty years."
The Legacy's Shadow
Einstein felt a familiar itch behind his eyes. Even without the Sovereign power, his mind was still the mind of a man who had managed $10 trillion. He could see the patterns.
"Who's the buyer?" Einstein asked.
"A company called Nova-Genesis," Rhea replied. "They appeared out of nowhere three weeks ago. Their CEO is a ghost. But the patents they're targeting are specifically the ones Elara worked on—the ones involving the stabilization of human cells."
Einstein stood up. He looked back into the apartment, where Felicity was sleeping peacefully. He had promised her peace. But he realized that true peace wasn't the absence of conflict; it was the ability to protect the quiet life they had built.
"Don't wake Felicity," Einstein whispered. "Show me the data."
The New Front Line
They met in a nondescript van parked two blocks away. Nick and Simon were there, looking sharper than ever, hunched over holographic displays that Einstein had helped them build before he retired.
"Look at the acquisition pattern, Ein," Nick said, his voice hushed. "They aren't just buying the patents. They're hiring the researchers. And they're doing it by offering them 'Longevity.' Not medical treatments—actual, biological time."
Einstein stared at the screen. He saw the signature of the technology. It wasn't the Orion Syndicate or the Council. It was a refined, stabilized version of the Void Engine logic.
"The Accountant didn't just want the money," Einstein realized, his voice a low growl. "He wanted a way to live forever. He leaked the data before I crushed his servers. He sold the future of the human race to the highest bidder."
The Ghost's Gambit
Einstein didn't reach for a weapon. He reached for a keyboard.
"I don't have the 25th-level power to rewrite the world's code anymore," Einstein said to Nick. "But I still know every backdoor I built into the Vanguard's infrastructure. If Nova-Genesis thinks they can use our tech to create an elite class of immortals, they've forgotten who wrote the source code."
For the next four hours, Einstein Jacob worked. His fingers moved with a rhythm that felt like a martial arts form. He wasn't striking a man; he was striking a network.
He didn't delete the patents. He did something far more devastating: he Open-Sourced them.
"If everyone has access to longevity," Einstein whispered as he hit the final 'Enter' key, "the currency of time becomes worthless. You can't lead a world of immortals if no one is afraid to die."
The Dawn of the Commoner
As the sun began to rise over London, every medical university and public hospital on the planet received a massive data dump. The secrets of cell stabilization—the "Legacy of the Jacob Clan"—were no longer the property of a billionaire or a hidden Sovereign. They belonged to humanity.
Einstein stepped out of the van, the cool morning air hitting his face. He felt a profound sense of lightness. He hadn't used a golden palm or a blue aura to save the day. He had used his brain and his sense of fairness.
"What now, sir?" Rhea asked, looking at him with a new kind of respect.
"Now," Einstein said, stretching his aching back, "I go home and make breakfast before Felicity wakes up. And Rhea?"
"Yes?"
"Tell the Vanguard they have a new mission. They aren't bodyguards anymore. They're 'Information Librarians.' Protect the data. Make sure it stays free."
The Final Dividend
Einstein walked back to his apartment, the city beginning to wake up around him. He climbed the stairs—no flying, no folding space—feeling every step in his human muscles.
He let himself in quietly and started the coffee. A few minutes later, Felicity walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes.
"You're up early," she remarked, smelling the coffee.
"Just had some thoughts about that ad campaign for the bakery," Einstein lied smoothly, pulling her into a hug. "I think we should go with a theme of 'Timeless Quality'."
"Timeless, huh?" Felicity smiled, leaning against him. "Sounds expensive."
"Actually," Einstein said, looking at his reflection in the window—just a man, just a husband, just a neighbor—"it's free for everyone."
Einstein Jacob sat down at his small kitchen table, took a sip of his coffee, and opened his book. The world was still complicated, and there would always be new vultures, but for now, the ledger was balanced.
He was exactly where he belonged.