"Okay. Okay. We need to move. How long do we have?"
"Approximately ninety seconds before the security system registers his biometric failure."
"Right. Okay. Let's go."
Cyprian steps over the frozen enforcer and presses his palm to the biometric lock beside the door.
For a moment, nothing happens.
And then Kael's voice crackles through the earpiece.
"Encryption virus deployed. Bypassing biometric protocols now."
The lock flashes red.
Then yellow.
Then green.
The black glass doors hiss open.
And we step inside.
The vault room is smaller than I expected.
Maybe fifteen feet by twenty, with black glass walls, recessed lighting, and a single console in the center of the space.
The console is sleek—all smooth surfaces and glowing blue interfaces, the kind of tech that probably costs more than my entire life savings.
And sitting in the center of it, locked into a biometric cradle, is the data drive.
Small.
Unassuming.
Just a black rectangular chip about the size of my thumb.
But it contains everything.
Sentinel Dynamics' master ledger.
Every illegal contract.
Every bio-engineering violation.
Every piece of leverage Marcus Hale has used to build his empire.
Cyprian moves toward the console, his frame casting shadows across the glowing interface.
He doesn't hesitate.
Doesn't pause.
He just reaches out, wraps his clawed hand around the data drive, andripsit free from the cradle.
The sound is sharp—metal tearing, circuits snapping, the biometric lock shattering under the force.
His amber veins flare bright gold, triumphant and absolutely feral.
