Location: Geneva, Switzerland – Underground Vault, House of Reiss
Three layers of biometric security. Iris scan. Palm vein. Voiceprint.
Only a handful in Europe had access to the Reiss Family Vault beneath Geneva's banking quarter. And today, Damien Cross was one of them.
The steel doors groaned open, revealing a long chamber lit by blue-toned LED panels. Servers hummed against the far wall, and a round table stood at the center, surrounded by seven high-backed chairs. Each bore a crest—ancient family emblems dating back centuries.
Nora stared at the room in awe. "This is real?"
"Very real," came a voice behind her.
An elegant woman stepped forward. Silver hair tied in a tight bun, eyes as sharp as daggers. Elara Reiss. Heiress to the Reiss banking dynasty and the secret keeper of Europe's shadow elite.
"You brought the Cross boy here," she said coolly, addressing Zachary.
Zachary nodded once. "He earned his seat."
Elara's gaze swept over Damien. "We had our doubts about you. But Milan proved your grit."
"I'm not here for validation," Damien said, pulling the encrypted case from his coat. "I'm here for the truth. This chip—" he placed it on the table "—contains data that could unravel the foundations of every top conglomerate linked to Victor Kane."
At the name, Elara stiffened. So did two others who had just arrived—tall men in bespoke suits, each bearing quiet authority.
Nora interjected, "We believe Kane's been building an alternative control network—hidden accounts, sleeper executives, and deep AI systems."
Langston powered up the server.
Files began to decrypt.
Lines of code, account maps, offshore links—sprawled across the screens like webs.
Elara leaned forward. "Is that... a list of genetic matches?"
Damien nodded. "Kane has been running bloodline surveillance. Not just on enemies. On allies. He's trying to resurrect something bigger—something ancient."
Zachary turned. "The Sovereign Program."
Nora whispered, "The myths were real?"
Langston brought up a map. "Kane isn't just seizing wealth. He's seeking purity. Lineages tied to power. He wants to rewrite the global order—through blood, not ballots."
Elara stood. "Then he's declared war on all of us. The Round Table was formed to prevent tyrants from returning. It seems our mission is far from over."
Damien looked around the room. For the first time, he felt the weight of legacy and responsibility collide in real time.
"If we're doing this," he said, "we do it on our terms."
Elara gave a rare nod. "Then the Cross seat is now active. Welcome to the Round Table."
The vault doors shut behind them.
The war had gone global. And Damien Cross now had a league of power behind him.
But the enemy had already made his next move.