Jonathan Mercer's footsteps sounded strangely loud in the quiet Founders’ Chamber. Nobody said a word. Above them, a red countdown kept ticking down. 05:58. Adrian couldn't take his eyes off the man everyone had believed was dead for years. Victor Kingston looked so pale. Eleanor stood frozen, her usual confidence starting to waver. Jonathan finally stopped under the harsh white lights. His silver hair framed a face that had clearly lived, not surrendered. Deep lines creased his forehead, but his eyes were sharp and steady. He carefully set a worn leather briefcase on the marble floor. "I suppose you all have questions," he said. His voice carried a quiet authority, the kind that comes from no longer fearing what might happen. Elias took a hesitant step forward. "You were one of the founde
