The suffocating reality of the mercenary’s confession hung heavily in the freezing, climate-controlled air of the Black Archives. A massive, heavily armed coalition of our absolute worst enemies. The remnants of the Russian Bratva, the deeply corrupted federal agents we had forcefully leashed, the humiliated European cartels—they had all entirely swallowed their immense pride and joined forces under the pristine white mask of the Phantom Syndicate. They were completely united by a single, terrifying goal: our absolute destruction.
Valerius stood perfectly still amidst the towering steel server racks, his massive chest heaving slowly. The apocalyptic fury in his icy blue eyes was rapidly cooling into a deeply terrifying, absolute calculation. The devil wasn't just a brutal enforcer; he was
