Chapter Six: Nine Minutes
814 Words
Red light pulsed through the penthouse like a heartbeat—slow, foreboding, merciless.
Valeria stood frozen, her back pressed against Rafe’s desk, the air thick with unspoken panic. Outside the panoramic windows, the city glittered, blissfully unaware of the war breaking loose behind tinted glass.
Nine minutes.
That’s all the voice had said.
That’s all the time she had.
To do what?
She grabbed Rafe by the wrist. “Is there a panic room? Safe exit?”
“Yes,” he said, voice taut. “But it won’t matter. If Crane wants us dead, he won’t use the front door.”
Valeria didn’t respond. Her mind was already racing.
Her mother was Marlow Crane’s sister.
She was born Selene Crane.
Which meant...
Valeria was a Crane, too.
Blood of the man orchestrating this entire nightmare ran through her veins. She wasn’t just caught in a war—she was legacy to it.
Rafe touched her shoulder. “We have to go. Now.”
She nodded, but just as they turned toward the hallway, the apartment's touchscreen control panel blinked—and a live feed filled the screen.
Security cameras.
And on the rooftop, someone was already waiting.
A figure cloaked in black, gun slung low, pacing like a predator.
Valeria’s heart dropped.
It was Reyes.
---
The private elevator had been disabled, so Rafe led her through a hidden stairwell tucked behind a wall panel in his bedroom closet.
Three flights down.
Each step a countdown.
“I never wanted this for you,” he said as they moved. “You were supposed to be left alone. Untouched.”
“You think this is about want?” she snapped. “This is about blood. About debt. My mother made me the key and didn’t even give me the map.”
They reached the sub-level—a sleek hall with reinforced steel walls. At the end: a matte black door with biometric access.
Rafe pressed his palm to the scanner. It blinked.
ACCESS DENIED.
“What?” he hissed. “They’ve already overridden my clearance.”
Valeria stepped forward and, without hesitation, placed her own palm on the panel.
It scanned her—paused.
ACCESS GRANTED.
The door hissed open.
They exchanged a look.
She didn’t say it.
But they both understood.
Marlow Crane had programmed her into this long ago.
---
Inside, the panic room wasn’t a room at all.
It was a control center.
Screens covered the walls. Live feeds. Audio files. Digital schematics. It wasn’t designed to hide—it was designed to watch.
Valeria spotted a blinking folder on the primary console labeled:
“Project Eden.”
She clicked.
The screen flickered.
A video began to play.
Her mother—Cassandra, or Selene Crane—sat across from Marlow. No disguises. No anger. Just… sorrow.
> “You built this to survive the world’s end,” her mother said.
“No,” Marlow replied. “I built it to rewrite it.”
“And if I refuse to activate it?”
“Then your daughter will.”
“You don’t know her.”
“She’s your daughter. She’ll seek truth like oxygen. She’ll come.”
“Then I pray she never finds you.”
Valeria’s breath caught.
This wasn’t just a vendetta.
It was a genetic plan.
---
A second file auto-played.
This one showed Nico.
Strapped to a chair. Bruised. Bleeding.
Marlow sat opposite him.
> “She still thinks you're trying to protect her,” Marlow said, amused.
“Because I am.”
“You never told her the truth.”
“It would break her.”
“That she was never meant to survive?”
“That she’s the trigger.”
Valeria stumbled back.
Trigger?
What did that mean?
Rafe turned to her. “Val—what the hell is Project Eden?”
She couldn’t speak. Could barely breathe.
---
Alarms flared again. The countdown reached 00:01:17.
Reyes was in the building.
And she wasn’t coming to negotiate.
Rafe grabbed a duffel bag from beneath the console—filled with weapons, emergency IDs, burner phones.
“We need to leave now.”
Valeria nodded numbly, slipping a USB copy of the files into her coat pocket.
But as they reached the stairwell again—
Gunfire cracked.
Rafe pulled her down.
Reyes’ voice echoed down the hall.
“Drop it, Val. Or I drop him.”
They looked up.
She was holding a gun to Rafe’s temple.
And she was wearing a badge Valeria had never seen before.
Not police.
Not state.
But Crane Division.
---
Valeria slowly raised her hands.
And Reyes smirked.
> “You were never meant to be a hero, Vale.”
“Then what was I meant to be?”
“A switch.”
“For what?”
Reyes leaned in.
“For the end of the world.”
Then she pulled the trigger.
- Writer
