Chapter 279: New Threats [Edited]

The heavy tires of the unmarked transport jet screeched against the wet tarmac of the private Grayland airfield.

A cold drizzle fell over the city, a sharp contrast to the heat of the Sahara. As the aircraft taxied toward a secluded hangar away from the commercial terminals, the turbofan engines gradually wound down to a low hum.

The rear hydraulic ramp lowered with a hiss, letting cool, damp air into the cabin.

Waiting on the asphalt beneath large black umbrellas were Eric and Dana. Four high-level Association security escorts stood nearby, their raincoats glistening under the hangar lights.

Eric looked like he hadn’t slept since the strike team had left. Heavy stubble covered his jaw, and his trench coat hung loosely over his broad frame, but he straightened as soon as he saw the team coming down the ramp. Dana stood beside him, holding a reinforced, lead-lined transport lockbox under one arm, her face filled with relief.

"You’re back in one piece," Eric said, his gravelly voice cutting through the rain. His eyes moved over the team, taking in their dust-covered clothes, the scorch marks on Vixen’s coat, and Nectron’s exhausted expression. "We received the emergency telemetry from Cairo. You ran into trouble on the airstrip."

"Corporate scavengers tracking Zero’s supply lines," Zero replied flatly, his dark cloak damp from the mist. "They were neutralized. No leaks on our end."

Selena stepped forward and unhooked the pressurized containment case from her chest harness.

"The dreadnought in the Sahara is gone," Selena reported, handing the case directly to Dana. "The automated defense grid caused the bedrock to collapse. The entire basin caved in. But we recovered the primary artifact from the engine room."

Dana immediately placed the containment case inside the reinforced lockbox. She entered a biometric code, and the heavy latches sealed with a sharp pneumatic click.

"Is this the hide with the writing?" Dana asked quietly, looking up with wide, serious eyes.

"Yes," Selena nodded, her expression grim. "It’s an animal parchment containing crude phonetic English written in resin. It outlines seven geographic coordinates across the continents. The power sources that run the dreadnought were scattered across the globe fifty years ago."

Eric let out a slow breath into the cold air, his hands buried in his coat pockets.

"And the alien transmission?" Eric asked, looking toward Nicholas and Zero.

"Confirmed," Nicholas said calmly. "The plague wasn’t an outbreak or a natural mutation. It was cosmic fertilizer, an agricultural catalyst meant to enrich human biomass with Qi so their dominion fleet could harvest high-yield energy. The alien harvester, Ikar, went rogue, crashed his own ship, and hid the planet behind a cosmic camouflage."

"A camouflage that’s burning away every time someone awakens," Vixen added, crossing her arms against the chill. "The more abilities humanity unlocks to protect itself, the brighter we glow in the dark."

The weight of the revelation settled over them on the wet runway. For a moment, nobody spoke. The distant hum of Grayland’s traffic seemed small against the threat waiting in the stars.

"We’ll take this artifact directly to the subterranean research labs beneath the central branch," Eric said, his voice firm. "Dana and the deciphering teams will work around the clock to map every coordinate on that hide before the corporate syndicates or independent factions realize what we’re looking for."

Eric looked at the battered team, his expression softening slightly.

"You did good. Better than good," Eric said. "Get some rest. Clean the sand out of your gear. The situation with the clone in Chicago is escalating fast, and we’re going to need every one of you ready when the hammer falls."

At the top of the ramp, Julie finally stumbled down into the rain, dragging her bruised rolling suitcase behind her. Her pink hair was plastered to her forehead, and her oversized camera rig was wrapped in three separate waterproof plastic bags.

"Supervisor Dana!" Julie wailed, practically throwing herself toward the lockbox. "Please tell me the Association cafeteria is still serving late-night curry! I have lived on dry protein bricks for forty-eight hours, and my stomach is actively attempting to digest my own ribs!"

"The cafeteria is open, Julie," Dana said with a small, fond chuckle, shaking her head. "Go get something to eat."

"Praise the administrative gods," Julie breathed, dragging her bag toward the waiting transport van while checking the cloud upload status on her phone.

Nicholas didn’t linger for the debrief. He slung his light canvas duffel bag over one shoulder, gave Eric and Selena a brief nod, and walked toward the private car waiting to take him back into the city.

The streets of Grayland were slick with rain as the car pulled up outside Nicholas’s apartment building.

The neighborhood was quiet at two in the morning, with streetlights reflecting across the wet asphalt.

Nicholas stepped out of the vehicle and looked up at the brick facade.

He noticed the movement in the shadows immediately. Across the street, a plain dark sedan sat near the corner, its driver watching the building. In the alley between two apartment blocks, a lone figure in a dark raincoat stood beneath an awning, pretending to check a phone while keeping a clear view of the entrance.

The security arrangements Selena had put in place were still working. The undercover guards were alert and well positioned.

Nicholas walked into the lobby, climbed the stairs, and stopped in front of his apartment door. He unlocked the deadbolt with his key and pushed the heavy wooden door open.

The warmth of the apartment greeted him.

The interior was dimly lit by a single warm lamp in the corner of the living room. On the small kitchen table sat a covered ceramic plate, keeping a hot meal fresh, alongside a thermos of warm tea.

From the hallway leading to the bedrooms came a pair of light, cautious footsteps.

Marina stepped into the living room wearing a soft woolen sweater and pajama bottoms. She looked tired, but the moment she saw Nicholas standing in the doorway, the tension left her face.

"You’re back," Marina whispered, rushing forward to wrap her arms around him.

Nicholas set his canvas duffel bag down and returned the embrace. The familiar scent of lavender and home helped wash away the lingering smell of ozone and desert sand.

"I’m back," Nicholas said quietly, resting a hand against the back of her head. "How is Katie?"

"She’s fast asleep," Marina said with a gentle smile, pulling back slightly to look at him. She reached up and brushed a small smudge of gray desert dust from his cheek. "She waited up until midnight hoping you’d come home early, but she finally crashed with her sketchbook. She drew you a picture of a superhero catching an airplane."

A rare, faint smile touched the corner of Nicholas’s mouth.

"I’ll look at it in the morning."

"Sit down," Marina urged, gesturing toward the kitchen table. "You must be starving. I made beef stew and steamed rice. It’s still hot."

Nicholas sat at the table, unbuttoning his jacket and draping it over the back of the chair. Marina poured him a cup of hot herbal tea and sat across from him, resting her chin in her hands as she watched him eat.

The simple, comforting meal reminded him of what he was actually fighting for.

As he ate in the quiet of the apartment, Nicholas looked through the rain-streaked window at the distant skyline of Grayland.

His mind began putting the pieces together.

On one front was the clone—Specimen B. The duplicate was tearing through the Midwest, leaving crushed heroes and damaged power plants behind him, dragging Phantom’s name through the chaos while local garrisons struggled to contain him.

On the other front was something far larger than any single experiment.

Thousands of light-years away, an ancient extraterrestrial harvest fleet was slowly moving toward Earth’s coordinates. The plague that had changed their world was merely part of a crop cycle, and every awakened hero pushing their Qi further was unknowingly making the beacon brighter and shortening the time they had left.

Seven master power stones scattered across seven continents. An alien harvest fleet approaching from the stars. A violent duplicate moving toward the state line.

Nicholas set his spoon down, his dark blue eyes cold, calm, and focused.

The world was running out of time, and the storm was coming from every direction. But as he looked toward the quiet hallway where Katie was sleeping, Nicholas made a silent, unyielding vow.

He would cut down the clone. He would find the stones. And when the sky finally burned with the arrival of the harvest fleet, he would make sure that whatever came down to reap this world found only its own grave.