Marcus Jefferson's laugh echoed like oil across water—slick, taunting, too smooth to be human. The swirling crimson runes on the floor pulsed faster, reacting to the presence of Chess and Elsa like a predator sensing prey.
"You've grown bold, niece," Marcus said, circling around the flickering seal. "But boldness without power is just noise. I'm here to finish what your grandfather never had the stomach for."
Elsa's jaw clenched. "You mean selling out Jefferson Global to rogue spiritual factions?"
Marcus grinned. "I mean evolving it. The future is not in AI or biotech. It's in spirit-bound architecture. In cities that breathe. Tech that obeys will, not code. But you…" he tsked, "you're still playing dress-up in Grandfather's shadow."
"Then let's cast our own," Elsa snapped.
Before Marcus could retort, Chess moved.
One flick of his wrist—and the energy in the room shifted. The crimson runes on the floor flickered, then cracked like glass under pressure.
Marcus's eyes widened. "Impossible… you shouldn't be able to—"
Chess was already on him.
They collided in the center of the room—spiritual force and bloodline arrogance crashing like thunder. Marcus struck with a palm coated in shimmering glyphs, but Chess dodged, his counter a blur of motion that sent Marcus skidding across the marble floor.
"You're still slow," Chess said coolly. "Or did the forbidden arts rot your spine?"
Marcus rose with a snarl, straightening his suit. "You think brute strength is enough? You don't even know what I've become."
"I don't need to," Chess replied. "I just need to make sure you stop becoming anything further."
Elsa stepped toward the runes, her eyes narrowing as she studied their formation. Lines of spirit-energy ran through them, linking the unconscious bodies to the core. "He's using them as conduits. Chess—these people are feeding his seal."
Chess didn't turn. "Then break it."
She reached into her blazer and pulled out a tiny vial of shimmering dust—the remnants of her last encounter with the seal fragments near Mount Draxen. She poured it over the center glyph. The moment it touched the rune, the crimson glow faltered—then flared violently.
Marcus screamed. "NO!"
The spell backlashed. Arcs of energy lashed out like whips, and the five unconscious bodies gasped back to life, collapsing once more—free from the tether.
Chess took the moment of Marcus' distraction to act.
He surged forward, fist glowing gold—punching Marcus square in the chest.
The seal shattered. The server room went dark.
And Marcus crumpled to his knees, gasping, coughing up black smoke.
Chess stood over him, breathing heavily. "This is the last time you haunt this family."
But Marcus looked up and smiled. "You're already too late."
Then he collapsed—teleportation glyphs flaring under his body, whisking him away in a blink of light.
Gone.
Elsa cursed under her breath. "He had a failsafe."
Chess nodded grimly. "They always do."
—
Later That Night – Daska City Rooftop
The two stood against the rail of a high-rise building overlooking the sleeping city. Below, cleanup crews from The Veil and Elsa's emergency response teams worked to clear the sealed building of any lingering spiritual residue.
Elsa leaned against Chess. "That was too close."
"Yeah," Chess muttered. "But it also confirmed something I feared."
She looked up at him. "What?"
"That your family's dark past is tied deeper to my world than either of us thought." His voice was low. "Marcus used forbidden spirit weaving. He would've learned that from only one place—the Obsidian Valley Sect."
Elsa's eyes widened. "The sect that broke from your own years ago?"
Chess nodded. "The traitors. Exiled for trying to merge spiritual energy with technology. I thought they were crushed. But Marcus must have found them... or they found him."
Elsa was quiet for a long moment.
Then she reached out and took his hand.
"You're not alone in this anymore."
He looked down at her, something soft flickering in his gaze.
"Neither are you."
She smiled, leaning in just enough for their foreheads to meet.
In the chaos, in the fire and blood of their lineage, something real had begun to grow.
—
Elsewhere — Unknown Location
Marcus Jefferson knelt inside a cavern etched with glowing sigils. Hooded figures surrounded him. One stepped forward, voice gravelly.
"You failed."
Marcus raised his head slowly. "I didn't fail. I tested them. And they passed."
The hooded figure paused. "So what now?"
Marcus's eyes gleamed crimson. "Now, we awaken the Sleeping Chamber beneath Valemir."
He rose, smiling with quiet madness.
"The true legacy begins."