The hum of the city had vanished. Only the echo of dripping water filled the tunnels below Northvale.

Frank Miller sat under a cracked support beam, soldering wires onto a small receiver. Around him, the old metro station looked like a corpse — broken tracks, torn cables, dust so thick it muted every footstep. A single bulb flickered above, painting the room in nervous light.

Zoey stood near the stairwell, scanning her tablet. "Nothing from Ricky," she said, her voice low, tired. "All frequencies are dead."

Frank didn't look up. "They're not dead," he replied. "They're erased."

She frowned. "What do you mean erased?"

Frank slid the receiver toward her. "Check the national registry."

Zoey tapped quickly. Her face paled. "You've got to be kidding me."

On the cracked screen, two names flashed red across the government database:FRANK MILLER — DECEASED.ZOEY PARKER — DECEASED.

Frank lit a cigarette, the flame briefly reflecting in his eyes. "Congratulations," he said quietly. "We're ghosts."

1. The Briefing That Never Happened

They had taken shelter in what used to be a metro control office — now a bunker filled with old monitors and improvised equipment. The air smelled of rust and static.

Zoey leaned against the wall, rubbing her temples. "So what now, Ghost Miller?"

Frank didn't smile. He was staring at a map projected across the cracked tiles — the web of Vertex facilities, red lines connecting one name again and again. Cole.

"Now," Frank said, "we stop being the hunted."

He brought up a file on the Vertex data chip — encrypted videos marked Defense Authority — Private Access.

Zoey crossed her arms. "That's military clearance. If we decrypt that—"

Frank cut her off. "Then we find the man who thinks he owns us."

2. General Harrison Cole

Static filled the old projector, then a man's voice echoed through the tunnel.

General Harrison Cole appeared on screen — sharp uniform, silver hair, the calm authority of someone who'd never dirtied his hands.

"Project Red Coat is not an experiment," Cole said, pacing in front of a group of scientists. "It's evolution. We rebuild soldiers not for life, but for loyalty. Obedience can be coded. Regret can be erased."

Zoey felt her stomach twist. "This isn't about surveillance," she whispered. "This is about control."

Frank's eyes stayed locked on the projection. "They didn't bring me back to save me. They brought me back to use me."

Another voice on the recording — Dr. Kessel again.

"Sir, what if emotional memory causes conflict? Some subjects retain fragments of conscience."

Cole turned toward the camera, expression sharp.

"Then we remind them they belong to us."

The video cut off.

Zoey whispered, "He turned people into machines."

Frank crushed his cigarette into the dirt. "Not people. Weapons."

He stepped closer to the console, decrypting the next file. Coordinates appeared — a heavily guarded compound on the outskirts of the city labeled THE CITADEL.

Zoey leaned forward. "That's Cole's private facility."

Frank nodded slowly. "Then that's where this ends."

3. The Trap Inside the Message

Hours passed. The rain outside turned into a low, steady roar against the city's surface. Frank worked quietly, decoding Cole's internal logs, when Zoey's commlink buzzed.

She frowned. "Frank… I'm getting something. An encrypted voice message."

Frank looked up sharply. "From who?"

"Unknown origin," she said, tapping to play it. The voice came through broken and distant — but unmistakable.

"Frank. Don't go to The Citadel. It's not what you think."

Zoey's eyes widened. "That's—"

"Evelyn," Frank said, finishing her sentence.

The message continued, fragmented by static.

"It's a trap. You were never meant to survive the rebirth. The Citadel is—"The feed cut off.

Zoey swallowed hard. "She's warning you. Maybe she's trying to help."

"Or maybe she's finishing what she started," Frank said.

He leaned over Zoey's tablet, analyzing the waveform. "This code… it's an old cipher. One only she and I used during ops in Velmara."

Zoey raised a brow. "You're sure?"

He gave a faint smirk. "I'm sure."

She crossed her arms. "You're walking straight into a setup."

"I know," Frank replied. "That's why I'll walk in first."

4. The Safehouse Breach

The words had barely left his mouth when the receiver on the table began to hiss — a sharp, high-pitched pulse that made both of them freeze.

Zoey turned to him. "That's a locator frequency."

Frank's expression darkened. "We've been pinged."

Before she could answer, the tunnel ceiling erupted. Dust and concrete rained down. Three spherical drones dropped through the smoke, red optics blinking like eyes.

"Down!" Frank shouted.

The first drone fired. The console exploded in a spray of sparks. Frank dove behind a metal crate, returning fire in tight, precise bursts. Zoey rolled behind the old terminal, pulling a compact EMP device from her belt.

"Cover me!" she yelled.

Frank leaned out, took down one drone with two controlled shots, and drew their fire. "Now, Zoey!"

She threw the EMP. A pulse rippled through the room — blue arcs crawling across metal. The drones sparked, convulsed, then collapsed.

Frank rose from cover, scanning the smoke. "That was no random hit."

Zoey coughed. "You think Cole sent them?"

He walked toward one of the downed drones, kneeling beside it. "No," he said quietly, opening its control port. "Evelyn did."

Inside, the command origin flashed in digital text:Source: CITADEL / Level 3 / Handler ID – E. CROSS.

Zoey whispered, "She's working for him."

Frank pocketed the data chip. "Or pretending to. Either way, we just got our invite."

5. The Fracture in Trust

They escaped through a maintenance tunnel that wound through the city's underground grid. When they finally emerged, they found themselves inside a long-abandoned church — stained glass cracked, pews covered in dust.

Frank dragged an old bench toward the window, sitting in silence as the rain outside turned to mist. Zoey leaned against a pillar, staring at the faint blue glow under her wrist from the commlink.

After a moment, Frank broke the quiet. "You left the signal open."

Zoey blinked. "What?"

"That's how they found us," he said, not looking at her. "You routed your decryptor through the city network. It lit us up like a beacon."

She stepped closer. "You think I did that on purpose?"

Frank met her eyes. "I think old habits die slow."

Her tone turned sharp. "You don't trust me. After everything—"

"I trust your aim," he interrupted flatly. "Not your choices."

She clenched her jaw. "You really think I'd betray you again?"

Frank's voice stayed cold. "I think betrayal comes in different forms. Some quieter than others."

Silence hung between them, heavy and suffocating. Then Zoey finally said, "I'm still here, Frank. If I wanted out, I'd have left when the bullets started."

Frank looked away, the edge in his voice softening. "Yeah. I know."

The words carried more weight than an apology. For the first time in days, they both exhaled at the same time.

After a long pause, Frank spoke again. "Tomorrow, we end this."

Zoey nodded slowly. "Together?"

"Together," he said. But his eyes didn't quite agree.

6. The Cliffhanger

Night fell fast. The city outside hummed with distant thunder. Inside the church, the faint light of a dying candle flickered across Frank's face as he sat cleaning his weapon — methodical, focused.

Zoey sat across from him, patching a cut on her arm, her reflection shimmering faintly in the cracked glass of the altar.

Frank broke the silence. "When we reach The Citadel, we stick to the plan. No improvising."

Zoey smirked lightly. "Since when do you make plans?"

"Since improvising started getting people killed," he said, eyes steady.

She sighed. "And what happens when we find Cole?"

Frank didn't answer immediately. He slid the magazine into his pistol and set it down. "Then I find out why I'm still breathing."

Zoey looked at him for a moment — something unreadable in her eyes. "You really think Evelyn's working for him?"

Frank shrugged. "Doesn't matter. If she's there, I'll get the truth."

The candle flickered out, plunging them into near darkness.

Then Frank's comm device buzzed.

He glanced down. The signal was weak, heavy with static — but the voice that came through was unmistakable.

"Miller… it's Ricky."

Frank froze. "Colonel?"

"Listen carefully… Cole isn't your only enemy. One of you is still wired to him."

The line went dead.

Frank turned slowly toward Zoey. She stood frozen, confused. "What? What did he say?"

He didn't answer. His gaze dropped to her wrist — the faint blue light pulsing beneath her skin, rhythmic and steady.

Zoey followed his stare. "Frank… what is it?"

He stepped closer, voice low. "You tell me."

The pulse under her skin brightened — like something waking up.

Zoey's expression turned from confusion to fear. "I swear I didn't—"

But Frank had already drawn his gun. "Then prove it."

Thunder cracked outside, shaking the old church.

The candlelight flared again for an instant, catching the glint of metal in both their eyes — his weapon steady, her hands trembling.

Outside, lightning split the sky.

And somewhere far above the storm, in the heart of The Citadel, a man watched two red dots appear on a holographic map.

General Harrison Cole smiled faintly.

"Protocol confirmed," he said. "Ghosts always return to their masters."

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