Chapter 77: Nathaniel's Last Protocol

"Archive Release in sixty seconds."

The mechanical announcement echoed through every platform.

For the first time since we arrived at Blackridge, Professor Adrian Falk looked genuinely surprised.

"Impossible," he murmured.

"Nathaniel never had access to this system."

"Looks like he did," Arthur replied with a grin.

His fingers raced across the tablet.

"The signal isn't coming from Raven."

"It's coming from inside the train itself."

"He hid something here," I whispered.

"Not something," Victor corrected.

"Everything."

The black train suddenly came alive.

Interior lights illuminated one carriage after another.

Electronic locks disengaged with sharp metallic clicks.

Every carriage door slid open simultaneously.

Falk struck his cane against the platform.

"Secure the archive!"

"Now!"

His operatives rushed toward the train.

Before they reached it, dozens of steel shutters dropped from the carriage roofs.

The doors sealed again.

Arthur stared at his monitor.

"Nathaniel locked them out."

"He's running his own security system."

"Thirty-eight seconds remaining," the automated voice announced.

"This is insane," Damien muttered.

"Nathaniel's been dead for three years."

"And he's still controlling the battlefield," Margaret replied.

Victor slowly approached Elias.

"Ash."

"Look at me."

Elias turned.

The confusion in his eyes was fading.

Pain remained.

But now there was recognition too.

"Vic..."

The single word broke something inside Victor.

"Yeah."

"It's me."

"I thought..."

"You died."

"I tried finding you."

"Every year."

Elias lowered his rifle completely.

"I remember... a lake."

"A red bicycle."

"Mother singing."

Victor nodded through tears.

"You remember."

"Not everything," Elias admitted.

"Just pieces."

"Nathaniel kept telling me memories always come back."

"He was right."

Professor Falk watched the reunion with cold disappointment.

"Emotions," he sighed.

"Always so inefficient."

He pulled a small remote control from his pocket.

"If I can't recover the archive..."

"Nobody will."

Arthur's eyes widened.

"Explosives!"

"He's trying to destroy the train!"

"Stop him!" Victor shouted.

Damien sprinted forward.

A Raven operative intercepted him.

The two crashed into a stack of wooden crates.

Margaret fired twice.

Both bullets struck rifles from attackers' hands without hitting anyone.

"Twenty seconds," the announcement continued.

Falk calmly pressed the remote.

Nothing happened.

He frowned.

Pressed it again.

Still nothing.

"Looking for this?"

Everyone turned.

Sophia Rowan stood atop the station platform roof.

The detonator rested in her gloved hand.

"You taught us never to trust a single trigger," she said.

"I learned well."

Falk's expression hardened.

"Traitor."

"Survivor," Sophia corrected.

"Nathaniel showed me the difference."

"Ten seconds," the mechanical voice announced.

Arthur suddenly laughed.

"Nathaniel... you unbelievable genius."

"What?" I asked.

"The archive isn't stored on the train."

"Then where is it?"

"The train is the transmitter."

"He's broadcasting everything."

"To who?" Damien shouted.

Arthur looked up from the screen.

"Everyone."

Across the country.

Police databases.

Court servers.

International investigative agencies.

News organisations.

Encrypted journalist networks.

"He's releasing Raven's entire archive," Arthur said.

"Every document."

"Every account."

"Every identity."

"Every crime."

Professor Falk's face lost all colour.

"No..."

"Five seconds."

"Stop the transmission!" he screamed.

His own operatives hesitated.

They knew it was already too late.

"Three..."

"Two..."

"One..."

The station lights flickered.

Every screen inside Blackridge illuminated.

Nathaniel Carter appeared on them.

Calm.

Composed.

Recorded years before.

"If you're watching this," he began,

"Then Raven has already lost."

"Truth survives longer than fear."

"Richard... thank you."

"Sophia... forgive yourself."

"Victor... find your brother."

"Vivian... finish what I started."

He smiled gently.

"And to the man who calls himself the Founder..."

"Check your left pocket."

Professor Falk instinctively reached into his coat.

His expression changed instantly.

Inside was a small silver memory card.

Attached to it was a handwritten note.

Only four words.

"I found you first."