Chapter 79: Aster

Nobody spoke after the encrypted message appeared.

"Congratulations on defeating yesterday's enemy."

"Now come find today's."

Arthur stared at the screen.

"The message originated less than ten seconds ago."

"Can you trace it?" Victor asked.

"Already trying."

A loading bar flashed across the display.

Then Arthur sighed.

"Nothing."

"The signal routed itself through Raven's own emergency satellites."

"Whoever Aster is... they're using Raven's infrastructure against us."

Federal investigators flooded Blackridge Station.

Evidence boxes lined the platform.

Dozens of officers escorted former Raven operatives into custody.

Some surrendered quietly.

Others still looked shocked.

Victor stood beside the transport chamber where his father was receiving emergency treatment.

"Will he survive?" he asked the doctor.

"Physically... yes."

"Mentally will take time."

"Years of sedation leave scars."

Victor nodded silently.

Nearby, Elias sat on the station steps.

His rifle had been taken away.

He watched the sunrise without speaking.

Sophia approached him carefully.

"Do you remember me?"

Elias frowned.

"Pieces."

"Nathaniel trusted you."

"Then... I trust you too."

Sophia smiled through tears.

"That's enough for today."

Arthur suddenly called everyone over.

"You need to see this."

He had finished decrypting the silver memory card Nathaniel planted in Falk's pocket.

"It's not financial data."

"It's a video."

Nathaniel appeared once again.

Older.

More tired than before.

"If Adrian Falk is carrying this," he began,

"Then I was right."

"He was never the final enemy."

"He's bait."

"By the time you watch this, Raven will already have been replaced."

"The replacement calls itself Project Aster."

Arthur paused the recording.

"Nathaniel knew."

"Three years ago," I whispered.

"He knew Raven wasn't the end."

"Keep playing," Victor said.

Nathaniel continued.

"Aster doesn't recruit through fear."

"It recruits through admiration."

"Young lawyers."

"Journalists."

"Judges."

"Business leaders."

"People who believe they're changing the world."

"That's what makes it more dangerous than Raven."

"Who leads it?" Damien asked the silent screen.

As if answering him, Nathaniel smiled sadly.

"I never learned the leader's name."

"Only a title."

"The Curator."

"Unlike Falk..."

"The Curator never appears twice."

"Never uses the same voice."

"Never signs a document."

"You'll only know you've met them after they've already disappeared."

The video ended.

Silence followed.

Margaret folded her arms.

"A ghost."

"Exactly," Arthur replied.

"No identity to prosecute."

"No face to recognise."

One of the federal investigators hurried toward us.

"Mr. Hayes?"

"We found something inside Falk's office beneath the station."

"What?" Victor asked.

The investigator handed him a sealed envelope.

Across the front, elegant handwriting read:

"For Vivian Carter."

I carefully opened it.

Inside rested a single sheet of paper.

No signature.

Only one sentence.

"Nathaniel forgave you long before you forgave yourself."

My eyes blurred.

For years I had carried guilt.

Not visiting him often enough.

Not believing him soon enough.

Not seeing the danger until it was too late.

Victor gently placed a hand on my shoulder.

"He wanted you to live."

"Not carry his death forever."

I nodded slowly.

For the first time since Nathaniel's murder...

...the weight became lighter.

Arthur's tablet chimed once more.

"Another message."

"Same sender."

Everyone gathered around.

This time there was no encryption.

Only a photograph.

It showed Verline's flagship showroom.

Taken live.

A woman stood inside examining the original cradle pendant.

Her face remained hidden beneath a wide-brimmed hat.

Beneath the image was one final sentence.

"The Curator has already visited your home."

Before anyone could react, my phone rang.

Rose.

"Vivian!" she cried.

"Someone broke into Verline this morning."

"They didn't steal anything."

"Then what happened?"

Rose's voice trembled.

"They left a white rose on your desk..."

"...and a handwritten invitation asking you to attend Nathaniel Carter's memorial tomorrow."

"The memorial was cancelled three years ago," I whispered.

"Exactly," Rose replied.

"Someone just reopened it."