FROM THE AUTHOR:

PLEASE DO NOT READ CHAPTERS 114 TO THE LAST ONE, FOR NOW.

I FELL INSANELY SICK FOR DAYS WAS UNABLE TO WRITE, AND DUE TO FEAR OF MISSING OUT ON DAYS OF MGS, I COULD NOT STOP WITH UPDATES. SO ADMITTEDLY I UPDATED DUMMY CHAPTERS

I KNOW ITS WRONG AND UNETHICAL BUT PLEASE I AM REALLY SORRY. I ONLY JUST RECOVERED NOT LONG AGO AND I AM CURRENTLY FIXING UP THE CHAPTERS AND EVERYTHING WILL BE SORTED BETWEEN THE 17TH to 20TH OF AUGUST, 2025.

I PROMISE THAT WILL NEVER EVER HAPPEN AGAIN ONCE THESE CHAPTERS HAVE ALL BEEN FIXED. PLEASE BEAR WITH ME.

...…

# Chapter 2: Ghosts of the Past

## The Underground Network

Three stories beneath the bustling streets of downtown Chicago, in a series of interconnected tunnels that hadn't appeared on any city planning documents for over fifty years, Dorian Graves sat in what could only be described as a war room. The concrete walls were lined with monitors displaying surveillance feeds from across the country, and the air hummed with the quiet efficiency of high-tech equipment that most government agencies could only dream of acquiring.

His fingers drummed against the metal surface of the table before him, each tap echoing in the confined space as he studied the intelligence reports his network had compiled over the past month. The papers were arranged with military precision, each document stamped with various classification levels that would have raised eyebrows in the highest echelons of power.

"Sir," came a voice from behind him. Marcus Chen, his chief intelligence officer, approached with a tablet in hand and that particular expression that meant he had news—news that would likely complicate an already complex situation.

"What is it, Marcus?" Dorian asked without turning around, his eyes still fixed on a photograph of the USOV headquarters that had been taken earlier that morning.

"We've confirmed Grey's current operational status. The man's been busy since our last encounter—his team has expanded significantly, and they've been conducting operations across multiple states. Ohio was just the latest in a series of what appear to be cleanup missions."

Dorian finally turned in his chair, his pale eyes meeting Marcus's gaze. "Cleanup missions. How diplomatically you put it." There was no humor in his voice, only the cold calculation that had made him both feared and respected in equal measure over the years. "What kind of cleanup are we talking about?"

Marcus swiped across the tablet screen, pulling up a series of incident reports. "Supernatural containment mostly, but there's been at least three instances where they've dealt with what the reports classify as 'rogue enhanced individuals.' The kind of people who would have once found sanctuary with us."

The statement hung in the air between them, heavy with implication. Dorian's network had always operated on the principle that enhanced individuals—those with abilities that set them apart from ordinary humans—deserved protection from a world that would exploit or eliminate them given the chance. Grey's organization, ostensibly, served a similar purpose, but their methods had always been more… institutional.

"Interesting," Dorian murmured, standing and walking to one of the monitors that showed a live feed of the USOV compound. "And what about our mutual friend, Agent Liam? Any updates on his activities?"

"That's where things get complicated," Marcus replied, following him to the bank of screens. "Our sources inside suggest he's been relatively quiet lately, but there was an incident this morning that might interest you."

Dorian raised an eyebrow, the closest thing to curiosity his stoic features would reveal.

"Ayan Dan—you remember her, the Vice President of Dan Industries—apparently had what witnesses described as a rather heated exchange with him outside the USOV facility. She left in what one observer called 'a fit of rage.'"

A slow smile spread across Dorian's face, the first genuine expression of amusement he'd shown in weeks. "Ayan Dan. Now that's a name I haven't heard in some time. The last time our paths crossed, she was merely the ambitious daughter of a tech mogul with questionable ethics and unlimited resources."

"She's grown the company considerably since then," Marcus noted, pulling up a financial profile on his tablet. "Dan Industries now has contracts with over thirty governments worldwide, and their research division has been making significant advances in what they call 'human potential enhancement.'"

"Human potential enhancement," Dorian repeated, his tone suggesting he found the euphemism distasteful. "How wonderfully corporate of them to rebrand what we used to call 'playing God.'"

He moved to another monitor, this one displaying a detailed schematic of the Dan Industries headquarters building. "Tell me, Marcus, what do you think the odds are that Ms. Dan's interest in our powerful Agent Liam is purely social?"

"Given her company's research focus and the timing of her visit? I'd say roughly zero, sir."

Dorian nodded, his mind already working through the implications. "Have we maintained any assets within Dan Industries?"

"A few low-level positions, nothing that would give us access to their classified projects, but enough to keep us informed of general developments."

"Good. I want them activated immediately. If Ayan Dan is making moves involving enhanced individuals, especially ones connected to Grey's organization, I want to know about it before it becomes a problem."

Marcus made a note on his tablet. "Should we consider direct contact with any of the parties involved?"

The question hung in the air for a long moment as Dorian considered their options. Three years ago, the confrontation between his faction and Grey's organization had ended in what could generously be called a stalemate—both sides had retreated to lick their wounds and rebuild their capabilities. But the underlying philosophical differences that had sparked the conflict remained unresolved.

"Not yet," Dorian finally replied. "Let's see how this plays out naturally. Sometimes the best intelligence comes from simply watching people make their own mistakes."

He walked back to the central table, gathering up several of the classified documents. "But prepare contingency plans for multiple scenarios. If this situation escalates, I want us ready to act swiftly and decisively."

"Understood, sir. What about the other matter?"

Dorian paused, knowing exactly what Marcus was referring to. "The Prometheus files?"

"Yes, sir. Our sources suggest that certain parties are getting close to completing their research. If they succeed…"

"If they succeed, the balance of power shifts dramatically, and not in favor of people like us," Dorian finished. "How close are we talking?"

"Six months, maybe less if they manage to acquire the final component they're looking for."

Dorian set the documents down and turned to face the bank of monitors again, his reflection ghostlike in the screens that showed various locations across the country—locations where enhanced individuals