Elias Thorne's breath was cold and slow.
The walls of his estate seemed to lean in, the silence like a jury waiting to convict. The fabricated video still looped on-screen a damning illusion crafted by someone who knew the art of war wasn't waged with guns anymore, but with perception.
He stood there, unmoving, the weight of it pressing against his chest.
"Who has that kind of editing skill?" Magritte asked, breaking the silence.
"Only one name comes to mind," Elias said. "Finnian Creed."
"Creed?" she blinked. "The cyber mercenary?"
"Yes. Disavowed by half the world's governments. Loyal to the highest bidder."
She clenched her jaw. "Which means Maxwell Grant and Celeste Rain have escalated this. It's no longer sabotage it's character assassination."
Elias walked to the fireplace, the embers still warm. He tossed his phone into the flame and watched it melt.
"They'll expect me to panic," he said. "So I'll give them control. Just for a moment."
Magritte tilted her head. "That's not your style."
"It is now," he muttered.
The Next Morning: International Economic Tribunal Office, Jude paced outside the glass-paneled room where Elias was to be reviewed in an emergency ethics hearing. The tribunal had expedited the process too fast. Someone had pulled strings.
Valerie Dexter stood beside Jude, sipping bitter black coffee. "He's buying time, you know."
Jude frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Elias. He walked into this hearing knowing he couldn't win. That means he's not here to win. He's here to watch the opposition move."
Inside, Elias stood at the center of the room. Screens showed stills from the fabricated footage, broken into frames.
A councilman with a shaved head asked, "Mr. Thorne, do you admit to transferring funds to Anton Veck?"
"No," Elias replied evenly. "Because it never happened."
"And you have evidence of this?"
"I don't need evidence to prove I didn't commit a crime. You need evidence to prove I did."
The room murmured.
Another councilwoman, sharp-eyed, snapped, "Then why do ten of our forensic analysts say the footage is authentic?"
"Because they were either misled… or bought."
Gasps. A pause.
"Are you suggesting this tribunal is corrupt?"
"I'm suggesting that if you want to crucify me, at least don't insult me with a forged hammer."
Meanwhile, A Diner in Old Town, Lewis sat across from a jittery man in a military jacket. Old scars crossed the man's neck.
"You owe me, Mason," Lewis said calmly.
"I gave up hacking years ago"
"You didn't. You just got better at hiding."
The man sighed. "What do you need?"
"A teardown of the Creed video. I want proof that it's fake. And I want it yesterday."
"That's suicide."
Lewis leaned forward, eyes cold. "No, Mason. Suicide is *not* doing it, and watching a good man get buried."
Back at the Estate, Magritte sat in Elias' office, tapping through encrypted files. She was searching for anomalies in communications, backdoor logins anything.
Then she found it.
A remote access breach from an off-shore server pinged two days before the leak. It had gone unnoticed in Draxon's cybersecurity logs. She traced it, line by line, until
"Celeste Rain," she whispered.
Then a message popped up on her screen.
I see you, Magritte. Her heart stopped.
Stop digging. Or I'll bury you with him.
Later That Evening: Elias Returns.The hearing had ended inconclusively. No ruling. No relief.
He walked into the estate, jaw tight. Valerie was the first to greet him.
"I watched the footage again," she said. "They used AI voice sync, facial deepfake tech, and blurred timestamps. It's art, Elias. Evil art."
"Lewis is working on a counter," Elias replied. "He won't stop."
"And Magritte?" Valerie asked, her voice dropping slightly.
"She's the only one who can outthink Celeste."
Valerie looked down. "You love her, don't you?"
Elias met her eyes. "I think… I'm starting to."
Valerie nodded slowly. "Then don't let her be your weakness."
At an Underground Auction House,Maxwell Grant stood in front of a crowd of elites, unveiling the next weapon in his arsenal a software virus capable of crippling entire stock markets.
"We call it Phantom Ledger," he announced. "And tomorrow morning, we will plant it inside Draxon's financial branch."
Applause.
Celeste Rain stood in the back, silent.
"You doubt me?" Maxwell asked her later.
"I don't doubt your power," she said. "I doubt your restraint."
Maxwell smiled. "There's no room for restraint in warfare."
Back at the Estate: Midnight Elias sat alone in his study when Magritte entered, holding a flash drive.
"I have it," she said.
"What is it?"
"Proof the leak came from Celeste. And… a backdoor into the communications mainframe at Duchess Corp. If we use it, we'll see everything."
Elias took it, but didn't move. "You shouldn't be here."
"Why?"
"Because they know. Celeste messaged you, didn't she?"
Magritte's silence was the answer.
Elias looked at her with a weight in his eyes. "This fight isn't going to end in courtrooms. It'll end in fire."
She stepped forward and kissed him deep, deliberate. "Then we burn together."
He held her against him, forehead to hers.
"We rise," he whispered.