The night pressed close around the riverbank safehouse.
A storm brewed over Prague — thunder low and heavy, lightning flickering across the skyline like the heartbeat of something ancient and watching. Inside, Amira sat at a small wooden table, the glow of Leonardo's laptop painting her face in shades of blue and gold.
He was typing, every keystroke sharp, rhythmic. The blood pact symbol on his wrist had been scanned into the system, now rendering layers of encrypted files that twisted across the screen like veins of light.
Amira watched silently, her pulse drumming in her ears. "You're sure this will work?"
Leonardo didn't look up. "It has to. The Covenant's network is built on biometric encryption. Every member's DNA, blood type, and neural pattern feed into the main algorithm. My code gives us partial access."
"And the rest?"
He hesitated. "The rest we'll have to take from the others."
Amira leaned back, her eyes narrowing. "You mean we have to hunt them."
He nodded. "One by one."
Outside, rain began to fall — steady, relentless.
Amira whispered, "Then let's start with the one who betrayed you."
Leonardo's fingers froze on the keyboard. "Who told you that?"
She met his gaze. "You didn't have to. It's written all over your face."
The file finally decrypted with a chime. A single document blinked open: THE SEVEN.
Amira leaned in. Seven names appeared on the screen, each tied to aliases, hidden companies, offshore accounts.
But her breath caught when she read the fourth name.
Dr. Celeste Morano.
Her mentor. The woman who'd once saved her from drowning in grief — and who had introduced her to Victor Lang in the first place.
Amira's voice broke. "No… no, this can't be right."
Leonardo's eyes hardened. "She's the Covenant's strategist. The voice behind half of Victor's operations. She trained you for him."
Amira pushed back from the table, pacing. "She was family to me. After my parents died, she—she gave me purpose."
"She gave Lang access to you," Leonardo said quietly. "You were a weapon he wanted to control."
Amira turned, tears burning her eyes. "And you knew?"
He hesitated — and that silence was answer enough.
She laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Of course you did. You always knew how to keep secrets."
"Amira—"
"Don't." Her voice cracked like thunder. "You died once. Don't make me bury the truth with you again."
Hours later, Amira stood by the window, watching the rain turn to mist over the river. Sleep had long abandoned her. Behind her, Leonardo worked silently, his face drawn with guilt and exhaustion.
"Celeste is in Vienna," he said finally. "Head of a biotech front. If we move fast, we can reach her before the Covenant realizes the breach."
Amira didn't turn. "And then what? You kill her?"
"She won't talk if we ask nicely."
Amira's reflection stared back from the glass — pale, cold, but burning inside. "Then I'll do it."
Leonardo stood, crossing the room. "You don't have to—"
She turned sharply. "Don't tell me what I have to do, Leonardo. She used me. Lied to me. Fed me into Lang's hands like a sacrifice."
His eyes softened, but there was no comfort in them. "Then we end it your way."
Vienna – Two days later
The gala at the Mirabell Estate glittered like sin disguised as elegance.
Golden chandeliers reflected off crystal glasses and the hum of a string quartet floated through the air. The world's elite mingled — politicians, tech giants, diplomats — all oblivious that they were standing atop a viper's nest.
Amira entered in a silver gown that shimmered with every step. Her mask, lined with black lace, hid her expression but not her fury. At her side, Leonardo looked every bit the fallen CEO reborn — tuxedo sharp, smile dangerous.
To anyone watching, they were just another power couple lost in the world's most expensive lie.
Celeste Morano stood near the balcony, radiant and unreadable in white silk, a glass of champagne in hand. Her hair was streaked with gray now, but her poise was untouched — the kind that made people trust her before they should.
Leonardo whispered, "She doesn't know we're here."
Amira's voice was steel. "Then let's surprise her."
They approached. Celeste turned — and for the first time in years, Amira saw the flicker of shock in her mentor's calm eyes.
"Amira," Celeste breathed. "My dear, I thought—"
"—I was dead?" Amira finished softly. "Seems that's going around."
Celeste recovered quickly, setting her glass down. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you," Amira said, stepping closer. "Unless betrayal pays better than loyalty these days."
Celeste sighed, glancing at Leonardo. "So he told you."
Amira's eyes glinted. "He didn't have to. The files spoke louder than his silence."
Celeste's tone cooled. "And what do you hope to gain, Amira? Revenge? Justice? The Covenant built the world you live in. Tear it down, and the world burns with it."
"Then let it burn," Amira said, voice trembling with contained rage. "I'll light the match myself."
Leonardo's earpiece buzzed faintly. "Amira," Daniel's voice came through, "we've got company. Armed men moving in from the east corridor."
Celeste's lips curved faintly. "You think I didn't know you'd come? The Covenant watches its own."
Before Amira could react, Celeste pressed a button on her bracelet — and the ballroom doors sealed shut.
Gunfire erupted from the balconies.
Leonardo grabbed Amira, pulling her behind a marble pillar as guests screamed and scattered. Glass shattered, chandeliers crashed, and in seconds, the gala became a warzone.
Leonardo returned fire, taking down two men, but more poured in. Amira ducked low, grabbed a fallen guard's weapon, and fired back with deadly precision. Her silver gown was streaked with blood and smoke, but her focus was unshakable.
Celeste retreated up the staircase, her white dress glowing like a ghost in the chaos. Amira sprinted after her, ignoring Leonardo's shout.
She caught up on the balcony, cornering her mentor near a grand piano.
Celeste turned slowly, unarmed. "So this is how it ends?"
Amira raised the gun, hands shaking. "You took everything from me."
Celeste smiled faintly. "No, my dear. I gave you purpose. You were meant to carry the torch, not fight it."
"Then I'll burn the torch out," Amira whispered, finger tightening on the trigger.
"Do it," Celeste said calmly. "But understand this — the Covenant doesn't die with me. It grows. It has already replaced Victor. It will soon replace me. And maybe… one day, it will replace you."
Amira froze.
Celeste stepped closer. "They've been watching you, Amira. Every move, every heartbeat. You think you escaped the game? You're just another player in it."
A single shot cracked through the air.
Celeste staggered back, a red bloom spreading across her chest. Amira's eyes widened — but she hadn't fired.
She turned sharply.
Leonardo stood at the doorway, gun still smoking. His face was unreadable.
"Why?" Amira cried.
He lowered the weapon. "Because she wasn't going to let you walk away."
Celeste fell to her knees, blood staining the marble. Her final breath left with a whisper — one word that chilled Amira to her bones:
"…Serpent."
Later that night, they escaped the estate through the catacombs beneath Vienna.
The sound of dripping water echoed in the dark, mingling with Amira's ragged breathing. She stopped, slamming her hands against the wall. "You shouldn't have killed her!"
Leonardo turned, eyes shadowed. "She had a kill order for you, Amira. I read the files."
"She could've talked! She could've—"
"She wouldn't!" he roared, the sound raw enough to silence her. "You don't know what these people are capable of."
Her voice trembled. "And you do?"
He stared at her for a long moment. "Yes."
That silence between them stretched, sharp and cold.
Finally, Amira whispered, "The word she said. 'Serpent.' What did she mean?"
Leonardo hesitated, then turned back toward the darkness. "It's not a word," he said quietly. "It's a codename. The leader of the Covenant. No one knows who they really are."
Amira's stomach knotted. "But you do, don't you?"
He didn't answer.
Somewhere in Zurich
A woman sat in front of a wall of monitors, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. The screens played surveillance footage — the Vienna gala, the shootout, Amira's defiance, Leonardo's shot.
The woman smiled — slow, deliberate.
"Always predictable," she murmured. "The widow and her ghost."
A man approached, bowing slightly. "Shall we proceed, Madam Serpent?"
She stood, her voice soft as silk but sharp as a blade. "No. Let them think they've won. I want to see how far love can blind a woman before it kills her."
The monitors flickered, showing Amira and Leonardo on a dark road, driving toward the unknown.
"Prepare the next phase," the Serpent said. "Activate the Blood Network."