I limped through the hallway, one hand pressed against the wall for support. Every step sent pain radiating through my body—ribs that were definitely broken, muscles that had been pushed beyond their limits, exhaustion that went bone-deep.

Without my System, I felt naked. Vulnerable in a way I hadn't experienced in such a long time. No Superior Endurance to push through the pain. No Advanced Trauma Care to tell me which injuries were critical. Just raw, unfiltered suffering that threatened to drag me down with every movement.

The building was chaos. Alarms still blaring. Smoke from the raid drifting through corridors. The sounds of combat from the lower floors—Samuel's forces still fighting Hugo's security contractors.

I passed bodies. Some in security uniforms. Some in Ghanaian military gear. The raid had been costly.

But I couldn't think about that. Could only focus on moving forward. One step. Then another. Then another.

When walking became impossible, I crawled. Dragged myself across tile floors, leaving smears of blood—Anthony's blood, my blood, Hugo's blood—in my wake.

Anthony's face kept flashing in my mind. His last words. That's a request, Boss.

I'd failed him. Brought him into a situation I couldn't protect him from. Let him die because I'd been too weak, too exhausted, too compromised to do anything. I should have expected something like this. I have skills for exactly this type of thing. But was I too focused on the fight to notice Mark? Or was Mark simply that good at hiding himself?

Either way, the tears wouldn't stop. I didn't bother trying to make them.

After what felt like an eternity—could have been ten minutes, could have been an hour—I reached an exit. Emergency door leading to the exterior of the building.

I pushed through it and stumbled into sunlight that felt too bright, too warm, too wrong after what had just happened.

The compound was secured now. Samuel's forces had pushed through. Bodies and damaged vehicles scattered across the grounds. Medical personnel moving between casualties.

I circled around the building, using whatever I could for support. A fence. A wall. Eventually just dragging myself along the ground when my legs gave out completely.

Finally, I saw Samuel. Standing near a command vehicle, coordinating with his officers.

"Samuel!" I tried to yell, but it came out as more of a rasp.

He turned, his eyes widening when he saw me. Started running toward me immediately.

"Reynard! What—" He stopped when he got close enough to see my condition. "My God, what happened in there?"

"Plane," I gasped out. "Need a plane. Get me out of here. Now."

Samuel grabbed my shoulders, his jovial demeanor completely gone. "Reynard, you're in no condition to—"

"NOW!" I screamed, or tried to. My voice broke. "Please, Samuel. I need to go home. Right now."

"What happened?" Samuel demanded. "Where's Anthony? Where's the World President?"

"Dead," I said, the word tasting like ash. "Both dead. Anthony's dead. Hugo's dead. The World President is dead. And I need to get the fuck out of Ghana before—"

I couldn't finish. Couldn't explain Mark. Couldn't process what had happened.

Samuel's expression shifted—shock, confusion, but also immediate action. He pulled out his radio, speaking rapidly.

"This is Osei. I need immediate evacuation for Reynard Vale. Priority alpha. Private airfield. Now."

He turned to two nearby soldiers. "Help him. Get him to the vehicle. Carefully."

They moved quickly, each taking one of my arms and draping them over their shoulders. Supporting my weight as they half-carried me toward a waiting military vehicle.

"I'm not injured," I said, though the statement was obviously a lie given the blood covering me. "I just need to go home."

The soldiers nodded professionally, not commenting on the contradiction. They loaded me into the vehicle with practiced efficiency.

Samuel climbed in beside me. "We'll get you home, Reynard. But you need to tell me what happened. If the World President is really dead—"

"Later," I said, closing my eyes. "I'll explain later. Right now I just need to get home. Please."

Samuel studied me for a long moment, then nodded. "Alright. Home first. Explanations later."

The vehicle drove quickly through Accra's streets, eventually reaching a private airfield on the outskirts of the city. A plane was already being prepped—small but fast, designed for quick departures.

Samuel helped me onto the plane personally. "You're sure you're alright to fly?"

"I'm sure," I lied.

"Reynard," Samuel said seriously. "The World President. You're certain they're dead?"

"I watched him die," I said. "Hugo Vale. My father. He was the World President. And now he's dead."

Samuel's eyes widened in shock, but before he could respond, I continued.

"Anthony died too. My bodyguard. My friend. He died after we beat Hugo, someone ambushed us when we were weak."

"I'm sorry," Samuel said quietly. "Truly sorry."

"Thank you," I said. "For everything. For the hospitality. For the support. For getting me out of here."

"Of course," Samuel replied. "You're an ally. A friend. We'll talk more when you're recovered. When you're ready."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak anymore.

The plane took off shortly after, climbing into clear skies above Ghana.

The flight was long. Nine hours back to Canada. Nine hours of sitting in uncomfortable seats with a body that screamed for medical attention and a mind that kept replaying Anthony's death, Hugo's revelations, Mark's betrayal.

I spent most of it asleep. The exhaustion from using Camille's Job Maxer title was beyond anything I'd experienced. No wonder she tended to sleep so much—though she'd always been like that even before getting the title. Some things were just personality.

When I woke, we were already descending. The pilot announced our approach to the Canadian airfield.

I checked my internal clock. Still around two and a half more hours before my System would reactivate. Still two and a half more hours of being vulnerable, weak, normal.

The plane landed smoothly. The soldiers who'd accompanied me—Samuel's men, ensuring I got home safely—helped me off.

"We've contacted someone to pick you up," one said. "A Maurice? Your driver?"

I didn't even question how they'd gotten his contact information. Samuel was thorough. Always had been.

Maurice arrived within minutes, his professional demeanor cracking slightly when he saw my condition.

"Mr. Vale," he said, concern clear in his voice. "Sir, should I take you to a hospital?"

"Home," I said firmly. "Just take me home, Maurice."

He nodded, helping me into the car with gentle care. The drive through the city felt surreal—normal people going about normal lives, completely unaware that the World President had died halfway across the world. Though the faces of some people became more and more shocked when looking at their phone. Some crazy news about a celebrity most likely.

When we reached the penthouse, Maurice helped me to the elevator. Offered to come up with me.

"I'm fine," I said. "Thank you, Maurice. Really."

He looked doubtful but nodded. "Call if you need anything, sir."

The elevator ride up felt endless. I leaned against the wall, watching the numbers climb. Each floor bringing me closer to home. To safety. To people who cared whether I lived or died.

The doors opened to our floor. I limped down the hallway, each step an exercise in willpower.

I reached the door. Pulled out my keys with shaking hands. Managed to get the key in the lock.

The door opened, and suddenly they were there.

All four of them. Camille, Sienna, Alexis, Evelyn.

They rushed toward me, voices overlapping in concern and panic.

"Rey!"

"Oh my God—"

"You're bleeding—"

"What happened?!"

Hands on me, checking for injuries, supporting my weight before I could collapse. They guided me to the couch, all of them crowding around with fear and worry written across their faces.

"I'm okay," I said weakly. "I'm not injured. Just exhausted. Just need to rest."

"You're covered in blood," Alexis said sharply, her medical instincts overriding everything else. "Where are you hurt?"

"It's not my blood," I said, and my voice broke. "It's… it's Anthony's."

The room went silent.

"Yeah…we are aware…are you ok though?" Sienna asked quietly, her caring nature making her voice gentle despite the obvious fear.

I looked at them—at their concerned faces, at the way they were all touching me like they needed confirmation I was real and alive—and confusion cut through the exhaustion.

"Wait…how do you even know something happened?" I asked. "I just got back. How do you know anything went wrong?"

They exchanged glances. Something significant passing between them.

"Rey," Evelyn said carefully, her gray-blue eyes meeting mine without flinching—still getting used to that, to her being able to look at me directly. "Have you seen the news?"

I blinked. "What? No. I've been on a plane for nine hours. Why would I have seen the news?"

Camille reached for her phone, her wild energy subdued in a way I'd rarely seen. She pulled up something and turned the screen toward me.

"Because," she said quietly, "the entire world saw what happened in Ghana."​​​​​​​​​​​​​

Next chapter will be updated first on this website. Come back and continue reading tomorrow, everyone!

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.