[127 Days Left to Live]
It had been seven long days since Kendrick walked out of Cassius’ office, jaw clenched and fists tight, his mind spinning with unanswered questions. Seven days of frustration, of sleepless nights, of digging deeper into a pit that seemed to swallow every clue whole.
And now, he was staring at an empty folder on his screen. Again.
"Damn it!" he growled, slamming his fist on the table. His coffee mug trembled and tilted dangerously before he caught it just in time. He sighed, pressing his palm over his eyes.
Gone. Everything about Barmon. Gone.
Not a single shred left. No photos, no records, not even an old address. As if Barmon never existed. As if he was a ghost made of smoke, erased with precision.
Kendrick had worked tirelessly to retrieve the lost files, even attempted deep recovery protocols and used the backdoor Cassius himself once showed him for urgent cases. But it was no use. The data wasn’t just deleted. It was wiped. Scrubbed clean with methods only a few in the world could manage.
Kendrick leaned back on his chair and stared at the ceiling. It felt like being mocked by the universe. He finally found a lead. A real lead. Something that could have connected the dots about his father’s death twelve years ago. And just when he thought he could grasp it, it slipped through his fingers again.
He ran his hand through his hair, exhaling through clenched teeth.
"Did Cassius not manage to secure the files?" he muttered to himself. "Is that why he refused to talk about it? Because he failed to protect the data?"
The thought lingered heavily in his mind. Cassius always had his way. If he wanted something hidden, it was hidden. If he wanted it revealed, it saw daylight. But this? This kind of erasure felt too extreme, even for him. Unless... unless it wasn’t about failure.
"Or... maybe it’s because Cassius has something to hide," Kendrick whispered to himself, brows furrowing. "Maybe Barmon knew something about him. Something dangerous. Something Cassius didn’t want anyone to uncover."
His heartbeat quickened.
"Could he have erased everything to cover it up? Does he even have that kind of reach?"
The more Kendrick thought about it, the less it made sense. Or maybe it made too much sense. And that was the problem.
Only one group came to mind. A group powerful enough to erase someone’s existence down to the digital footprints. The Archive.
More specifically, The Erasers.
They were like myths. A secret faction inside The Archive who specialized in removing people from history as if they never existed. It wasn’t just deletion. It was annihilation of identity.
His chest tightened.
"Is Cassius tied to The Archive?" Kendrick thought, narrowing his eyes. "That would explain how he knows about me. About Obscura. About what happened back then. Even about my investigation."
Then a darker thought crawled in.
"Or maybe The Archive has been watching me. Watching everything. And when they saw me getting close to something I wasn’t supposed to know... they made a move."
His stomach churned.
"Everything connected to it. Gone. Every time I get close. Every single damn time."
He sat in the silence of the high-tech room, eyes fixed on the black monitor screen. The reflection of his tired face stared back at him. His thoughts were spiraling again, a dangerous road he was too used to walking. But this time, it felt worse. More personal. The pressure of not knowing was closing in like a storm cloud ready to burst.
A sudden knock broke the silence.
Kendrick flinched.
He wasn’t expecting anyone. No calls. No messages. Nothing.
He glanced at the door, his heart steadying as his instincts kicked in. Quietly, he stood up and approached the door with measured steps. He peered through the peephole.
No one.
But then another knock. Slightly louder this time. Persistent.
He took a breath, unlocked the door, and opened it.
"You’re not exactly easy to catch these days," said a familiar voice.
Sophia.
Cassius’ assistant stood in the hallway, arms crossed, her usual calm expression fixed on her face. Her presence was a surprise, and not entirely a welcome one.
Kendrick blinked. "What are you doing here?"
Sophia stepped in without waiting for an invitation. She glanced around the room as if she were inspecting a crime scene.
"You’re making a mess of yourself. That’s what I’m here for."
Kendrick closed the door and leaned against it. "So Cassius sent you?"
Sophia didn’t answer right away. She pulled out a folder and placed it on his table.
"He told me not to give you anything. But I don’t always follow instructions."
Kendrick raised a brow. "That’s new."
Sophia gave him a thin smile. "You really think Cassius is your enemy now, don’t you?"
He stayed silent, then finally spoke. "I think he’s hiding something."
"He is," she said without blinking. "But not in the way you think."
Kendrick opened the folder. It wasn’t about Barmon. It was more like scientific reports — files, partial logs of activity surrounding one of the dead-end locations he had previously investigated in the old district.
"These are from... the restricted logs," he muttered.
"They’re not full files. Just... breadcrumbs. Don’t ask me how I got them. Let’s just say I have my methods."
He looked at her, a flicker of gratitude in his tired eyes. "Why help me now?"
Sophia gave him a long look, then shrugged slightly. "Because Cassius cares about you more than you think. But he’s also stubborn. You’re the same. Maybe I just don’t want to see the both of you destroy yourselves out of pride."
Kendrick chuckled dryly, flipping through the pages. "You talk like a big sister."
"Please. Don’t make me throw this mug at you," she replied, pointing to the half-empty cup on his desk.
He grinned despite himself.
Sophia headed for the door. "Don’t dig too hard. You might not like what you find."
Kendrick glanced down at the folder again. "At this point, I just want the truth."
Sophia paused before stepping out. "Sometimes the truth isn’t what brings peace, Kendrick. Sometimes... it brings war."
She walked out, leaving him with more questions than answers. But at least now, he had something. A thread to pull. A direction to run.
He stared at the papers, mind reeling.
The Archive. The Erasers. Cassius. Barmon. His father.
All connected.
And there was no turning back now.