Marseille, France — 7:42 A.M.
"Hold your fire!" Emir shouted, crouched behind a fractured pane of glass.
Too late.
BOOM.
The explosion rocked the greenhouse, sending razor-edged shards through the air. One ripped across La Reyna's left arm, deep enough to draw blood. Crimson dripped onto the moss-stained marble floor.
She didn't scream. She didn't flinch.
She rose—slow, deliberate—as the morning light broke through the shattered roof. The silhouette beyond the wreckage stood framed in that glow. Tall. Lean. Red hair untamed. Rifle hanging loose by her side.
"Thessa."
The name tasted like rust and betrayal. A ghost finally given flesh.
"Eight years," Thessa's voice rang out, calm… almost loving. "I waited for you to open this door."
She took a step forward, glass crunching beneath her boots.
"I didn't die, sweetheart. I was just waiting for you to crawl into the hell your father built."
Twenty minutes earlier.
The black car rolled to a stop at the end of a dirt road. Pebbles crunched under the tires, the Mediterranean wind whipping across the fields.
La Reyna stepped out in silence. The salt air hit her lungs—cold and sharp. Before her stood the greenhouse, leaning into decay. Half-collapsed. Rust curling along the frame like vines. The remaining glass caught the sun like fractured memory.
Wild ivy crept up the sides, fingers of green clutching secrets.
She didn't move.
"This place feels like it's ready to vomit something out," she whispered.
Behind her, Emir scanned the area. Thermal map in hand. 500 meters of silence.
"Clear perimeter," he said. "But it's too quiet. Like someone switched off the world."
Her eyes landed on a symbol carved into the rusted steel door: a half-burned eye locked in a keyhole. El'Raez.
But not original.
"Someone was here," she murmured. "And they wanted us to know."
She placed a hand on the door. The cold steel bit back.
Click.
The lock gave way. The stench inside rolled out like a secret kept too long—mold, dust, and something darker. Something buried.
"Don't touch anything unless I say," she said.
Emir nodded, gun at the ready.
They stepped in. For the first time in years, the Glasshouse welcomed the blood of El'Raez.
Inside, it felt like walking into a tomb where history had refused to stay dead. Dust, rust, vines, and shadows curled around every corner.
The morning light leaked through broken panels, green-tinged and warped—unnatural.
A cracked worktable stood in the center. On it, untouched by dust, lay a black leather journal.
Reyna opened it.
Red ink.
"He'll return. And this time, he won't be the child we spared."
Her fingers trembled. She knew the handwriting.
Thessa.
She closed the book.
"She knew we'd come."
"And she's not alone," Emir said, eyes scanning.
In the far corner, a vault once hidden now stood open. Empty. But on the ground—fresh boot prints. And beside them, a bloodied blade.
Still wet.
She knelt.
Etched on the steel: L.
Not for Lucien. For La Reyna.
Then came the shot.
Glass shattered. A scream from the walls. Her arm tore open. Blood splattered moss.
She didn't cry out.
She stood.
They knew.
They were already here.
Sheltered behind a ruined cabinet, she pried open a rotten crate. Inside: a silver chain. And a letter.
Lucien's handwriting.
Reyna,
If you're reading this, I didn't make the right choice. Between you… and the mission. But I knew you'd come. This place… it's more than a vault. It's our scar.
I trust you, even if I never dared say it.
– L.
Her throat tightened. Her fist clenched around the chain.
He knew. He knew this was the endgame.
"Don't touch the Vault, Reyna."
Thessa's voice cut the silence like a knife.
She emerged through smoke and glass. Pistol raised. Eyes glowing with that old fire.
"You're not ready for what's inside."
Reyna straightened. Her wound bled freely, but her stance never wavered.
"It's not the Vault I fear. Just the people who think they deserve it."
Thessa sneered.
"Your father was a liar. You worship a man who sold truth for power."
"He never sold his friends to hell."
A shot rang out.
BOOM.
Back glass exploded.
"Two more! Behind the house! Armed!" Emir shouted from outside.
The letter slipped from Reyna's fingers.
Thessa advanced.
"Whatever you're looking for," she said coldly, "it doesn't belong to you. And I swear… you won't leave Marseille alive."
The Glasshouse was no longer a secret.
It was a war zone.
And the blood on the floor… was just the beginning.