Chapter 144 Forty-Eight Hours
Chapter 144 Forty-Eight Hours
Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Four: Forty-Eight Hours
Nobody spoke.
The message sat on the screen like a countdown clock.
You have forty-eight hours.
After that, finding Evelyn becomes impossible.
The words seemed to drain the air from the room.
For months, we’d been reacting.
Following clues.
Solving mysteries.
Chasing ghosts.
Now, for the first time, we had a deadline.
A real one.
And somehow that made everything feel more dangerous.
Nina was the first to recover.
“What happens in forty-eight hours?”
The terminal remained silent for several seconds.
Then:
Transfer.
A chill swept through the room.
Transfer.
Not death.
Not execution.
Transfer.
The word sounded administrative.
Routine.
Almost harmless.
Which made it worse.
Because people like Alexander Reed never used harmless words for harmful things.
“What kind of transfer?” Gabriel asked.
The answer appeared immediately.
Unknown destination.
A pause.
Known outcome.
Nobody liked that.
Not even slightly.
Clara folded her arms tightly.
“What outcome?”
The terminal waited.
Almost as if it were considering whether to answer.
Then:
Permanent disappearance.
The room fell silent.
Because we all understood what that meant.
A person could survive a disappearance.
But once they vanished completely—records erased, identity removed, history rewritten—they became nearly impossible to find.
A ghost.
A living ghost.
And apparently that was what awaited Evelyn.
Jonathan stared at the screen.
“If you know all this, why don’t you stop it yourself?”
The question hung in the air.
For the first time in several minutes, no answer appeared.
Then finally:
I already tried.
The room froze.
A second line followed.
I failed.
Nobody knew what to do with that.
Because failure wasn’t something we’d associated with Subject Zero.
Everything we’d learned suggested he was always five steps ahead.
Always prepared.
Always in control.
The idea that someone had beaten him felt almost impossible.
Then again, impossible things had become a regular part of our lives.
Dominic stared at the screen.
“Who stopped you?”
The response came slowly.
Someone I underestimated.
The room went silent.
That answer was somehow more frightening than any name could have been.
Because if Subject Zero could underestimate someone, then whoever that person was had to be dangerous.
Very dangerous.
Gabriel looked thoughtful.
Then his expression darkened.
“You don’t mean Sophia.”
The terminal flashed.
No.
A pause.
Sophia follows orders.
There it was again.
Orders.
The mysterious person behind the scenes.
The person directing Sophia.
The person who wanted Evelyn.
The person powerful enough to interfere with Subject Zero himself.
My stomach tightened.
“Who gives the orders?”
The terminal remained blank.
Then:
That is the correct question.
Not an answer.
A confirmation.
Which meant even Subject Zero considered that person the real threat.
Jonathan pulled up the communication logs again.
There had to be something we’d missed.
Some clue.
Some connection.
Some name.
His eyes scanned line after line.
Then suddenly he stopped.
“What?”
Maya asked.
Jonathan pointed at the screen.
“Look.”
The room gathered around him.
A partial communication record had been hidden beneath the others.
Most of it was corrupted.
Unreadable.
But one fragment remained intact.
Just one.
A sender designation.
Not a name.
A title.
The room stared at it.
Nobody spoke.
Because none of us knew what it meant.
The title read:
Custodian.
Silence.
Gabriel frowned.
“That’s not a person’s name.”
“No,” Dominic agreed quietly.
“It’s a role.”
The room looked toward him.
Dominic’s expression had become grim.
“I’ve heard it before.”
Immediately, every eye focused on him.
“You have?” Clara asked.
Dominic nodded.
“Once.”
The vault became very quiet.
Because Dominic rarely admitted uncertainty.
And he looked very uncertain now.
“It was years ago.”
A pause.
“One of Henry’s private meetings.”
Gabriel’s face tightened.
“What about it?”
Dominic stared at the screen.
“Henry received a message.”
The room remained silent.
Then he continued.
“I remember because he looked terrified.”
That got everyone’s attention.
Henry Blackwell terrified?
That wasn’t normal.
That wasn’t even remotely normal.
“What did the message say?” Liam asked.
Dominic swallowed.
Then answered.
“It said the Custodian was watching.”
Nobody moved.
Nobody spoke.
Because if Henry feared this person…
then perhaps we should too.
The terminal flashed.
Henry was correct.
The simple response made my skin crawl.
Gabriel sat back heavily.
“Oh God.”
Nobody laughed.
Not this time.
Then the screen changed.
A new file appeared.
This one wasn’t part of Genesis.
It wasn’t part of the Founder archives.
It wasn’t part of Eleanor’s records.
The file had been uploaded only minutes ago.
The timestamp confirmed it.
Everyone immediately noticed.
“That’s new,” Jonathan whispered.
The terminal responded.
Yes.
A pause.
I received it nineteen minutes ago.
The room froze.
Nineteen minutes ago.
While we were standing here.
While we were talking.
Someone had sent information to Subject Zero.
In real time.
The file opened automatically.
A photograph appeared.
The moment it loaded, my stomach dropped.
Because it showed Evelyn.
Alive.
Recent.
Very recent.
The timestamp indicated it had been taken less than six hours ago.
A wave of relief swept through the room.
At least she was alive.
For now.
Then the relief vanished.
Because Evelyn wasn’t alone.
She sat inside what looked like a private aircraft.
Across from her sat a woman.
A woman everyone recognized instantly.
Sophia Reed.
The room fell silent.
Sophia looked calm.
Comfortable.
Relaxed.
Evelyn did not.
She looked exhausted.
Frightened.
And very much aware that she wasn’t free to leave.
The image felt less like a meeting and more like a transport.
A prisoner being moved.
Then Jonathan zoomed in.
His face immediately changed.
“What?”
Nina demanded.
He pointed toward the reflection in one of the aircraft windows.
A third person.
Barely visible.
Almost hidden.
Standing near the cabin entrance.
Watching.
The reflection was distorted.
Blurry.
Difficult to identify.
But clear enough to reveal one thing.
The person wasn’t Sophia.
And it wasn’t Evelyn.
Someone else was on that plane.
Someone important.
Gabriel stepped closer.
Then suddenly went pale.
Completely pale.
“No.”
The word escaped him immediately.
“What?” Clara asked.
Gabriel didn’t answer.
He simply stared at the reflection.
Like he’d seen a ghost.
Like he’d seen something impossible.
Then he whispered:
“I know him.”
The room froze.
My pulse hammered.
“You know who?”
Gabriel’s eyes never left the image.
The reflection.
The hidden figure.
The ghost standing in the background.
When he finally spoke, his voice sounded almost broken.
“Twenty-two years ago…”
A pause.
“…I helped bury him.”
The silence that followed was absolute.
Then Gabriel delivered the words that shattered whatever certainty we still had left.
“The Custodian is supposed to be dead.”