A microscopic pinpoint of light illuminated beneath his skin.
Iris scan authenticated.
A narrow biometric display flickered to life across his flesh, revealing faint text visible only from his specific angle.
The messages scrolled by, line by line.
[Pier Seven cleared for secure operations.]
[Backup experimental containment protocols engaged.]
[The Reception Team is in position. Standing by for A.W.S.-14.]
As he read the updates, his already frayed nerves tightened to a snapping point, his heart plummeting.
Whitecliffe Harbor had already mobilized.
The drop zone, the containment procedures, even the backup lab spaces were fully primed.
It meant headquarters already knew he had been forced to spend one hundred and thirty billion dollars on the ship to buy back their own asset.
And they knew exactly when he was docking.
The Raven clenched his jaw.
He still hadn't figured out how to explain this apocalyptic mess.
Then... his eyes fell on the final line of text, and his pupils contracted sharply. The last traces of color drained from his face, leaving behind an ashen mask of pure dread.
[He has arrived early.]
Just those five words.
A violent shudder ripped through his body.
The Overlord... was already here?
Project Zero-Transit hadn't even docked yet, and he was already waiting in Whitecliffe Harbor.
The more he thought about it, the heavier his breathing became, raw terror bleeding into his expression.
Had The Overlord arrived early to personally oversee Specimen Fourteen's integration, or was he here to execute the man responsible for this disaster...
The Raven didn't know. He was too terrified to even entertain the thought.
He had assumed he'd have a small window of time.
At least enough time to step off the boat, rally his ground forces, secure Specimen Fourteen, and spring a trap for The Panacea to buy back his life.
But now, someone was already waiting for him at the harbor.
Waiting for him to disembark, waiting for him to confess exactly how he had dismantled years of meticulous operations overnight.
The Raven clenched his fist tightly, watching as the self-destructing text melted away into his skin.
A suffocating shadow fell over his eyes.
No, he had to keep it together.
He had to find a way to transmit his theory about The Panacea's identity to The Overlord before they came face to face.
As long as he could prove she was Serena Lancaster, as long as he could capture her alive during the transfer, he might still keep his head.
Just as he was franticly trying to devise a way to transmit a message back to The Reception Team, the heary electronic lock on his door suddenly clicked.
The door swung open.
The Raven immediately dropped his arm, concealing the faint residual glow beneath his sleeve.
He turned toward the entrance.
They were deep into Whitecliffe Controlled Waters now.
The ship's security was likely here to lift his confinement and prep him for disembarkation.
Once he was out of this miserable room, he'd have time to orchestrate his trap.
But as the door opened, a fully armed tactical squad stormed into the room.
Their faces were obscured by black masks.
Their weapons were unholstered, safeties off, ready to fire.
The squad leader stopped in front of him, his gaze ice-cold, his voice devoid of all emotion. "Mr. Raven. Project Zero-Transit is about to dock at Whitecliffe Harbor On The Commodore's orders, my team wil assume full custody of your itinerary from this moment forward."
The Raven scowled furiously. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"It means you will cooperate with us and submit to regulatory processing before exiting the vessel," the leader stated flatly. "Obsidian Sun's
partnership and transit clearamel.no
remain fully suspended. The
investigation to A.WS 14, your Compromised medical staff, and the unauthorized smuggling ring is far from over."