Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta, Colombia
The air was thin, sharp with altitude and secrets. High in the emerald folds of Colombia's Sierra Nevada mountains, dense jungle gave way to a facility half-buried beneath ancient stone ruins—tech and time coiled together like serpents in a shared nest.
Damien adjusted his thermal visor as he crouched among the ferns. Beside him, Nora studied the layout through a drone feed projected on her wristband. The readings were strange—life signatures that blinked, then vanished. Heat spikes in patterns that mimicked heartbeats… but only for moments.
"This isn't just a lab," she murmured. "It's a resurrection cradle."
Damien's jaw tensed. "Then Archer's not planning to return alone."
They moved in silence. Kiyomi flanked from the east, Elijah from the west. The mission was surgical—extract or destroy what remained inside. But nothing about this place felt simple.
As they neared the entry hatch, Damien paused.
His breath caught.
A symbol was carved into the stone beside the reinforced door—a phoenix wrapped in chains, wings pierced by seven blades.
Nora noticed. "You know that mark?"
He nodded slowly. "My mother's side. The Nevarros. They vanished during the Rift Wars in Sierra Leone. One cousin survived… but he never surfaced again."
"Until now?" she asked.
He didn't answer.
Because the reinforced door slid open from the inside—no alarms, no weapons drawn.
And in the sterile white corridor stood a man Damien hadn't seen in two decades.
Same eyes. Same posture. But colder. Hardened.
"Hello, Damien," he said in Spanish-accented English. "Been a long time, cousin."
Inside the Facility
The reunion was far from warm.
Miguel Nevarro had been presumed dead after a black-ops mission in Eastern Congo. But now, he stood as commander of Archer's Colombian lab—though not entirely by choice.
He led them through long halls laced with cryo-chambers, nanite columns, and reinforced cells holding… anomalies.
"Archer came here to test reanimation," Miguel explained. "Not of the body—but of influence. He's trying to awaken not just people… but bloodlines. He believes legacy can be coded, passed through gene memory."
Nora frowned. "That's why he's been targeting descendants of the old world families."
"Yes. And embedding his consciousness in each."
Damien stopped. "So he's building clones of himself?"
Miguel shook his head. "No… vessels. Each carrying a fragment of him. The plan is to activate all at once—thirteen fragments across the globe. When they converge, Archer becomes omnipresent."
Nora's voice was ice. "Where are the vessels?"
Miguel gestured toward the chamber ahead.
Rows of biopods filled the room—each containing a sleeping form. Not identical… but all marked by a strange similarity in bone structure, posture, and something haunting in the face.
"They're not fully grown," Miguel said. "But they're accelerating. In seventy-two hours, they'll be combat-ready."
Damien stepped closer to one pod… and froze.
Inside it was a teenage version of himself.
He looked at Miguel. "What the hell is this?"
"Archer used your DNA. Yours, Nora's, and others connected to the Sovereign Codex. These aren't just clones. They're engineered heirs—genetically modified to inherit not power… but obedience."
---
Alarms screamed.
"Too late," Miguel muttered. "The internal AI picked up your biometrics. Archer's failsafe protocols are triggering."
From the ceilings, defense turrets descended. Walls shifted, splitting to reveal armored guards with visors bearing the Blackridge insignia.
"You brought them here," Nora snapped.
"I had no choice," Miguel said, pulling a coded ring from his neck and slamming it into the terminal. "But I'm ending it now."
He turned to Damien. "You either kill me, or let me do this."
The ground trembled. The biopods began to drain. One vessel opened—a boy no older than sixteen stepped out, his eyes vacant… until they locked with Damien's.
And smiled.
"Hello, father," the clone said.