2024-10-29 15:29:30As Max woke up, he stretched with a grin, feeling lighter than he had in years.
“No budgeting, no calculating shifts…” he murmured, staring at the ceiling. “So this is what freedom feels like.”
He sat up, glancing at his worn-out sneakers by the door and laughing.
“Well, guess it’s time to treat myself. No cafeteria lines today—let’s go somewhere extravagant. Somewhere… off-limits,” he whispered with a smirk.
As he dressed, a thought crept in.
“Any restaurant, any meal, no more checking prices.” He shook his head, still marveling.
He decided against the cafeteria and dressed up, calling for a taxi to take him somewhere he’d always dreamed of going.
“Brightwood shopping center, please,” he told the driver, a hint of excitement in his voice.
The driver glanced at him through the mirror.
“Big place. Got some fancy plans for the day?”
“You could say that,” Max replied, smirking to himself. “I’m thinking of treating myself to the best lunch they’ve got.”
The cab pulled up to the towering, glass-walled center, and memories flooded back.
He smiled ruefully, remembering all those times Amanda had visited this place, always excited for “just a little shopping.”
“She’d always ask me to come in,” he muttered, shaking his head.
“I’d just hand over cash I didn’t have and sit outside, waiting. For what?” He chuckled dryly. “Trying to buy her happiness. Who was I kidding?”
But then, standing there, a realization hit him.
“Wait—I own this now. This is my family’s business.” He looked up at the sleek building, an amused smirk forming.
“Amanda would have loved that. But all those times I felt small? I get it now… I was never lacking; I just didn’t have the money.”
A breeze blew past, rustling his shirt, and he took a breath.
“Weird how now that I can afford the most expensive restaurant.”
The taxi drove off, leaving him standing there, and as he walked up to the entrance, he felt a calm settle over him, a feeling of belonging.
He paused, taking in the view one last time before stepping forward.
“And there’s nothing, or no one, here who can make me feel small again.”
As Max approached the gleaming entrance of the upscale shopping center, a security guard stepped in front of him, blocking his way with a disdainful look.
“Whoa, where do you think you’re going, buddy?” the guard asked, his eyes sweeping over Max’s worn-out jacket and faded jeans.
“Inside,” Max replied calmly, trying not to let the guard’s sneer get under his skin. “I’m here for lunch.”
The guard let out a harsh laugh. “Lunch? Here? You’ve got to be kidding me. Look, this isn’t the kind of place for… people like you.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill, waving it in front of Max. “Here, take this, find yourself a nice little burger shack down the road. Should be enough to get you a combo meal.”
Max’s face reddened as he stared at the money in the guard’s hand.
“I don’t need your money, and I don’t need your judgment,” he shot back, crossing his arms defiantly.
“I’m just here for a meal, like any normal customer.”
The guard smirked, crossing his arms as well.
“Normal customer? Look at you. This place is for people who can actually afford to eat here, not for guys pretending to play rich. Why don’t you save yourself the embarrassment?”
Max clenched his fists, his pulse racing with irritation. “You’re judging me based on my clothes? That’s ridiculous.”
“Ridiculous?” The guard laughed even louder, drawing the attention of a few shoppers passing by.
“No, what’s ridiculous is you thinking you could afford even a sip of water in there. You’re not fooling anyone, pal.”
Nearby, Emily Rose, she recognized the man who had saved her few days back.
She was listening the chaos, that was created in between the guard and her savior.
Max could see that the guard’s taunts were starting to draw a small crowd, and the guard only seemed to get bolder.
“Look,” the guard continued, his voice dripping with contempt, “either take the ten bucks or turn around and walk. I’m giving you a chance to save face here, alright?”
Max took a steadying breath, doing his best to keep his cool.
“What if I told you I actually could afford to eat here?”
The guard rolled his eyes.
“Oh, sure. And I’m next in line for the royal throne. Look, let’s cut the act. You’re just a broke college kid trying to look fancy for a minute. Don’t waste my time, alright?”
Max’s jaw tightened as he felt his patience slipping.
“You don’t know a thing about me. Just because I’m not dressed in designer doesn’t mean I don’t belong here.”
The guard scoffed, stepping closer with a mocking grin.
“You’re right, I don’t know you, and I don’t care to. But I’ve seen your type before—guys who walk around acting like they own the place when they can barely scrape together bus fare. How about you just leave before I make you?”
Max’s face hardened. “And what exactly would you do if I am a real customer?”
The guard snickered, his expression smug.
“Oh, let me tell you what I’d do. If you could actually afford a meal in this place, I’d be willing to eat a toilet from the restaurant!”
The crowd chuckled at the guard’s comment, a few people even encouraging his taunts.
Max felt a mix of embarrassment and anger, his gaze shifting from the guard to the onlookers who seemed to find this all so amusing.
He took a steady breath, reaching into his pocket.
“You sure about that?” he asked, his voice icy.
“Absolutely,” the guard laughed, crossing his arms. “Go ahead, big shot. Prove it!”
At that moment, a sudden female voice was heard, "So it seems you're determined to eat a toilet!"
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Smoke curled from the ruins of the Vatican bunker, the last remnant of the Council’s stronghold. Fires still burned in the distance, and the world, though free, stood on the precipice of uncertainty.Max Montgomery exhaled slowly, his chest rising and falling with exhaustion. His body ached from the brutal battle, every muscle screaming for relief. Yet, despite the pain, he felt something foreign—peace.Elliot stood beside him, his arms crossed as he surveyed the destruction. His sharp blue eyes flickered to Max. “The world’s looking for a new ruler,” he said, voice edged with both caution and curiosity. “What happens next?”Max let the question hang in the air.He knew the answer.If he wanted, he could take it all. The fractured governments, the collapsed economies, the remnants of the Council’s infrastructure—he could shape the world as he saw fit. No one could stop him now. Not after everything he had done. Not after everything he had lost.But was that ever what he truly wanted?
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The cold weight of the gun in Max’s hand felt heavier than ever. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, drowning out everything else. The choice before him was a devil’s bargain—kill Graves and inherit a poisoned throne, or let him live and become a puppet to the same cycle of tyranny.But then, Max saw something else.The core.A towering monolith of tech, embedded into the ancient stone walls of the Vatican’s hidden bunker. Wires pulsed like veins of a mechanical god, feeding into Omega Protocol, the system that had brought the world to its knees.This wasn’t a throne. It was a leash.And Max was done playing their game.He raised his gun—not at Graves, but at the control core.Graves’ smirk wavered. “What do you think you’re doing?”Max’s finger tensed on the trigger. For the first time, Graves looked nervous.“You idiot—if you destroy that, you’ll—”BANG.The bullet tore through the control core, striking dead center. The screen fractured, sparks erupting as the entire system scream
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Graves’ eyes slid over to Max’s father, who stood silent in the shadows. “Don’t all Montgomeries crave power in the end? Isn’t that the legacy, Reginald?”Reginald bristled, stepping forward. “My legacy is none of your concern.”Max’s mind spun with the enormity of Graves’ words. Kill him, and the new world order plunges into irreversible chaos. Spare him, and become the thing he despised.He tightened his grip on his weapon. “I’m not playing your game, Graves.”Graves lifted a brow. “Oh, but you are. The moment you stepped foot in this bunker, you became a participant.”Molly whispered behind Max, “He can’t be serious. Omega Protocol can’t be that absolute.”Graves gave her a pitying smile. “You’d be surprised. It’s older than you think—plans laid down before you were even born.” Emily touched Max’s shoulder again, voice low. “You’re not them. You’re not your father’s betrayal, you’re not the Council’s puppet. Please, remember that.”Max’s thoughts churned with doubt and determinati
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Suddenly, the lamps buzzed, revealing a lone figure at the far end of the hall. No guards. No backup. Just Graves, standing calmly with his hands clasped behind his back, wearing that same condescending smile.Elliot stopped, raising his weapon. “Don’t trust this.”Graves lifted a brow. “Ah, Elliot Stoke. The reluctant ally turned saboteur. And Max Montgomery—what a family reunion.”Max’s voice was cold. “We’re here to finish what you started.”Graves chuckled, echoing through the vaulted chamber. “I started nothing. I merely inherited the Council’s vision. But you—” He pointed at Max, his eyes gleaming. “You’re the fool who thinks you can destroy an idea.”Red Fang spat on the ground. “Keep talking, old man. We’re not impressed.”Max’s thoughts hammered in his skull: Why is he alone? Where are the guards? The Council’s loyal to him— unless he wants us to think this is easy.Graves took a slow step forward, arms still relaxed at his sides. “You’ve come so far. Sacrificed so much. All
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The ancient skyline of Rome lay before them as they descended. Even from the air, Max could see chaos unfolding: streets clogged with protestors, fires flickering in the distance, sirens echoing off centuries-old buildings. The world’s financial collapse had reached Europe, and the city was on the brink.Emily leaned over the seat, peering through the helicopter’s window. “Max, look down there. It’s anarchy. We might not even make it through those streets.”Max tightened his grip on the harness. “We have to. The bunker’s somewhere under the Vatican catacombs.”Elliot snorted. “If Graves wanted to pick the perfect stage for a final showdown, he chose well. The Council’s been burying secrets down there for centuries.”Red Fang checked his gear, a grim smile on his face. “Then let’s rip those secrets out of the ground.”Max’s thoughts whirled as the helicopter touched down on a half-abandoned rooftop. He couldn’t ignore the tension building in his chest. Graves has been planning this lon
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Max’s father, who had been quietly observing, let out a troubled sigh. “So, that’s where they started. The seat of influence. The place they built centuries ago to shape politics, faith, and money.”Elliot gave a humorless laugh. “They’ve been hiding under the Pope’s nose this entire time? That’s beyond twisted.”Max’s expression hardened. “Then that’s where we go.”“Are you insane?” Molly looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “The Vatican is one of the most secure places on the planet, and that’s before you factor in Council infiltration.”Red Fang sneered. “Secure for them. We’ll do what we always do—walk in and tear it down.”Elliot crossed his arms. “**We’re not exactly in top shape to storm a bunker in Vatican City. The entire world’s on fire, borders are locked down, airports are chaos—we can’t just hop on a plane.”Emily stepped forward, tone resolute. “We find a way. We always do.”Max nodded. “They want to bury the world in chaos, and they’re using that bunker to orchestrate
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Max barely felt the pain anymore. His body had been beaten, broken, and pushed to its limits—but none of that mattered. Not now. Not when Emily’s life was on the line.Graves’ voice still echoed in his ears, smooth, confident, filled with amusement.“You’ve fought so hard to uncover the truth, Max. But power? Power was never meant for people like you.”Max had heard those words before. People like you.They had told his father the same thing before they locked him away. Before they stripped him of his name, his empire, his legacy.Max was done listening.His fingers curled around the small, concealed blade hidden in his sleeve. He barely moved, barely breathed, waiting for the moment when Graves leaned just a little too close.Then, with a flick of his wrist, he struck.The blade sliced deep into Graves’ forearm.Graves let out a sharp snarl, stumbling back, blood dripping onto the cold steel floor. His smug demeanor shattered.Max didn’t give him time to recover. He surged forward, d
