The world didn't stop just because I exposed it.
If anything, it spun faster.
Within a week, Grant Corp became the name on every feed. Not just for the Persephone leak, but for something worse:
[Scene break]
"Should an ex-subject of mind-altering research lead a Fortune 50 company?"
"Grant Heiress or Experimental Product?"
"World Government Committee Calls for Investigation."
They used the truth as ammunition.
And it worked.
The board was rattled. Shareholders were nervous. Media vultures fed on words like legacy and DNA tampering.
No one cared that I was the one who blew the whistle.
They just wanted to know how much of me was "still real."
---
I stood in front of the mirror in the Grant Tower's 52nd floor suite, dressed in a tailored black pantsuit. The room smelled like clean steel and imported flowers.
Lucian watched silently from the window.
"You're thinking of what they'll say," he said.
"No," I replied. "I'm thinking about what they won't."
He turned. "And what's that?"
"That they're scared. Because I survived what should've destroyed me. And I didn't break. That makes me unpredictable."
Lucian gave a small, sad smile. "No. That makes you dangerous."
---
The Grant shareholders' emergency assembly was brutal.
I didn't smile. I didn't soften.
I stood at the podium and gave them numbers. Strategy. Recovery forecasts. Risk management models.
Then I gave them truth.
"You want someone who knows how to lie?" I asked, voice sharp. "Then go back to the Dawsons. They're still hiding in Europe under a dozen shell identities. But if you want someone who's already walked through hell and still knows how to lead…"
I leaned forward.
"Then look at me."
Silence followed.
Then one clap.
Then five.
Then the room stood.
It was a win.
But I knew better than to trust applause.
---
Later that evening, Naomi burst into my office without knocking.
Her face was pale.
"You need to see this," she said, holding up her tablet.
A video was playing.
Low resolution. Grainy.
But the voice was clear.
[Scene break]
"They think Ava Grant saved them. But the system doesn't die with one broadcast. It adapts. It waits. And I'm proof."
[Scene break]
The camera panned slightly, revealing a face I hadn't seen in weeks.
Mira.
Her hair was shorter now. Eyes darker. She wasn't the girl who begged me to shut it all down.
She was something colder.
[Scene break]
"I'm not hiding. I'm evolving. The real war hasn't started yet."
Then the screen went black.
---
Lucian watched the replay twice.
"She was supposed to be protected," he said quietly. "We moved her. Monitored her. She didn't leave through any of our access points."
"She didn't leave," I murmured. "She escaped."
Naomi set down the tablet. "That video wasn't uploaded through any known platform. It was dropped directly into private investor inboxes, government archives, and three anonymous news agencies. In seconds."
Lucian looked at me. "She wants to start a panic."
"She wants to test the waters," I said. "And see who swims toward her."
---
That night, I received an envelope.
No return name. No seal.
Inside: a white invitation card with black foil lettering.
You are cordially invited to The Summit at Ravenholdt.
— L.D.
---
The next morning, Lucian paced as I read the invite aloud.
"You can't go," he said immediately. "It's a trap."
"No," I said. "It's a chessboard. And she's inviting me to play."
Naomi chimed in. "Ravenholdt's not just a location — it's a private summit attended by legacy families, black-budget scientists, and off-record politicians. The kind of people who still want programs like Persephone."
Lucian stared at me. "If you walk in there, you might not walk out."
"I'll take that risk."
---
We arrived at Ravenholdt in silence.
The mansion was hidden deep in the Austrian countryside, surrounded by mountain forests and guarded by private security teams with no patches, no ranks, and no names.
Inside, it was all marble and whispers.
People in designer suits moved like ghosts.
And at the far end of the atrium stood Lily Dawson.
Alive.
Dressed in ivory. Unapologetic.
She raised a glass to me.
"Welcome back, Ava."
---
"I should have you arrested," I said under my breath as we were led to a quiet salon chamber.
Lily smiled like it was a game.
"You could. But then you'd miss the show."
"What show?"
She gestured around. "The next generation of Persephone. The ones who volunteered."
I froze.
Naomi paled.
Lucian moved closer to me.
"You continued the program," I said.
"I didn't need to," Lily said. "I just reminded them of how useful it could be. You gave them the spotlight. I gave them direction."
She leaned in.
"You might have killed the old system. But you built the platform."
---
The rest of the summit blurred into poisoned smiles and paper-thin threats.
It wasn't a business meeting.
It was a war council.
And I had walked right into it.
---
Later that night, Naomi found me on the terrace.
"They have backing," she said. "Private weapons firms. Genetics labs. Even some defense contractors from countries that never signed the UN ethics treaty."
I didn't speak.
"Do we expose them?"
I shook my head.
"Not yet."
Naomi frowned. "Why?"
"Because the world's already used to looking away," I said. "They need something they can't ignore."
---
In my suite, I stared at the photo of my mother.
Then I pulled out the one thing I had never used from her vault.
The last vial.
Labeled:
"Code: A – Bloom Protocol."
Lucian entered quietly.
"You're not thinking of using that," he said.
"I'm thinking of showing them what happens when the cure survives."
He stared at me for a long time.
Then sat beside me.
"I won't stop you," he said. "But I'll stand between you and the fire if it burns too bright."
I looked at him.
And nodded.
---
Outside, the wind howled like it knew something we didn't.
But I didn't fear storms anymore.
I was one.
Yes I was one.