DAY 100,003
7:00 AM
Eron rose without the alarm today.
He didn't need it anymore.
Not when his mind remembered every second of this city's rhythm like a conductor memorizing a symphony.
Today wasn't about Dorian.
Today was about the boy behind the counter.
---
8:02 AM – Midtown Café
A tiny bell chimed as Eron stepped into the coffee shop.
Luka stood behind the counter, wiping a cup absentmindedly. Young. Overworked. Forgettable. Exactly what Helix had counted on when they recruited him for small courier exchanges and off-the-record errands.
He was the kind of asset Helix never expected to think for himself.
Eron watched as Luka fumbled with the espresso machine, then looked up and forced a smile.
"Morning. Usual?"
"Sure," Eron said, laying a folded $50 on the counter. "But I want a name with it this time."
Luka paused. "…name?"
"Of the man who picked up the dark briefcase two days ago. Black gloves. Navy coat."
Luka's eyes narrowed, unsure. "You got the wrong guy."
Eron leaned forward. "I've looped this day 183 times. You spill coffee on me 41 times, forget my change 92 times, and by Try #140, you finally whisper it: 'Langdon.'"
Luka stared at him like he'd lost his mind.
Eron smiled politely.
"Save us both the time."
---
8:06 AM
Luka slowly pushed the coffee forward.
"Langdon. Floor 11. Helix logistics."
"Thank you."
"Why… why does it matter?"
Eron looked him dead in the eyes.
"Because Langdon's about to disappear. And I need him to vanish exactly two days from now… not today."
Luka went pale.
"I didn't say anything," he whispered quickly.
"You didn't," Eron confirmed, sliding a second bill across the counter. "And you won't."
---
8:17 AM – Outside the Café
Eron scribbled into his pocket notebook.
> Luka compliant. Timeline preserved. Langdon ID confirmed.
Target is in position for controlled failure.
The truth was simple:
Langdon was sloppy. Arrogant. And desperate.
He'd already sold Helix info in dozens of loops.
Eron had watched him get caught, tortured, bribed, even promoted—depending on the reaction he triggered.
But this time, Eron wouldn't expose him.
He'd use him.
---
9:45 AM – Helix HQ, Delivery Room
Langdon yawned, half asleep as he signed a delivery manifest.
Eron watched through a hidden camera stream he'd installed years ago in another loop.
Langdon was already texting his buyer.
The same message. Same code.
Same mistake.
Eron sent a secure message to Dorian.
> "Track the courier with badge L-47.
He's carrying proof that your boss is laundering tech."
Seconds later, Dorian responded:
> "Are you sure?"
Eron replied:
> "This time? Yes."
10:00 AM – Helix HQ, Internal Logistics
Langdon adjusted his tie, barely aware of the tension building behind him.
He tapped his badge at the security gate, cradling the black briefcase with false confidence. The tech inside wasn't just valuable—it was traceable. Eron had modified the loop's chain of events to ensure the device carried a hidden sub-tracker and altered ID tag.
Langdon thought he was smuggling stolen neural-mapping tech to an outside bidder.
What he didn't know?
He was walking it directly into an internal sting.
---
10:15 AM – Surveillance Room
Dorian watched the blinking red dot on the screen.
He had followed Eron's tip reluctantly at first. But now, as the tracker showed Langdon moving through Helix corridors, it all lined up.
A logistics clerk. With no clearance. Transporting something that should never leave Vault Sector.
He clicked into internal comms.
"Team Delta. Shadow the courier. Do not intercept. I want eyes until the handoff."
One of the agents responded: "You think this is connected to the G-14 drop?"
"I think we've been chasing ghosts in the wrong hallway," Dorian muttered.
---
10:28 AM – Back Alley, Old Central Station
Langdon slipped through a maintenance door. He always met the buyer here.
A man in a gray jacket waited with a cigarette and briefcase of cash.
Langdon handed over the tech. As always.
But the moment the briefcase changed hands—
a flashbang exploded behind them.
Langdon hit the ground screaming.
The buyer tried to run—
—but a containment foam unit locked his legs in place.
Dorian stepped through the smoke.
"Courier L-47," he said, voice cold. "You've been compromised."
Langdon blinked up at him, eyes wide. "I—I didn't know—!"
"That's the problem."
---
11:10 AM – Rooftop Nearby
Eron watched it unfold through binoculars, crouched low behind a water tank.
He smiled—not because Langdon had been caught.
But because Malco Frey had no idea that this operation traced directly back to him.
Now Dorian would start pulling threads, and every thread would lead back to the rotten roots Helix tried to bury.
Eron closed his notebook:
> Dorian now trusts the source.
Langdon has served his purpose.
Malco will panic.
Tomorrow, the board meeting begins.
He stood up.
"Next move… leak the board agenda."
12:05 PM – Helix Board Archives, Floor 18
Most Helix operatives never saw this room.
It required triple authorization and retinal scan, and it was said only senior board members had access. But Eron didn't need a badge anymore.
Not when he had watched every variation of this hallway's patterns—guards who left early, lights that flickered, and the one vent that wasn't alarmed in Loop 66,214.
Now, on Try #100,003, he used it again.
Slipping inside, quiet as a whisper, Eron knelt beside the terminal. He input the sequence he'd cracked 4,000 tries ago.
Admin Override Accepted.
---
12:13 PM – Download Begins
Eron didn't need everything.
He only wanted the internal memo detailing the next Helix Strategic Board Meeting—when, where, and who would be present.
He planted two things:
1. A fake agenda item—"Unauthorized Black Ops Unit Investigation, submitted anonymously."
2. A silent trace beacon embedded in the memo that would ping when opened.
He wanted them paranoid.
Not about a traitor—
But about each other.
---
1:42 PM – Dorian's Office
Dorian read the updated board meeting memo on his secured terminal.
When he saw the anonymous report, his brow furrowed.
He hadn't submitted anything yet.
But someone knew.
Someone inside Helix was already moving ahead of him.
And the seed of doubt… took root.
He leaned back in his chair and muttered, "Who the hell are you?"
---
2:00 PM – Helix Executive Lounge
Malco Frey stirred his tea absentmindedly, his thoughts elsewhere.
His assistant walked in, holding a tablet.
"Sir, the board memo was updated. New agenda item flagged as high priority. Possibly internal sabotage."
Malco's hands froze.
He scanned the document—
And for a half second, he felt the phantom breath of a ghost he'd tried to forget.
"This wasn't supposed to resurface…"
The assistant tilted her head. "Sir?"
Malco stood slowly.
"Reschedule my 4 PM call. I need to visit the vaults."
---
2:07 PM – Rooftop Adjacent to Helix
Eron read the signal confirmation from his modified tablet.
Both Malco and Dorian had opened the trace.
He could feel the storm starting.
Two factions. Two powerful minds.
Now facing opposite directions.
And he?
He was just the voice in the wind, guiding the pieces.
---
Journal Entry – Try 100,003
> Malco suspects an old ghost.
Dorian suspects a new enemy.
The truth: neither has any idea who I really am.
Tomorrow, I trigger the confession.
3:10 PM – Interrogation Room C, Helix HQ
Langdon was shaking.
The steel chair beneath him was cold. The overhead light buzzed softly, casting shadows across his sweat-lined face.
Dorian stood across the table, arms crossed.
"No lawyer. No press. No oversight," Dorian said calmly. "Just you, me, and the truth."
Langdon swallowed. "I—I didn't mean to betray Helix. It was just side cash. Deliveries. That's all."
"Names."
"I don't know! Everything was routed through burner codes!"
Dorian placed a folder on the table and opened it—
Inside was a surveillance photo from Try #100,000.
Langdon gasped.
"That photo doesn't exist," he whispered. "That angle—those cams were taken offline..."
Exactly.
Dorian didn't know it, but Eron had provided the image via secure leak hours earlier, timed perfectly to deepen Langdon's paranoia.
Dorian leaned forward. "Who gave you the briefcase on Thursday?"
Langdon broke.
"He called himself Argon. Always wore gloves. Changed his accent every time. Said he had dirt on Malco. Said Helix was about to collapse."
Dorian froze.
That was the second time in two days someone had alluded to Malco Frey.
He stood up slowly, closed the folder, and said, "You've just earned yourself protection."
---
4:21 PM – Helix Vault Corridor
Malco descended into the vault hallway alone. The walls pulsed with cold fluorescent light. Every footstep echoed with weight.
He reached Vault-7 and input his credentials.
As the door hissed open, a voice behind him spoke softly.
"Did you expect your sins to stay buried forever, Malco?"
Malco spun around, but the corridor was empty.
A speaker in the ceiling clicked off.
He stared into the open vault… and felt his hands tremble.
That voice. It sounded like… him.
But that man was long dead. Or… was he?
---
5:15 PM – Rooftop Journal Entry
Eron watched the building as the sun dipped low behind the skyline.
The pieces were moving perfectly.
> Malco is unraveling.
Dorian is digging.
Langdon confessed.
The board will be split before Friday.
Time to push the next piece.
He flipped to a new page and wrote just two words:
"Lure Kamira."
He closed the journal and stood.