*CHAPTER FIVE: THE ARCHITECTS*
Two months after Tripoli, Edward was summoned to a classified location in Northern Chad—what they called *The Vault*.
A sleek, windowless structure buried in red earth.
Inside, he met *Victor Kalu* for the first time.
Polished. Charismatic. Dressed like a diplomat, not a spymaster. He spoke with the calm of a man who believed in control.
"I've heard of you, Wraith," Victor said, pouring two glasses of aged scotch. "Your record is… flawless."
Edward didn't drink.
Victor continued, "You're not just a tool. You're a product of design. *Our* design."
He handed Edward a folder.
Inside: satellite images, intercepted emails, financial statements.
Edward recognized a name.
His father's.
"Your father was on to something," Victor said. "He found a thread that, if pulled, could've unraveled a billion-dollar pipeline."
Edward's pulse quickened.
"He didn't vanish," Victor said. "He was silenced. Not by us—but by the ones who used us. The *Architects*."
***
That night, Edward read every page.
The "Architects" were a hidden cabal of military, private sector elites, and rogue intelligence leaders.
They funded the Black River Program.
They staged conflicts to justify arms deals.
They buried whistleblowers—including his father.
Edward now understood:
He hadn't joined the system.
He was *trained* to protect it—unknowingly.
But Victor said something else before he left:
"You're not like the others. One day, you'll either lead us… or destroy us."
Edward stared at his reflection that night.
His face didn't look young anymore.
It looked dangerous.
And tired of being a puppet.
---
*CHAPTER SIX: THE QUIET ALLY*
*Location:* Borno State, Nigeria
*Operation:* Intercept a rogue military officer leaking drone intel to separatists.
Edward posed as a logistics analyst embedded with the Nigerian army—his cover flawless. On paper, he was there to advise.
In reality, he was there to eliminate.
But things weren't adding up.
The "leaker," Lt. Colonel *Folarin Adebayo*, wasn't hiding.
He was *warning civilians* about drone strikes that weren't supposed to happen.
Edward followed him for days, expecting betrayal.
What he found instead was a man trying to *stop* the bloodshed.
***
One night, Edward broke protocol.
He approached Folarin in the officer's mess.
"You know they sent someone for you," Edward said quietly.
Folarin didn't flinch. "I know. I was hoping it'd be someone who still has a conscience."
Edward narrowed his eyes. "How do you know I do?"
Folarin slid over a USB drive.
"Because if you didn't, you'd have killed me already."
***
That night, Edward listened to the files.
Drone footage of civilian camps misclassified as "enemy cells."
Orders approved by shadow accounts linked to the *Architects.*
Names… tied to the same accounts Victor once showed him.
Everything in Edward hardened.
They weren't just manipulating wars.
They were profiting from *slaughter*.
***
He made a call—unauthorized.
The next morning, Folarin disappeared from the base.
Gone.
No body. No trace.
Edward had arranged for his extraction, masked under a staged accident report.
He broke protocol.
He let the "target" live.
And no one knew.
Except Edward.
And the system watching.
For the first time, the ghost had gone rogue.
---
*CHAPTER SEVEN: THE FIRST CRACK*
Two weeks after Folarin's disappearance, Edward was reassigned.
Unusual.
No debrief. No commendation. Just new orders: *"Observation detail. Internal threat review."*
Code for: *We're watching you.*
They flew him to a private facility in the Congo Basin—deep jungle, no exit unless cleared by command.
Inside, Edward was given surveillance footage, agent profiles, and a list.
On it: names of "compromised assets."
At the top: *Lt. Colonel Folarin Adebayo. Status: Terminated.*
Edward's blood went cold.
He'd arranged for Folarin's escape. Someone had covered it up… or lied.
Someone was protecting him.
But who?
***
Later that night, Edward found a blank envelope in his room.
No markings. No return code.
Inside: a photo of a woman in a radio booth, face lit by red signal lights.
On the back, in handwriting: *"She knows where the bodies are buried. When you're ready, find her."*
No signature.
No instructions.
Just another ghost.
Edward stared at the photo.
The name tag on the desk said: *Zainab I.*
He didn't know her yet.
But she would become *Zee.*
***
Back at the Congo facility, Victor Kalu visited unannounced.
"You're slipping," he said, calm but dangerous.
Edward didn't blink. "I complete every mission."
Victor poured himself a drink. "You do. But lately, you're asking *why*."
He leaned forward.
"That's not what ghosts do."
Edward met his eyes.
"Maybe it's time they did."
Victor studied him for a long beat.
Then smiled faintly.
"Be careful, Edward. The Architects built the mirror you're standing in. Break it… and they won't just come for you. They'll erase you."
***
That night, Edward packed.
He knew it now.
He was done being a ghost.
But he couldn't leave loud.
Not yet.
So he vanished quietly—one file at a time, one lie at a time.
And the Wraith… began watching his makers.
---
*CHAPTER EIGHT: STATIC AND SPARKS*
*Location:* Lagos, Nigeria
*Objective:* Contact the voice behind the signal — *Zainab Ibrahim*, alias "Zee."
Edward entered the city as a ghost. Untraceable, unarmed, out of uniform.
Zee wasn't easy to find. Her radio show ran underground through encrypted pirate frequencies. She moved locations weekly. Changed aliases daily.
But Edward was trained to find patterns. Even in chaos.
One night, tucked behind a mechanic shop in Agege, he heard her voice echo through a hacked speaker.
"…and if you think the people running your country aren't pocketing blood money, then you haven't read the classified budget reports."
He smiled faintly.
Found her.
***
At 3 a.m., she caught him standing in her transmitter room.
Black hoodie. Cold stare. Still. Like he belonged in shadows.
Zee pulled a switchblade. "Who the hell are you?"
Edward didn't flinch. "You've been talking about things you shouldn't understand."
She stepped closer. "Or maybe I understand them better than the people who created them."
He placed a flash drive on the table. "Proof. Unfiltered. From inside Blacksite 9."
Zee's guard dropped for just a second.
"How'd you get that?"
"I lived there."
She narrowed her eyes. "And what? You suddenly grew a conscience?"
"No," Edward said. "I grew tired of being useful to monsters."
***
They didn't trust each other. Not yet.
But Zee loaded the flash drive and started scanning the files.
Bank accounts. Death orders. Civilian hits reclassified as enemy kills.
Her face hardened.
"So what do you want from me?"
Edward leaned in.
"I want to burn them down. But I need a voice loud enough to expose them."
Zee raised a brow.
"And you think that's me?"
Edward looked her dead in the eye.
"I know it's you."
***
They stayed up all night. Planning. Arguing. Decoding.
By dawn, they had the blueprint for a leak that could shatter the Architects' control.
For the first time, Edward wasn't operating alone.
And for the first time, Zee wasn't just talking about change.
She was *engineering* it.
Together, they lit the fuse.