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The news of Daniel's death sent a wave of shock and unease through the Bureau and the highest echelons of the U.S. government.

Though they had suspected Silas might kill Daniel, they hadn't anticipated the way it would happen—Daniel taken out with eerie precision, without a trace of Silas's physical presence.

The chilling manner of Daniel's death left them acutely aware of just how elusive and dangerous Silas was becoming.

Shortly after the report of the murder came in, the Bureau launched a secret investigation to determine the identity of the killer. Though deep down, most of them suspected who was responsible.

Despite their efforts, no substantial evidence had surfaced. The investigation only served to highlight how little control they had over the situation.

In one of the offices of the Bureau, a tense group of Phenomenals, including Elizabeth, David, Pablo, and several others, gathered around the television as the news looped endlessly, rehashing the mysterious circumstances surrounding Daniel's demise.

When the broadcast finally ended, Elizabeth turned off the television and faced the group, her face unreadable as her gaze swept over them.

"What do you all think?" she asked, her tone neutral yet pointed.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the room, each of them reluctant to speak the obvious truth. Visit m,v le,mpyr today

Elizabeth's eyes moved from one face to another, and in each one, she could see the same tense expressions—fear, apprehension, and resignation.

They all knew what was likely coming next, but no one wanted to be the first to voice it.

"It's because of that bastard Daniel," Pablo finally snapped, slamming his fist onto the table.

"This was all his doing. From the beginning, his plan was doomed to fail, and we all knew it. But now we're the ones left to face the consequences."

His outburst cut through the silence, and a few of the Phenomenals shifted uncomfortably.

Unlike some of the others, Pablo had never believed in Daniel's grand plan to bring down Silas.

He'd known from the start that going after someone as formidable as Silas was asking for disaster. And now, his fears had materialized in the worst way possible.

"Daniel didn't just fail," Pablo continued, his voice low and bitter. "He created a monster out of Silas. You've all seen the footage of him racing through the streets like something out of a nightmare. He's beyond anything we've ever known, and now he has every reason to come after us."

Pablo's anger simmered beneath the surface, but he knew there was nowhere to direct it.

Running wasn't an option—no one can leave the Bureau that easily. In fact, no one can leave after joining.

Besides, where would he even go? Silas was too powerful, and hiding wouldn't save him from someone who seemed to have no limitations.

Elizabeth looked away, her expression grim. She wished she could ease Pablo's fear, but she felt just as powerless as he did.

The call she'd received from Silas during the school incident haunted her. His calm warning had held a quiet threat, one she had tried to push aside but could no longer ignore.

She knew he would come for them, that he held them just as responsible as Daniel, and if he came… there would be no reasoning, no escape.

In her heart, Elizabeth was certain of one thing: if Silas arrived at their doorstep seeking retribution, they would be forced to confront him, and the outcome had already been decided.

The Bureau and the Phenomenals would be outmatched. She sighed, her frustration and exhaustion evident as she leaned back in her chair, staring blankly at the wall.

Why did it have to come to this? Why did someone like Daniel and Silas have to exist? She wondered, feeling a wave of resignation settle over her.

***

Inside the Oval Office at the White House, a similar tension filled the air. The President sat behind his desk, silently flipping through a slim folder of documents, his expression a mixture of irritation and disbelief.

He slowly raised his head, his eyes locking onto the two men standing before him.

"Would one of you like to explain what this is?" he asked, his voice barely concealing his frustration as he tapped the sparse document on the desk.

The Director of the CIA, a tall man in his sixties with silvering hair and a weary look, stepped forward.

"Mr. President, that's all the information we currently have on Silas… that's everything we were able to gather," he replied, his tone cautious.

The President's hand slammed down on the desk, the sudden bang reverberating through the room.

"Do you think I'm blind?" he snapped, his voice laced with anger. "I read it, and I know this is supposed to be information on Silas. What I'm asking is why there's so little in here!"

The second man, the Director of National Intelligence, tried to interject, but the President held up a hand, cutting him off.

"Are you telling me that we can't gather information on one of our own citizens? Did you even contact Goggle, social media companies, anyone who might have something?" His tone was incredulous, his eyes blazing with frustration.

"We did," the CIA Director replied, shifting uncomfortably. "We reached out to every major data aggregator and tech firm. But they don't have anything on him—not a digital footprint, no records, nothing."

"So?" The President's voice was barely more than a growl.

The CIA Director hesitated, then spoke quietly. "We've got nothing, sir."

The President sat back in his chair, staring at the two men in front of him, his gaze filled with barely-contained fury. He had expected setbacks, but he hadn't anticipated hitting a wall this thick.

For a moment, he simply glared at them, and the silence in the room grew thick with tension.

The truth is that he hasn't been taking anything the Phenomenals has been telling him about Silas serious but now he understood.

Finally, he leaned forward, his voice low but cold. "Are you telling me that one young man—one—has managed to slip through every system we have in place? That there's no trace of him? No records, no history?"

The Director of National Intelligence took a cautious step forward. "Sir, I believe there might be more going on here than we initially realized.

If I may… it's possible that someone with access to highly sophisticated technology has been concealing his identity for years. This isn't the work of an ordinary hacker or a private citizen. Whoever or whatever has protected Silas's records… it's beyond our reach, for now."

The President sat back, his expression hardening as he processed the implications. He could feel the weight of the situation bearing down on him.

The knowledge that an unknown entity was capable of shielding someone so thoroughly from the full force of the U.S. intelligence apparatus. It was something he hadn't encountered before, and it unsettled him deeply.

He took a slow breath, then spoke with a grim finality. "So you're telling me we're dealing with someone who has access to technology that surpasses our own?"

The CIA Director nodded reluctantly. "Yes, sir. And if we're right, it means Silas isn't just an anomaly; he's potentially aligned with powers and resources we can't yet understand or track."

The President's jaw tightened, and he looked away, his thoughts spiraling. If Silas had access to such advanced technology, then he wasn't just a potential threat—he was a ticking time bomb, one that could erupt at any moment and drag them into an international crisis.

He felt that he might even be related to a group similar to that group but he can't confirm anything for now.

For a few moments, the room was silent as the President's mind raced. Finally, he looked back at the two men, his voice steady but ice-cold.

"If that's the case, then we need to be ready for whatever might come next. And we need to be smarter than we've been so far."The President's eyes narrowed as he considered the options.

He knew that approaching Silas directly could be risky, but he couldn't afford to sit idle and wait for Silas to make his move. At the same time, the idea of provoking him any further seemed dangerously unwise.

He exhaled sharply, his gaze shifting between the two men. "I want every possible lead explored, every angle considered. If there's anything we can find—no matter how small—I want it documented, understood, and prepared."

The Director of the CIA inclined his head. "Understood, sir. We'll redouble our efforts."

The President gave a curt nod. "Good. And I expect results. I want to know who we're dealing with and what we can do to contain him."

As the two men exited the office, the President leaned back, his mind churning with dark possibilities.