Year 2, Month 10 – Solara Airspace, Midnight
Two black jets touched down without clearance.
Inside: Vatican operatives dressed in modern armor, crosses carved from obsidian, and blessed bullets packed in silk.
Lead Operative: Lucien Hale.
Codename: Ashblade.
"The Phantom isn't a man.
He's a myth made tactical.
We don't hunt him like prey…
We corner him like fire."
System Check-In: Private Smuggler Port – Dead Harbor
Check-In Complete
– Reward: $22,000
– New Skill Unlocked: "Trace Silence"
→ Cancels magical or AI tracking attempts for 3 hours after movement
Target Locked:
– Name: Baron Luc Gant
– Status: Royal Diplomatic Immunity
– Crime: Global child trafficking through "noble lineage relocation"
– Price: $2,000,000
Location: Monaco, High-Court Ball. Protection: Royal guard + supernatural escort.
Narration – Damon's Reputation Spreads
Interpol whispers he might be an AI.
Cartel kings offer money just for a sighting.
An immortal vampire prince places a bounty—not to kill, but to recruit.
He wants the Phantom… on his side.
But no one knows the face.
Not one.
Not even Lucien Hale, who studied centuries of assassin records.
"He bleeds like war.
He moves like vengeance.
He doesn't exist… but his wrath does."
Nova – Underground Signals Tracked
Nova found a black-market route in southern France.
Followed it. Quietly.
She met an arms runner who spoke of a ghost.
"Moves like smoke.
Carries a crew with silent eyes.
You see the mask…
you don't talk again."
She crushed a bottle in her hand.
"I'm close.
I swear, if I find you…
I won't let you disappear again."
The Hit – Monaco Royal Ball
Damon infiltrated as a low-tier vendor.
Used no magic.
No disguise.
Just pure shadows and timing.
He was in and out before the champagne stopped bubbling.
Baron Gant?
Found dead in a locked room.
No wound. No sound. No breach.
Just the dragon-mask card placed on his chest.
And a quote burned into the mirror:
"You touched what should never be sold.
Now you belong to the flame."
Final Scene – Solara Church Ruins
Lucien Hale stood at the altar.
Rain pouring through broken stained glass.
He dropped a file with Damon's past face—pre-evolution.
"I don't want the man.
I want what he's becoming."
In the distance, a cloaked mercenary knelt beside him.
Red eyes. Wolf-tattooed arm. Unnatural heartbeat.
"You want him hunted?" the mercenary asked.
"I don't need a name.
Just permission."
Lucien smiled.
"You'll need more than that.
You'll need a grave."