The Queen and Her Pawn

The soft hum of the elevator filled the small, confined space as Ethan descended into the lower levels of Luminex International. The metallic walls reflected his composed expression back at him, though his dark eyes held an intensity that betrayed his otherwise calm demeanor. In his hand was the innocuous folder Victoria had given him earlier, its contents meticulously organized but strangely pointed—each page, each chart, carefully chosen to tell a specific story. Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that the folder was a test, and every move he made in response was being scrutinized.

The doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing a dimly lit corridor that stretched into shadows. The lower levels of the building were a stark contrast to the sleek, modern design of the upper floors. Here, the walls were bare concrete, the air colder, and the fluorescent lights flickered faintly, creating a sense of isolation. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint echo of his polished shoes against the floor as he stepped out.

This was the research archive—a labyrinth of forgotten files and hidden truths. Rows of steel filing cabinets stretched endlessly on either side, their stark metallic surfaces gleaming dully under the dim lights. Ethan moved with purpose, his steps measured and deliberate. He had memorized the layout of the archives, knew exactly where to look. This wasn't a simple task; it was a calculated risk.

He stopped in front of a particular cabinet, his fingers brushing against the cold metal. Pulling a keycard from his pocket, he slid it into the reader. The green light blinked, and the lock clicked open with a soft metallic thud. Ethan opened the drawer and began rifling through the files with a practiced efficiency. Most of the folders contained outdated contracts, long-closed projects, and irrelevant memos, but he wasn't looking for those. He was searching for the ghosts of Luminex—the things the company wanted to forget but couldn't destroy.

Finally, his fingers stopped on a file labeled "Project Obsidian." A small thrill of victory coursed through him as he pulled it out, the weight of the folder heavier than he expected. Flipping it open, his eyes scanned the pages rapidly. At first glance, it appeared to be a report on experimental technology—data encryption, advanced algorithms, and something that caught his attention: "biological anomalies." The term was vague, deliberately so, but it set off alarm bells in his mind. There was something buried here, something important.

Before he could delve deeper, a sound reached his ears—the soft, distinct echo of footsteps. Ethan froze, his senses sharpening as adrenaline coursed through him. The footsteps grew louder, deliberate yet hesitant, as if the person approaching wasn't sure what they were looking for. Quickly, he slipped the folder into his jacket pocket and closed the drawer quietly, his movements fluid and precise.

"Mr. Ward?"

Ethan turned slowly, his expression composed, to find Anna standing a few feet away. Her silhouette was framed by the harsh light of the corridor behind her, and she held her ever-present clipboard tightly against her chest. Her face was a mixture of surprise and curiosity.

"Working late?" she asked, her tone light but probing.

Ethan offered her a faint smile, the kind that revealed nothing. "Just trying to stay ahead. What about you?"

Anna hesitated for a fraction of a second, her eyes flicking briefly to the cabinet behind him. "Ms. Lane asked me to pull some records for tomorrow's briefing. She likes to be thorough with her background checks."

The edge in her words wasn't lost on Ethan, but he didn't let it show. "Of course," he said smoothly. "She's nothing if not thorough."

Anna studied him for a moment, her gaze lingering just long enough to make him wonder what she might have seen. Finally, she nodded. "Well, don't stay too late. Ms. Lane prefers everyone sharp for presentations."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ethan replied, his tone polite but distant.

As Anna's footsteps retreated, Ethan exhaled quietly, his mind already racing. If Victoria had sent her to the archives at this hour, it wasn't a coincidence. She was watching him, testing him. And now Anna, who seemed far more observant than he had initially given her credit for, might have seen something she wasn't supposed to.

Back in her office, Victoria Lane sat at her desk, a glass of red wine in her hand. The muted glow of the city skyline bathed her in light, but her focus was entirely on the security feed displayed on her monitor. She watched Ethan move through the archives with precision, her sharp eyes catching every calculated motion. Her lips curved into a faint smirk as she watched him slip the folder into his pocket.

"What are you looking for, Mr. Ward?" she murmured to herself, taking a slow sip of her wine.

The soft buzz of her phone pulled her attention away from the screen. She glanced at the message—it was from her private investigator, an update on the six-month gap in Ethan's background. She opened the attachment and scanned the contents quickly.

The report was sparse but revealing: a small town in the middle of nowhere, no paper trail, no digital footprint. But there were witnesses—people who described a man matching Ethan's description asking strange, pointed questions about local legends. Legends about a curse.

Victoria set the phone down, her mind spinning with possibilities. Ethan Ward wasn't just another ambitious intern. He was chasing something, something bigger than a corporate career. And she intended to find out what it was.