Five years ago.

  The black sedan wound through Virginia countryside, its destination unmarked on any public map.

  Elias Vale sat in the back, watching through tinted windows as autumn foliage blurred past.

  Retired from fieldwork for nearly three years, the sudden summons had been unexpected.

  The manila envelope had arrived at his Montana cabin just two days prior.

  No return address, just his name printed in the same block letters used by the agency.

  Inside, a single sheet of paper with a date, time, and GPS coordinates.

  And beneath that, the old alphanumeric code that identified his former handler—a code that shouldn't still be active.

  He'd almost burned it, almost walked away.

  Three years of quiet had dulled the edge, but not his instincts.

  Something significant had happened for them to reach out this way.

  "The Farm ahead, sir," the driver announced, breaking the hour-long silence.

  CIA headquarters—though this particular facility was never acknowledged officially.

  The compound emerged from behind a hillside, deliberately unremarkable from the outside.

  A cluster of weathered buildings that could have been a literal farm if not for the subtle security measures.

  Elias had spent nine months training here, a lifetime ago.

  Before Kabul.

  Before Caracas.

  Before S?o Paulo, where he'd watched a colleague die for intelligence that ultimately proved worthless.

  Before he'd decided that some costs were too high, even for country.

  His knuckles whitened as the car stopped at the checkpoint.

  The familiar weight of the SIG Sauer P226 pressed against his ribs—old habits died hard.

  They'd let him keep it, which told him something about the nature of this visit.

  "They didn't tell me why they wanted me," he said, not expecting an answer from the stone-faced driver.

  He didn't receive one.

  The security guard approached, younger than Elias expected, probably fresh out of Langley's training program.

  The guard scanned Elias's temporary credentials with practiced indifference, but his eyes betrayed recognition.

  Elias understood—his name still circulated in training scenarios.

  Legendary in some circles, cautionary tale in others.

  "Go ahead to Building C," the guard instructed, raising the barrier arm.

  Building C housed the offices where decisions were made, where operations were planned.

  Where careers ended.

  Despite himself, Elias felt a flutter of anxiety.

  Operational instincts never truly disappeared, just went dormant.

  What did they want with a retired operative?

  He'd done his time, paid his dues in blood and memories that would never fade.

  Montana had become his refuge—a cabin surrounded by wilderness, far from the world's conflicts.

  No neighbors to question his nightmares.

  No calls in the night sending him to distant countries.

  No more blood on his hands.

  The car deposited him at Building C's entrance, a plain door beneath a green awning.

  "They're expecting you," the driver said, his only other words of the journey.

  Inside, the familiar institutional aesthetic greeted him—off-white walls, fluorescent lighting, and the faint smell of coffee.

  The security desk stood empty.

  Unusual, but not without precedent for high-clearance meetings.

  "Mr. Vale."

  Assistant Deputy Director Harlan Cole stood in the hallway, hand extended.

  Cole had been a mid-level analyst when Elias last saw him.

  The promotion suggested either competence or effective political maneuvering—sometimes indistinguishable in this world.

  Five additional years had added silver to Cole's temples and lines around his eyes.

  Intelligence work aged people prematurely—another reason Elias had walked away.

  "Been a while," Cole said, his handshake firm but not challenging.

  "Three years, two months," Elias replied. "Not that I'm counting."

  Cole's smile was thin but genuine.

  "Still precise as ever. Some things don't change."

  "Some things do," Elias countered.

  "This way, please," Cole said, changing the subject as they walked deeper into the building.

  The hallway seemed longer than Elias remembered, the lighting dimmer.

  Budget cuts or deliberate atmosphere, he couldn't tell.

  "Are you going to tell me what this is about?" Elias asked as they walked.

  Cole's expression revealed nothing.

  "The Director will explain everything."

  "Marshall is still running things?"

  Cole nodded once.

  "With an even longer leash these days."

  That was concerning.

  Director Marshall had always pushed boundaries, justified extreme measures with extreme circumstances.

  Elias had carried out some of those measures.

  They turned down a corridor Elias didn't recognize.

  The standard office doors gave way to a reinforced entrance with a biometric scanner.

  Cole placed his palm on the panel, then gestured for Elias to do the same.

  "My prints are still in the system?" Elias asked, surprised.

  "They never took you out," Cole replied, not meeting his eyes.

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  The implications of that settled uncomfortably.

  They'd always planned to bring him back.

  The heavy door opened silently, revealing a conference room unlike any Elias had seen in his previous time at the agency.

  The walls were lined with copper mesh—a Faraday cage to prevent electronic surveillance.

  The table was glass but appeared to contain embedded technology beneath its surface.

  Three people waited inside, two of whom Elias recognized instantly.

  Director Marshall, head of clandestine operations.

  Dr. Abigail Chen, the agency's chief scientific advisor.

  The third, a stern-faced man in military dress uniform with general's stars, was unfamiliar.

  "Elias Vale," Director Marshall said, not rising from his seat. "Thank you for coming."

  Marshall had aged poorly—skin sallow, eyes sunken, the toll of a decade overseeing America's darkest operations.

  Elias nodded, taking the empty chair across from them.

  "Not like I had much choice with the way your invitation was delivered."

  Marshall's smile didn't reach his eyes.

  "We both know you could have ignored it. Disappeared again if you wanted to."

  True enough.

  Elias had contingencies—new identities, offshore accounts, properties purchased through shell companies.

  Tools of the trade he'd never fully abandoned.

  "Curiosity got the better of me," Elias admitted.

  "And boredom, perhaps?" Dr. Chen suggested, her analytical gaze assessing him.

  Also true, though he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of acknowledging it.

  "Let's skip the psychological profiling," Elias said. "Why am I here?"

  The general cleared his throat.

  "Mr. Vale, I'm General William Thorne, Joint Special Operations Command."

  Military involvement suggested something beyond standard intelligence operations.

  "We have a proposition for you, but first, you need to understand what we're dealing with," Marshall said.

  Dr. Chen slid a tablet across the table.

  "What you're about to see is classified above top secret," she said, her voice carrying the slight accent of someone who learned English in British schools.

  "The people in this room represent the entirety of those cleared for this information within the U.S. government."

  Elias raised an eyebrow but took the tablet.

  The screen showed footage of what appeared to be a standard field test.

  Military proving grounds, recognizable as Fort Detrick's isolated testing range.

  Soldiers moving through an obstacle course.

  One soldier, however, seemed to flicker in and out of visibility.

  Not like conventional camouflage—more like the person was partially phasing out of existence.

  "What am I looking at?" Elias asked, unable to hide his interest.

  "The world as it actually is," Marshall replied.

  "There are anomalies, Mr. Vale," Dr. Chen explained, leaning forward. "Phenomena that defy conventional understanding of physics, biology, even reality itself."

  She tapped the tablet, changing the footage to a different scene.

  A laboratory with a sealed chamber containing what appeared to be an ordinary rock.

  Except the rock was floating, rotating in midair without any visible support.

  "We've known about isolated incidents for decades," Marshall continued. "Most dismissed as hoaxes, equipment malfunctions, or misinterpretations."

  "Area 51 bullshit," Elias suggested.

  "A convenient cover story," General Thorne replied seriously. "Ridicule is an effective method of suppressing serious inquiry."

  The general tapped the table, and a holographic display materialized above its surface.

  A global map with dozens of pulsing markers scattered across continents.

  "Each of these locations has experienced an anomalous event within the past eighteen months," Thorne explained.

  "The frequency is increasing," Dr. Chen added. "Dramatically so."

  Elias studied the map, noting clusters in conflict zones, remote wilderness areas, and several major cities.

  "And there are hostile actors already weaponizing them," Thorne continued, his voice gravel over steel.

  Marshall nodded grimly.

  "Three months ago, a terrorist cell in Yemen deployed an unexplainable weapon that killed twenty-seven people without leaving a mark on them."

  "Medical examiner said it was like their nervous systems just...forgot how to function," Cole added from where he stood by the door.

  "Last month, a Russian oligarch with known FSB connections purchased an artifact recovered from a site in Siberia," Dr. Chen said.

  "Two days later, his entire security team was found converted to glass. Molecular transformation on a scale that should be impossible."

  Marshall's expression darkened.

  "We're in an arms race where we don't understand the weapons."

  Elias set the tablet down, eyes narrowing.

  "And what does this have to do with me?"

  "We've established a new division," Marshall said. "Off the books, beyond congressional oversight."

  "Task Force EIDOLON," Chen supplied.

  "Greek for 'phantom' or 'ghost,'" Elias noted.

  Chen nodded, seemingly pleased by his recognition.

  "A team dedicated to identifying, containing, and if necessary, countering anomalous threats," the general continued.

  "We need experienced field operatives," Marshall concluded. "People who can think on their feet when the rulebook doesn't apply."

  "Because there is no rulebook for this," Chen added softly.

  Cole stepped forward, placing a thick file on the table.

  "You were always our most adaptable asset, Vale. You have a talent for improvisation that can't be taught."

  "You're saying there's more to the world than we've been told," Elias said slowly.

  "More than we understood was possible," Chen corrected.

  "More than we wanted to admit," Marshall added.

  The general leaned forward.

  "The Joint Chiefs view this as the most significant national security threat since the development of nuclear weapons."

  Heavy words from a man who didn't seem prone to exaggeration.

  Marshall slid a folder across the table, stamped with classifications Elias had never seen before.

  "This is why we called you specifically, Vale."

  Inside the folder was a technical specification document.

  "SMR-001," Elias read aloud. "Codenamed 'ShimmerSkin'?"

  Dr. Chen nodded enthusiastically.

  "My design. Part advanced technology, part...something else."

  The schematics showed what looked like a form-fitting bodysuit covered in microscopic sensor nodes.

  "A prototype stealth system capable of adaptive camouflage, enhanced sensory processing, and short-duration phase shifting," she explained.

  Elias studied the technical diagrams with growing interest.

  Molecular-level construction beyond current manufacturing capabilities.

  Power requirements that defied conventional battery limitations.

  Neural interface specifications that should be theoretically impossible.

  "How did you build this?" he asked.

  Chen and Marshall exchanged glances.

  "We didn't. Not entirely," Chen admitted. "We reverse-engineered components from recovered anomalous materials."

  "You're playing with things you don't understand," Elias observed.

  "Welcome to the cutting edge," Marshall replied without apology.

  Elias looked up sharply.

  "Phase shifting?"

  "Becoming temporarily out of sync with normal matter," she clarified, as if that explained anything.

  "It allows passage through solid objects for extremely brief periods," Thorne elaborated. "Among other capabilities."

  "It's not fully understood," the general admitted after a pause. "And not fully tested."

  "There will be drawbacks," Cole warned. "Possibly serious ones."

  "Such as?" Elias pressed.

  Dr. Chen looked uncomfortable.

  "Extended use has shown potential for neural pathway alteration."

  "Meaning?"

  "Meaning it might change how your brain processes reality," Marshall said bluntly.

  "Hallucinations? Psychosis?" Elias asked.

  "Possibly," Chen admitted. "Though our animal testing suggests something more complex."

  "More like your perception expanding beyond normal parameters," Cole suggested.

  "Or breaking entirely," Thorne added grimly.

  Marshall's gaze was steady, evaluating.

  "We need someone to field test it against actual threats."

  "Someone with your background in covert infiltration," the general added.

  "Someone who knows how to stay alive when things go wrong," Cole finished.

  Elias closed the folder, considering.

  "You're asking me to use untested, partially understood technology derived from unexplainable phenomena."

  "Yes," Marshall said simply.

  "With potentially severe mental side effects."

  "Also yes."

  "Against enemies who may possess capabilities we can't predict or counter."

  "That's the situation," Thorne confirmed.

  "Why would I agree to this?"

  Dr. Chen smiled slightly.

  "Because you're bored, Mr. Vale. Because ordinary life after what you've seen and done feels hollow."

  Marshall nodded.

  "Because you left not due to fear, but disillusionment. The work seemed pointless, the sacrifice unwarranted."

  Cole stepped closer.

  "This is different. This matters in ways nothing has before."

  The unspoken question hung in the air.

  Elias thought of his cabin in Montana.

  The silence that had become deafening.

  The purpose he'd lost.

  The endless days bleeding into each other.

  The purposelessness that had begun to eat at him.

  And now, a door to something entirely new.

  Something beyond the world he thought he knew.

  He picked up the ShimmerSkin specifications again, examining the neural interface diagrams.

  "What's the operational protocol?"

  The tension in the room eased slightly.

  "Initial deployment will be limited to reconnaissance," Marshall explained.

  "Identify anomalous objects or phenomena, document, but do not engage without explicit authorization," Thorne continued.

  "You'll have a support team, but field decisions remain at your discretion," Cole added.

  Dr. Chen pushed another tablet toward him.

  "Full medical monitoring throughout. At the first sign of adverse effects, you extract immediately."

  "And if I can't extract?" Elias asked.

  Marshall's expression was impassive.

  "Then the technology must be prevented from falling into unauthorized hands."

  Self-destruct protocols.

  Some things never changed.

  "When do I start?" Elias finally asked.

  Marshall's smile was thin but genuine this time.

  "Training begins tomorrow. First deployment in three weeks."

  Dr. Chen stood, clearly excited.

  "I'll need to take baseline measurements, neural mapping, physiological assessments."

  General Thorne extended his hand across the table.

  "Welcome to Task Force EIDOLON, Mr. Vale."

  As Elias shook the offered hand, he felt something he hadn't experienced in years.

  Anticipation.

  Purpose.

  "One condition," he said.

  Marshall raised an eyebrow.

  "I want complete mission files. Everything you know about these anomalies, no redactions, no need-to-know limitations."

  A moment of silence as the request was considered.

  "Agreed," Marshall said finally. "You can't fight what you don't understand."

  Cole led him from the room, back through the security door.

  "Are you sure about this, Elias?" he asked quietly once they were alone in the hallway.

  "No," Elias admitted. "But I'm sure about what happens if we do nothing."

  Cole nodded, understanding.

  "The world is changing. Whether we're ready or not."

  "It always was," Elias replied. "We just didn't have the eyes to see it."

  As they walked down the corridor, Elias felt an unfamiliar sensation replacing the emptiness of the past three years.

  Purpose. Direction. Challenge.

  And beneath it all, a current of unease about what he'd just committed to.

  He would be testing technology they didn't fully understand.

  Against threats they couldn't fully define.

  With consequences no one could predict.

  Tomorrow, his training would begin.

  In three weeks, he would face whatever lay beyond the veil of ordinary reality.

  "Welcome back to the game, Mr. Vale," Cole said as they reached the exit.

  Elias stepped out into the Virginia sunshine, already feeling like a different man than the one who had arrived.

  "Let's hope I remember how to play."