The number on the immigration lawyer's screen ticked down one day at a time.
Three weeks.
Maybe four, if the paperwork dragged.
Shane leaned forward in the chair, elbows on his knees, studying the timeline like it was a roofline that didn't quite square.
Three weeks until El Toro was deported.
Three weeks to decide whether interfering was brilliant… or suicidal.
The lawyer across from him waited calmly. She was the kind of professional who understood that wealthy clients sometimes asked for strange favors as long as they paid on time.
"Three to four weeks is conservative," she said, tapping the screen with a pen. "If we file hardship extensions we can stretch that window longer."
Shane frowned.
"And how loud does that make things?"
"Very."
She folded her hands.
"Hardship filings create attention. They trigger additional review. You would be attaching your name directly to the case."
That was exactly what Shane didn't want.
He leaned back slowly.
"No attention."
The lawyer nodded immediately.
"Then we monitor quietly."
"Exactly."
"Immigration holds shift quickly. If anything changes you'll need to act fast."
"Just send updates," Shane said. "No phone calls unless something breaks."
She nodded once and closed the file.
Shane left the office with the same uneasy feeling he'd walked in with.
Helping El Toro felt like poking Apex Negativa in the eye.
But ignoring the situation felt worse.
AN had punished the man using immigration law like it was a hammer. That alone made Shane suspicious.
People who used systems that precisely usually had something to hide.
And Olaf was still the bigger mystery.
⸻
Shane climbed into the rental minivan and pulled back into traffic.
The new city still felt unfamiliar. Different roads. Different neighborhoods. Different rhythms of noise and movement.
But the structure of the company was holding.
That mattered.
He glanced at his phone.
Saul had already sent a morning update.
Work crews ahead of schedule.
Material delivery confirmed.
Silas running inspection coordination.
Ben training the new hires.
Shane smiled faintly.
Saul had always been solid.
Give that man responsibility and he turned into a machine.
Three months ago Shane would have worried constantly about leaving the original operation unattended.
Now?
Saul ran it better than Shane ever had.
Shane merged onto the highway and checked another message.
Gary.
Clean. On site. Amanda already yelling at suppliers. Think she scares them more than Sue.
Shane chuckled.
Gary was still surprised every morning he woke up sober.
But the change in him was real.
Gary wasn't just surviving anymore.
He was building something.
And Amanda was a big part of that.
Shane thought back to the arena.
Gary's awkward grin.
Amanda laughing.
Two people who knew exactly what addiction looked like deciding they wanted something better.
Shane didn't interfere with that kind of thing.
He just made sure the environment around them stayed stable enough for it to grow.
That was the whole point.
He didn't just build roofs.
He built safe harbors.
⸻
He pulled into a small coffee shop near the new job site.
It wasn't fancy.
But it had quiet tables and decent internet.
Shane ordered coffee and opened his tablet.
The financial dashboard filled the screen.
Numbers climbed.
Contracts stacked.
Equipment assets expanding.
The million-dollar contest win felt almost quaint now.
That money had been the seed.
The company itself was the engine.
Shane scrolled through payroll adjustments, vendor contracts, and expansion projections.
Everything was accelerating.
And that was when the system chimed.
A soft tone inside his mind.
Not an alert.
An awareness.
Shane froze.
He felt something… subtle.
Not danger.
Positive.
A faint resonance from somewhere across the city.
Gary.
Amanda.
The system didn't give details, but Shane knew the feeling by now.
Strong favorable conditions.
He smiled.
"Good," he muttered.
Storms had less power over people who weren't alone.
⸻
Miles away, in a sterile underground room lit by cold white lights, Apex Negativa was not smiling.
Thorne stood across the table, arms folded.
Another operative — Leo — stood stiffly near the wall.
Apex Negativa wore the borrowed body of William Dowe again, but the human disguise did nothing to hide the fury radiating beneath it.
"El Toro is gone," AN said coldly.
Leo swallowed.
"Deportation processing has begun."
AN's lip curled.
"A failure."
Thorne remained calm.
"He had the fight until the last moment."
"Until he lost," AN snapped.
The room fell silent.
Thorne spoke carefully.
"Olaf is gaining popularity from the upset."
AN turned slowly toward him.
"That was not the intended outcome."
Thorne nodded.
"But he is not yet a central figure. Public interest spikes quickly after an upset. It will fade."
AN's eyes narrowed.
"Unless someone amplifies him."
Thorne understood immediately.
"Albright."
"Yes."
AN's voice dropped to a quiet, venomous tone.
"Albright builds stability."
He began pacing slowly.
"Every job he creates… every addict he stabilizes… every immigrant he protects…"
His hand tightened.
"…that is power denied to me."
Leo shifted nervously.
"Should we eliminate him?"
Thorne shot him a glance that suggested Leo might not survive many more meetings if he kept asking simple questions.
AN shook his head.
"Too obvious."
He stopped pacing.
"Albright's strength is loyalty."
Thorne nodded.
"He builds trust."
"Which means," AN said softly, "we attack the trust."
Leo blinked.
"How?"
AN smiled.
"Temptation."
Thorne understood instantly.
"A relationship."
"Yes."
AN's smile widened.
"Albright has no emotional anchor."
"No romance."
"No vulnerability of that type."
He tapped the table lightly.
"Introduce one."
Leo frowned.
"And if it succeeds?"
AN shrugged.
"Then he begins making decisions for one person instead of the whole."
"And if it fails?"
AN's smile sharpened.
"Then the emotional fallout fractures his focus."
He turned back to Thorne.
"Meanwhile keep watching Olaf."
"Do we move an infiltrator into his team?"
"Not yet."
AN folded his hands behind his back.
"If Veritas Alpha starts pushing toward him… then we intervene."
Leo nodded nervously.
"And Albright?"
AN's voice turned cold.
"We poison the harbor."
⸻
Back in the coffee shop, Shane finished reviewing payroll.
The company was healthy.
Saul had the original crew stable.
Gary was holding the new site together.
Silas was learning faster than anyone expected.
Things were working.
Almost too well.
Shane closed the tablet and leaned back.
The quiet success of the last few months suddenly felt… fragile.
Like the calm center of a hurricane.
He didn't know exactly how AN would strike next.
But he knew something for certain.
The next battle wouldn't be about roofing contracts.
It would be about loyalty.
About trust.
About the foundations he'd built in the people around him.
And outside the coffee shop window, the city continued moving like nothing unusual was happening.
Cars passed.
People walked.
Construction cranes turned slowly against the skyline.
Normal life.
Unaware that somewhere above it all, two ancient forces were quietly preparing their next move.
And one construction company owner was standing directly in the middle of the board.
⸻
"If you enjoyed Shane's journey, please drop a Power Stone! It helps the Common Sense Party grow!"