Chapter 15: Legacy of Shadows

A.T.L.A.S. Archives, Titan Facility - Two Days Later

The deepest levels of Titan held secrets even most Level 9 agents never saw. Caspian sat in a climate-controlled vault, surrounded by decades of classified files. His bandaged ribs protested every movement, but the Emperor Eye never stopped analyzing the documents before him.

"These were sealed by Professor Valemont himself." Walter placed another box on the steel table. "Director Valemont had to authorize DNA verification just to access them."

The files inside were older than A.T.L.A.S. itself. Yellowed papers, photographs with edges crumbling, field reports written in his grandfather's precise hand. The Emperor Eye caught patterns in the documentation—certain words carefully omitted, specific details conspicuously absent.

"He was hiding something even within the classified files," Caspian observed. "Creating layers of secrecy."

"Your grandfather was... meticulous in his precautions." Walter's voice held careful neutrality. "These records of the original containment team—"

"Are incomplete." Caspian held up a photograph. Six men in military uniforms, standing before what looked like a research facility. His grandfather among them, younger but unmistakable. "Names redacted, locations obscured. He didn't want anyone tracking them."

The vault door opened. Carrie entered, carrying additional files. "Howard's personal records just arrived. Under heavy sedation, he provided access codes to his private servers."

"And father?"

"Tobias is... processing the revelations about his father's work." A slight pause. "He's reviewing the original equipment manifests. Looking for patterns in the technology developed during that period."

Caspian's Emperor Eye caught something in a requisition form. Dates that didn't match. Supply lines that led nowhere. "These equipment requests... they weren't just for containment. They were building something."

"Multiple somethings," Carrie corrected, spreading out more documents. "Research facilities across three continents. All officially decommissioned in 1946."

"Officially," Walter noted quietly.

Caspian cross-referenced locations, dates, personnel movements. The Emperor Eye assembled patterns from fragments of data. "They never shut them down. They converted them."

"To what purpose?" Carrie's question carried weight.

"Insurance." Caspian held up a coded message from 1947. "Grandfather knew whatever they found in that ice couldn't be destroyed. So he created a network of secure facilities. Places to contain things that couldn't be killed."

The implications hung heavy in the climate-controlled air. A.T.L.A.S. had been built on more than just counterintelligence and national security. It had been created to hold back something darker.

"The Russian commander," Caspian continued, "knew about these facilities. Which means—"

"We have a breach that goes back to the founding of A.T.L.A.S. itself." Carrie's voice was cold. "Someone inside the original containment team."

"Or their descendants." Caspian paused over a particular document, Emperor Eye catching subtle irregularities in the paper stock. "This report... the watermark is wrong for the period. It's a replacement."

Walter moved closer. "Someone accessed these files before us?"

"No." Caspian's fingers traced the edges of the paper. "These replacements are old. Decades old. Someone was editing the archives while Grandfather was still alive."

A photograph slipped from between the pages. Three men in a laboratory. One was his grandfather. The second was Howard, much younger. The third...

"I know him," Carrie said sharply. "That's Gregory Novak. He was A.T.L.A.S.'s first Deputy Director of Operations."

"Was?"

"Disappeared in 1965. Presumed dead in a field operation." She studied the photograph more closely. "But something's wrong with this image."

Caspian saw it too. The Emperor Eye caught the subtle signs of alteration—not with modern technology, but old-fashioned darkroom techniques. Someone had very carefully modified this photograph long before digital manipulation was possible.

"They're standing in front of equipment," he noted. "But the angles are wrong. Something was removed from the image. Something they were all looking at."

"There's more." Walter had been examining the box the files came from. "This vault section... it's numbered incorrectly. There should be another box. Series 47-B."

Carrie was already moving. "Security logs. Now."

The vault's access records showed no irregularities. No unauthorized entry. No missing files. Everything was exactly where it should be.

Which meant someone had been very, very careful.

"We need to find Novak," Caspian said quietly. "Dead or alive."

"Agreed." Carrie's heels clicked on the vault floor as she paced. "But carefully. If this breach goes as deep as we suspect..."

"We trust no one outside this room." Caspian was already mentally assembling operational parameters. "Walter, we need complete backgrounds on the original containment team. Every member, every descendant, every connection."

"And Howard's intel about the facilities?" Walter asked.

"Cross-reference with grandfather's records. Find the ones that aren't listed. The truly secret sites."

Through the vault's reinforced walls, the weight of Titan pressed down like history itself. Somewhere in these files, in these carefully edited records, lay the truth about A.T.L.A.S.'s creation. About what Professor Valemont had really been trying to contain.

And why it had cost him his life.