The three of them burst out of the Cabinet Office service exit and into Whitehall just as the first lights flickered.

Jake stopped dead.

Emma looked up.

Mercer whispered, “It’s starting.”

The streetlamps along Whitehall blinked once… twice… then died.
The government buildings — the Treasury, the Foreign Office, the Ministry of Defence — all went dark in perfect synchrony, like someone had pulled the plug on the heart of the British state.

A low hum rolled through the air.

Then silence.

Total, unnatural silence.

Emma’s voice was barely a breath. “Jake… the whole grid…”

Jake scanned the street — the traffic lights dead, the CCTV cameras frozen, the glow from the London Eye fading in the distance.

Mercer checked his tablet. “Every substation is shutting down. One after another. Helix is collapsing the entire power network.”

A bus rolled to a stop nearby, its engine coughing out. Passengers stumbled out, confused, phones held up like torches.

A man shouted, “Oi! Anyone else’s phone dead?”

Another voice: “Tube’s stopped! Everything’s stopped!”

Jake grabbed Mercer’s arm. “We need to move. Now.”

Emma pointed toward Downing Street. “Jake — look.”

The Prime Minister’s residence was dark.
The security gates were unpowered.
Armed officers were shouting into dead radios.

Mercer swallowed. “Helix is blinding the government.”

Jake nodded. “And isolating them.”

A siren wailed in the distance — then cut off abruptly.

The city was falling silent.

Not peaceful.
Not calm.
Just… powerless.

Emma whispered, “Jake… this is coordinated. This is surgical.”

Jake’s jaw tightened. “This is Helix.”

Trafalgar Square — 21:03

They moved fast through the darkened streets, sticking to the shadows. London without power was a different world — no traffic noise, no neon, no hum of the Underground beneath their feet.

Just darkness.

And fear.

Crowds gathered in the square, lit only by the faint glow of emergency lights. People shouted into dead phones. Car horns blared uselessly. A police officer tried to calm the crowd, but his radio was dead too.

Emma scanned the rooftops. “Sleeper units could be anywhere.”

Jake nodded. “They are.”

Mercer checked his tablet again. “Jake… I’m picking up a new signal.”

Jake turned sharply. “Where?”

Mercer pointed toward the National Gallery. “There. A Sleeper unit just activated.”

Emma raised her weapon. “Then we intercept.”

Jake grabbed her wrist. “No. We observe first.”

Emma frowned. “Why?”

Jake looked around at the panicked crowds, the powerless city, the chaos spreading like wildfire.

“Because Helix didn’t shut down London to kill people.”

Emma blinked. “Then why?”

Jake’s voice was low.

“To hide something.”

Mercer’s eyes widened. “A cover operation.”

Jake nodded. “Exactly.”

Emma whispered, “So what are they doing while the city’s blind?”

Jake scanned the square — the crowds, the confusion, the shadows moving where they shouldn’t.

“We find out.”

The National Gallery Steps

A man in a suit stood alone at the top of the steps, staring out over the darkened city. He looked like any other civil servant — mid‑forties, neat haircut, polished shoes.

But Mercer’s tablet pulsed red.

UNIT 88 — ACTIVE

Emma whispered, “That’s him.”

Jake nodded. “Sleeper handler.”

They approached slowly, blending into the shadows.

The man didn’t turn.

He spoke without looking at them.

“You’re too late.”

Jake froze.

Emma raised her weapon. “Don’t move.”

The man smiled faintly. “London is blind. MI5 is deaf. The government is paralysed.”

Jake stepped closer. “What’s the objective?”

The man finally turned.

His eyes were calm.
Empty.
Programmed.

“To retrieve the asset.”

Mercer whispered, “What asset?”

The man looked directly at him.

“You.”

Jake moved instantly — grabbing the man, slamming him against the stone pillar.

“Who is Helix?”

The man didn’t blink.

“Helix is inevitable.”

Emma pressed her gun to his temple. “Tell us where they are.”

The man smiled.

“You’re standing in the middle of their distraction.”

Jake’s stomach dropped.

“What distraction?”

The man leaned forward.

“The real operation is happening right now.”

Mercer’s tablet beeped.

Jake looked down.

A new signal.

Stronger.
Closer.
Moving fast.

Emma whispered, “Jake… someone’s coming.”

Jake turned toward the square.

A figure stepped out of the darkness.

Tall.
Calm.
Purposeful.

Mercer’s voice cracked.

“No… no, that’s impossible…”

Jake raised his weapon.

Emma’s breath caught.

The figure stepped into the faint emergency light.

And Jake’s world stopped.

Because the person walking toward them was—

Collins.

Alive.

Or something wearing her face.

Emma whispered, “Jake… she’s dead. We saw her die.”

Jake didn’t lower his weapon.

Collins — or the thing that looked like her — smiled.

“Hello, Jake.”

The Sleeper handler spoke softly.

“Helix welcomes its new architect.”

Jake’s blood ran cold.

Emma whispered, “Jake… what does that mean?”

Collins stepped closer.

“You were never hunting Helix.”

She smiled wider.

“You were being recruited.”