The Scholar of Secrets

Vatican City – 2:17 PM

The Vatican Apostolic Archives were an enigma wrapped in stone. Nestled deep within the Vatican Library, behind layers of security, some digital, some human, all absolute, it housed the fragments of history that were never meant to be seen.

Jessica walked through the main research hall, blending in among scholars and archivists, subtly mapping the cameras, the exits, the security presence. The air carried the weight of centuries, thick with the scent of aged parchment, old ink, and dust disturbed only by the passing of time. Somewhere beneath her feet, history had been rewritten.

She stepped into a quieter alcove, away from the bustle of the main hall, and pulled out her phone.

One ring. Two.

Then Olivia’s voice, edged with equal parts exasperation and resignation. “Tell me you’re not inside the Vatican Archives.”

Jessica smirked. “Would you feel better if I lied?”

A sigh. “You don’t make it easy to keep you alive, Jess.”

Jessica’s gaze flicked to the nearest security checkpoint. Guards in navy uniforms stood by a restricted access door, watching the room with the quiet confidence of men who knew they had absolute authority.

“What do you and Leanna know about the Templars?”

A pause. The unmistakable sound of Olivia typing. “Officially?”

Jessica adjusted the strap of her bag. “Start there.”

“The Templars were disbanded in 1307. Arrested, executed, excommunicated. Their power was wiped from the map.” Olivia hesitated. “Except, not really.”

Jessica frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Their networks didn’t just vanish. They shifted underground. Some turned to banking, some integrated into secret societies. And some…” Another pause, the sound of papers shuffling, “were absorbed into early intelligence organizations. Think espionage before espionage existed.”

Jessica felt the weight of the parchment folder in her bag. The one that held her name, dated 1352.

“And Lazarus?”

Olivia exhaled. “I ran the data through Leanna’s old cross-reference system. The Vatican has sealed records that overlap with the Lazarus Project archives, same research topics, same phrases, same goddamn symbol.

Jessica’s grip on her phone tightened. “How deep does it go?”

“Deep enough that if you get caught down there, I’m not getting you out.”

Jessica smirked faintly. “Good thing I don’t plan on getting caught.”

A low groan from Olivia. “You’re going to make me drink, Jess.”

Jessica glanced toward the upper-level access checkpoint.

“Then let’s make this worth it.”

* * *

Father Allegrini was known as the scholar of secrets. Jessica found Father Marco Allegrini in a reading alcove near the restricted access corridor. He was a Jesuit priest and Scholar of ancient texts. A man who had spent decades researching documents so obscure even the Vatican’s own librarians barely knew they existed.

Jessica slid into the chair across from him. No hesitation. No small talk.

“Father Allegrini.”

He looked up, sharp eyes assessing her in an instant.

Then, without a preamble, he said: “You’re not a scholar.”

Jessica smiled faintly. “No. But I need your help.”

Allegrini set down his pen, folding his hands over the manuscript before him, “Of course you do.”

Jessica pulled out a folded printout from her bag and slid it across the desk.

A photograph of the parchment from Ponte Sant’Angelo. The one bearing her name and the date 1352. Allegrini’s gaze flicked over it, and for the briefest moment, Jessica saw something flicker across his face. Recognition. Then, like a door shutting, it was gone.

He pushed the paper back toward her. “This is not real.”

Jessica didn’t blink. “You’ve seen something like it before.”

A pause, then a sigh, “I have seen many things,” Allegrini said, “Some things are better left buried.”

Jessica leaned in slightly. “You don’t strike me as the kind of man who likes being told what’s off-limits.”

A thin smile. “No. But I am also not a fool.”

Jessica let the silence stretch. Pushing too hard would make him retreat. But hesitation? That could be used.

She reached into her bag, pulling out a second photograph. One Olivia had managed to uncover just hours ago. It was a scan of a Vatican record from 1987. A familiar sigil marked the page. The Lazarus Project emblem.

Jessica laid it next to the first. She watched his reaction.

Allegrini went still. His fingers twitched over the edge of the parchment.

Jessica spoke softly. “This wasn’t just buried. It was erased.”

A long silence, then he let out a slow breath. “If you want answers,” he murmured, “you need to go below.”

Jessica held his gaze. “Then take me.”

Allegrini exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking.”

Jessica leaned in. “I think you’ve spent years asking the same questions I have. You’ve studied the Vatican’s sealed records. You’ve seen the inconsistencies. You know something is missing.”

Allegrini’s jaw tightened. He looked over his shoulder, and replied in a whisper, “And now Foscari is dead for trying to find it.”

Jessica sat back. “Which means we’re on the right trail.”

A muscle in his cheek twitched. He glanced around the reading alcove, then lowered his voice. “Even if I wanted to take you below, I can’t. The restricted archives require special clearance. There are biometrics, keys that I don’t have.”

Jessica studied him. He was lying. Not completely. But enough.

“Then who does?”

Allegrini hesitated, Then he sighed. “Follow me.”

* * *

Allegrini led her down through a series of corridors, past uniformed guards who barely glanced their way. His presence was enough to ward off suspicion.

The final checkpoint was a heavy iron door, unmarked except for a single keycard scanner and biometric reader.

Allegrini hesitated. “This is as far as I go.”

Jessica frowned. “You got me here. You can get me further.”

A long silence. Then, reluctantly, he pulled a small keycard from his coat.

“This will get you into the lower level. But once you’re inside, you’re on your own.”

Jessica took it, fingers brushing over the Vatican seal. She had what she needed.Now, she just had to survive it. She exhaled slowly, the weight of history pressing against her.

She stepped forward. Into the dark memory of a world that already knew her name.