Victor pressed the advantage on Lance. His hand darted forward in a blur, grabbing the General by the collar. "Where do you think strength comes from?" he asked rhetorically.The others watched in disbelief as Victor lifted the man off the ground with one arm and slammed him down onto the carpeted floor. The air whooshed from Lance's lungs, and he lay there gasping.The room fell silent as the laughter of the other Generals died in their throats. Valeria's green eyes narrowed, while Drew's sharp features tightened in calculation.Maverick scoffed. "That was probably a move you practiced for years to show off. Lance was the weakest link among us anyway."Victor raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? Let's see what you got."Maverick growled and stepped up next, drawing two gleaming combat knives from hidden sheaths. "Knives are my game, Mayor. Let's see if you bleed like the rest. Don't worry, I'll try not to stab you fatally."He twirled the blades expertly as his scarred face twisted into a

Ashfield Academy rallied its trainees early the next morning. Kate Harper stood at attention in the front row of the elite squad.The initial training had been a brutal filter for most, weeding out the weak and the unprepared. However, for Kate, it had been a cakewalk considering her vigilante training.From thousands of applicants, only forty-eight remained. Hardened young men and women ready to claim their place in Springfield's military police.Sergeant Harlan, a grizzled veteran with a leathery face and a gruff voice, paced before them. "Listen up, recruits!" he barked."You've survived the basics. Forty-eight of you stand here today, the best of the best. And topping the charts is Recruit Harper. She's outshone you all in every metric. If the rest of you slugs can't keep up, you'll be washing out soon enough."Kate felt a momentary flush of pride, but then remembered her purpose. She was here to infiltrate the military police and learn more about Victor Cromwell.The girl had dom

Flames rose through the alley and up the walls, but Kate was already airborne again, riding the updraft over the blast.One by one, she hunted them down. A sniper on a water tower took a shot at her, which bounced off her armor. She retaliated with a grapple line around his ankle, yanking him off the platform. He landed hard and broke his legs. She sighed, realizing she didn't even need to secure him.Kate took a shortcut through a building, constantly checking for explosives. A burly convict jumped her with a shotgun. She slid under the blast, swept his legs, and drove her foot into his gut. The man keeled over and went out cold.The last follower realized he was in for a nightmare and tried to flee towards the central silo to join his boss.Kate cut him off from the rooftops, dropping in from above. He swung a machete at her wildly, but she casually parried with her armored forearms. A quick disarm, a punch, and tip-ties ended the very short fight.Now only the Unabomber remained. K

It was barely past dawn, yet the city vibrated with an energy that felt almost electric. Springfield Presidential Hall, located not far from the Mayor's Office, was a towering structure that opened only a few times a year for Presidential events.It wasn't just a building, but a symbol, the grandest venue in the entire region, with its soaring marble columns, crystal chandeliers that could light up a small town, and a main auditorium that could seat thousands.Today, it had been transformed into something even more spectacular. Workers had labored through the night, hanging enormous banners in red, white, and blue that fluttered from every balcony.Giant LED screens lined the walls, cycling through images of American eagles, starry flags, and highlights from the country's history, as well as clips of Springfield's own military triumphs under Victor Cromwell's rule.The plaza outside was a literal carnival with food trucks offering everything from lobster rolls to gourmet burgers, stag

"That lobster roll was something else," Charles Wheeler said, settling deeper into his high-backed chair with a contented grin that lit up his whole face."I mean it. It was fresh, buttery, with that perfect crunch from the toasted bun. And don't get me started on the barbecue ribs. It was smoky, tender, and the sauce had just enough tang to make you want more. Whoever catered this knows their craft. Introduce me to your chef, I'm taking them to DC."Victor Cromwell watched him laugh from across the expansive conference table. The elite presidential conference room was a fortress of luxury, with thick carpets, walls lined with portraits of past leaders, and a massive window overlooking the plaza, where the festivities still sounded faintly in the distance."We're pleased you approved, Mr. Vice President," Victor said curtly. "It is all local talent, all of it."Charles waved a hand enthusiastically, leaning forward as if sharing a secret with old friends. "Approved? That's an understa