The sniper's eyes grew wide as he kept staring through the scope.He couldn't believe what he was seeing.“Why is she… what the hell is she doing?” he whispered, shocked.His heart began to race.He saw Mrs. Evelyn now standing on the railing of the balcony. She was clearly about to jump.Confused and panicked, the sniper lifted his head from the scope.But just as he did—Tap. Tap.Two soft taps landed on his back.He froze.A cold chill crept down his spine.Slowly, with fear in his bones, he turned around.And standing right behind him… was an old man in a black coat.The sniper’s heart skipped a beat.Before he could speak—before he could even blink—SMASH!The old man delivered a fast, powerful punch right into the sniper’s face.CRACK!The sniper’s body flew back a little, then fell hard to the rooftop floor.He was knocked out cold.Not a sound. Not a word.The old man stood still, breathing calmly.It was the Prime Minister.His eyes were sharp. Cold. Empty.He slowly picked u

Marvin took a deep breath, trying to shake off the weight of the conversation with Uncle Christopher. He stood still for a moment in the private gym, the sound of his rapid heartbeat was echoing in his ears. He needed to prepare himself—funny enough he cared less about what the Prime Minister had in store for him. All he thought of was how he would confront the prime minister to get the truth from him.He wiped the sweat from his forehead and walked over to the mirror. His face was flushed from the treadmill, his muscles sore, but his mind was sharp. He couldn’t let his guard down. Not with everything that had happened, not now. After taking his bath and cleaning up his body, he walked to the small closet in the corner and grabbed a black jacket from the hanger. He tossed it on and looked at himself in the mirror for a moment longer, running a hand through his disheveled hair.His phone buzzed on the counter, cutting through the silence. He grabbed it quickly, expecting a message

"You... you..." Marvin stuttered, his voice was shaking as he took a slow step forward.His eyes were locked onto the Prime Minister. His breath was shallow, but his heart burned with rage."You manipulated me," Marvin said at last, his voice was low but firm. "I know everything. About your daughter—Patricia. About your wife’s mental struggles after Patricia's death. The depression. The hate she poured out... not just on you, but on our kind."He stopped just a few feet away from the old man, his fists were clenched so tight his knuckles turned white."You let it all happen. You used me," Marvin continued, now louder. "You knew what she was doing! You knew the root cause, the real reason why she wanted to destroy us—and all you prescribed as the solution was for her to be killed! You created her dark ideology and her hatred towards us over beings, yet you made it seem like you are the hero here, while you are the greater evil."Despite Marvin's boldness, he was very surprised at the f

Marvin’s rage boiled over.Without thinking, he stretched out both hands. More tools—heavy ones, sharp ones, long ones—rattled violently on the workbench. One by one, they rose into the air, spinning like blades of a deadly storm. Then, with a furious scream, Marvin launched them at the Prime Minister.But nothing touched him.With a calm wave of his hand, the Prime Minister’s Synapticore Force surged again. One after another, the tools froze mid-air—hovering like trapped birds.And then… they slowly floated back to their original places, gently setting down exactly where Marvin had pulled them from.Marvin’s face twisted with disbelief and frustration.He knew that the prime minister had a strong synapticore force, but seeing him exhibit speed in thwarting his efforts made him mad.He tried again. He roared and summoned even more objects from the corners of the room. Pipes, bolts, scrap metals—all lifted into the air and flew toward the Prime Minister with deadly speed.But once ag

Marvin stood there, frozen.The words of the Prime Minister echoed in his ears like a storm.His heart was heavy, his chest tight.Then, slowly, he opened his mouth.“I… I’m sorry,” Marvin said, his voice shaking. “I’m sorry for my opinion of you as a villain. I’m sorry for believing that you capitalized on your daughter’s death… for material gain.”Silence.A long, deep silence.Then—Everything around him began to fade.The broken room… the poison… Patricia’s lifeless eyes…All of it dissolved, like mist caught in a slow breeze.Marvin blinked.He was back.Back in reality.His breath rushed out—long, deep, shaky.He didn’t even realize he had been holding it in.A loud sigh escaped from his lips as he hunched forward slightly, his shoulders rising and falling.The cold was gone.The lights were steady.And in front of him, the Prime Minister stood—removing his hand gently from Marvin’s forehead.The man looked calm. Steady. Worn… but not broken.Marvin turned his head and saw his u