Javier didn’t flinch.The red dot hovered over his chest like a heartbeat, pulsing ever so slightly as the rooftop wind shifted. But his expression remained calm—controlled in a way that made the silence in the courtyard feel like a scream waiting to break loose.Elira stepped between him and the laser in one fluid motion. “Hold your fire!” she snapped, her voice slicing through the air.A second later, the dot vanished.But Javier had already seen what he needed: a silhouette shifting behind the tiles, the faint glint of an unlicensed rifle scope. Whoever had sent that sniper hadn’t come for intimidation.They came to finish something.“Who was that?” Javier asked, voice low.“Not mine,” Elira replied quickly, spinning to face him. “I told you—I brought you here to talk. I never ordered a shot.”Javier glanced at the bleeding guard slumped against the far wall. The man was barely holding himself upright, but he nodded.“She’s telling the truth,” he rasped. “They’re not hers.”Elira’s

The moment Valeria stepped into view, time seemed to fold in on itself.The mercenary leader stiffened, his rifle still halfway raised. His men—those who hadn’t been taken out by Javier’s swift, surgical strikes—froze at the sight of her.Not because they recognized her.But because of the way she moved.Unhurried. Precise.Like someone who had walked through darker wars than this one.Javier didn’t say a word.He simply met her gaze—cool, steady, familiar—and gave the faintest nod.Valeria’s hand slid into the inner lining of her coat and withdrew something sleek, silver, and custom-built.The leader’s expression twisted. “Who—?”“Shut up,” Valeria said calmly, leveling the gun at his chest.The man bristled. “Do you even know who you’re pointing that at?”“I don’t care.”And she fired.The bullet grazed his shoulder—not a kill shot, but a warning. One that sent the other mercenaries scrambling backward, retreating into the mist with shouted curses and frantic radio calls.The leader

The courtyard was silent now, the mist evaporating into the dark. Javier stood alone as the last hovercraft lifted into the night, taking with it Dr. Caldwell’s creations—his own likeness manifested in warped flesh and steel. Stillness followed, but Javier’s breath sounded in his own ears, steady despite the storm of thoughts inside him.The signal he’d triggered had begun its work beneath the city—a pulse of pure authority resonating through every Everhart facility. It was the Orion Protocol: an activation of systems, personnel, and backup operatives planted years ago, waiting for this moment. Not violence, but a vast unwinding of power—silent, precise, devastating to those who believed power belonged to faceless corporations.Below, in an underground PoD safehouse, Heather and Malcolm were already at work. Heather’s fingers moved across encrypted consoles, isolating threats. Malcolm spoke into a comm device, his tone brisk but determined. Javier had only seconds before Caldwell’s ne

"What happened here?"The voice came from a woman in her mid-thirties, dressed in a neat burgundy blazer with a store manager’s tag pinned above her chest. She stood tall just beyond the crowd, her tone calm but firm—used to controlling chaos without raising her voice.The staff immediately turned toward her. “Manager, this man is interfering with security protocol. He’s clearly part of the theft,” said the younger guard with a scowl, gesturing toward Javier. “We’re handling it. The woman was seen near the missing necklace display, and he stepped in to distract us.”“Look at him,” the first saleswoman added, venom laced in her voice. “Same category. He doesn’t belong in a place like this. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s done this before.”The crowd murmured in agreement, their voices low but cruel.“Typical. Dress cheap, act bold.”“Two-bit scam artists.”Javier, still standing beside the frightened woman, remained silent for a moment. His hands were folded neatly in front of him, pos