Beneath the City – Clinton’s Hideout.The candle had long since burned out, but Clinton didn’t need light to see the next steps. His mind was sharper in the dark. Shadows were where he thrived.Jones thought he had won.That was the beauty of it.Clinton leaned back in his chair, his fingers drumming against the armrest. Across from him, Caleb waited, hands clasped behind his back like a soldier awaiting orders. Serena stood near the entrance, arms crossed, watching Clinton with that same knowing smirk she always had.“They’re settling in,” Serena murmured.“Good,” Clinton replied.“We should move now,” Caleb urged, stepping forward. “Before they reinforce. Before they suspect.”Clinton chuckled, slow and deliberate. “No, Caleb. We move when they least expect it. They think they’ve rebuilt Blackwood. They think they’ve won. That’s when you let them get comfortable. That’s when you study them.”He leaned forward, his grin widening. “And that’s when you break them.”Serena’s smirk deepe

The walls of Blackwood seemed to close in on them. Every hallway, every corridor, every shadow whispered of betrayal.Jones sat at the head of the war room table, fingers pressed to his temples. The dim lighting cast jagged shadows across the faces of his crew, each of them battle-worn, exhausted, and on edge. The intercepted message with Lexi’s name still burned in his mind. The paranoia was getting worse. Clinton’s reach was deeper than they’d imagined.And still—no solid evidence. No names. No trail to follow.Nothing.“We’ve been chasing ghosts,” Victor muttered, arms crossed. His frustration was clear. “We know Clinton’s making moves. We know he’s in Blackwood. But every time we get close—poof. Nothing.”“Maybe we’re thinking about this wrong.” Jasmine leaned forward, her eyes sharp. “What if Clinton doesn’t need spies? What if he’s turned the whole system against us?”Jones exhaled slowly. He had considered it. The fights between recruits. The stolen supplies. The whisper campai

Blackwood College, South Wing – 3:46 AMThe silence before impact was razor-thin.Jones crouched behind a toppled desk, his breath steady despite the chaos teetering on the edge of eruption. The dimly lit corridor stretched before him, lined with abandoned lecture halls, the scent of old books mixing with the staleness of dust and danger. His team was positioned like ghosts in the shadows, weapons gripped tight, hearts pounding in sync with the tension crackling in the air.And then, Lexi’s voice came through the earpiece, sharp and urgent.“They’re in.”A beat.Jones' muscles coiled. “Victor, Jasmine—cut the exits. Mike, Lexi, push forward. No mistakes.”A chorus of confirmations came through.Then—all hell broke loose.A thunderous eruption of movement. Shadows slammed against shadows. Jones lunged forward, twisting around an attacker’s wild punch, driving his elbow into the ribs before flipping the man over with sheer force. A gasp, then silence as the body hit the tile.Shouts ran

Jones’ breath came in sharp, controlled inhales as he scanned the hallway. The walls were smeared with old graffiti, the floor littered with shattered glass, broken furniture, and the remnants of past battles. But none of that mattered.Lexi was gone.And Clinton had taken her.A slow rage burned in Jones’ chest, hotter than ever before. His fingers curled into fists as his team gathered around him, their expressions hardened by the weight of the fight ahead.Victor, blood smeared across his cheek from their last skirmish, was already cracking his knuckles, his body tense and ready. Jasmine clenched the hilt of her knife, her usual smirk gone, replaced by a deadly focus. Mike flexed his fingers around a length of chain, his knuckles white from the grip.None of them needed to speak. They all understood.This wasn’t just another battle for dominance.This was war.Jones took a slow step forward. “We’re getting Lexi back.”Victor nodded. “And Clinton?”Jones’ jaw clenched. “He doesn’t l

The weight of urgency hung over Jones like a storm cloud. Every second wasted was another second Clinton gained, another second Lexi remained in enemy hands. He shoved his phone into his pocket and met the eyes of his crew. Determination burned in their gazes. “We move now,” Jones commanded, his voice slicing through the thick tension. Victor cracked his knuckles. “About damn time.” Kendra checked her weapons. Jace tightened his gloves. Marco adjusted his jacket, his fingers twitching with anticipation. They weren’t just a group. They were an army. Jones turned to Jasmine. “You and Riley find us another way in.” She nodded, already tapping into her tablet, scanning the blueprints for overlooked passages. Riley muttered, “There’s always a backdoor. We just need to find it before Clinton buries it for good.” Jones exhaled sharply, then turned to Victor. “You hit the front with everything you’ve got. Make it look like we’re desperate.” Victor grinned, dark and eager. “I ca