The corridor shook violently as another explosion rippled through the underground structure, sending dust and fragments raining from the ceiling like a storm of broken memories.Emergency lights flickered erratically, painting the narrow passage in violent shades of red and shadow that distorted every movement into something nightmarish.Finn stumbled forward under Shawn’s grip, his vision still swimming from the blow, blood warm against his mouth and chin.Behind them, the distant sounds of gunfire echoed, muffled yet relentless, as LUXON operatives clashed with resistance forces deeper within the facility.The child whimpered softly again, the sound slicing through Finn’s thoughts with merciless precision, reminding him why surrender had never been a choice.“Keep walking,” Shawn said coldly, pressing the gun harder into Finn’s back as if to emphasize ownership rather than threat.Finn clenched his jaw, forcing his legs to move despite the pain screaming through every nerve, because

The safe house was deliberately unremarkable, a quiet structure hidden among ordinary buildings where nothing about its exterior suggested protection or secrets.Finn preferred it that way, because after everything that had happened, invisibility felt safer than power or prestige ever had.The rain outside fell steadily, tapping against the reinforced windows like a patient reminder that the world continued moving regardless of personal catastrophe.Inside, the lights were dimmed, casting long shadows across clean walls that smelled faintly of disinfectant and fresh linen.Finn sat on the edge of a narrow bed, his body still aching, his mind far from rest despite the calm surroundings.The child sat beside him, knees drawn close to his chest, small fingers fidgeting nervously with the fabric of Finn’s sleeve.Neither of them spoke for a long time, because silence sometimes felt safer than words that could reopen wounds too fragile to touch.Nadia watched them quietly from across the r

The city at night no longer felt like a place Finn belonged to, but rather a battlefield that remembered his footsteps too well.Every streetlight reflected faintly against rain-damp pavement, turning familiar routes into mirrors of past mistakes and unfinished wars.Finn stood inside the armored vehicle, watching the city pass through reinforced glass, his thoughts quieter but heavier than ever before.Nadia sat across from him, checking encrypted messages with precise efficiency, her calm exterior hiding a sharpened sense of urgency.Henry occupied the front passenger seat, his body still recovering but his mind clearly refusing the same courtesy of rest.No one spoke for several minutes, because silence carried fewer risks than poorly chosen words.Finn finally broke it, his voice low but deliberate, as though each syllable had already survived internal trial.“Everything changes after this,” Finn said, not as a warning, but as an acceptance of inevitability.Nadia did not look up

The city never truly slept, but tonight its silence felt deliberate, like a held breath before something irreversible.Finn stood alone in the observation room, watching encrypted location data pulse slowly on the central screen, each coordinate representing a choice that could not be undone.Marla’s position remained static, too static, suggesting controlled containment rather than simple surveillance or opportunistic leverage.That distinction mattered, because containment implied planning, resources, and intent beyond intimidation.Nadia entered quietly, closing the reinforced door behind her without breaking Finn’s concentration.“They’ve stabilized her location,” Nadia said, keeping her voice level.Finn nodded without turning, his gaze fixed on the shifting data.“Which means they’re waiting,” Finn replied.Henry followed moments later, carrying a tablet filled with cross-referenced movement logs and communication pings.“They’re not broadcasting demands,” Henry added. “That’s n

Visibility was never neutral, and Finn understood that the moment LUXON began reacting faster than expected.The safe facility no longer felt like a refuge, but rather a temporary node in a rapidly shrinking map of safe spaces.Finn stood in the operations room, eyes fixed on the data streams scrolling relentlessly across multiple secured displays.Every fluctuation told a story, and none of them suggested retreat or hesitation from their adversaries.Nadia remained beside him, her posture calm but alert, fingers resting lightly against the edge of the console.“They’re restructuring internally,” Nadia said quietly, highlighting a shifting pattern of encrypted traffic.Finn nodded, his expression focused rather than surprised.“That means they’re preparing to sacrifice layers,” Finn replied, already anticipating the consequences.Henry entered the room with measured steps, his presence carrying the weight of new information rather than urgency.“They’ve activated regional proxies,” He