Alex leaned back in his chair, eyes locked on the tablet in his hands as numbers, graphs, and readouts scrolled past. They had taken a quick break and we're now at a cafeteria within the facility. Alex let out a low whistle before finally looking up at Michael. “You’re a freaking war machine.” He said, half amused, half unsettled. Michael didn’t smile. He wrapped both hands around his drink, took a slow sip, then set it down carefully. “It’s not enough, I can feel it.”He said quietly, gripping his drink tighter. Alex raised a brow. “Not enough?” He tapped the screen. “Your strength readings are off the charts, your endurance is borderline ridiculous, and your regeneration breaks every known rule of biology. Most people would kill to have half of what you’ve got.” “Mira still has the advantage.” Michael replied without hesitation. “She adapts faster. She hits harder when it matters. And she doesn’t hesitate.” Alex studied him for a moment, “Jeez, just how strong is she anyways?”

Michael and Alex finally gave in to exhaustion and slid down until their backs hit the wall. They sat there on the cold floor, legs stretched out, shoulders rising and falling as they caught their breath. Every few seconds, one of them would let out a slow exhale, the kind that came after pushing the body past what it thought was possible. Michael broke the silence first. “You know, the day I met Mira for the first time was on the day of my graduation…” He began, staring at the ceiling. “It was at this clothing store. There's this guy with the same name as me, he does by Mikel though… Mikel Braken, he was running his mouth. I don’t even remember what he said exactly, just that his face pissed me off. I punched him so hard he flew into a rack of clothes.” Alex turned his head, amused. “Figures.” Michael chuckled. “Then there was Charger at Neon Wears, on the same day too. He and his guys thought they could corner me. Bad idea… Knocked all of them out.” He paused, then added almost s

At the Scofield estate, the elders hurried after Mira as she walked down the long corridor, their footsteps rushed and uneven. Panic showed clearly on their faces. “Mira, stop this!” One of them pleaded. “This won’t end well. You’re pushing things too far!” She laughed, not even slowing down. The pure black leather outfit she wore clung to her frame, catching the light as she moved. She turned her head just enough to look back at them, her smile sharp. “Weren’t you the ones who made me the head of the Scofield empire?” She asked coolly. The elders fell silent. She stopped walking and fully turned to face them. “Someone is coming to threaten my position.” She continued, her voice calm but dangerous. “And you expect me to sit back and do nothing?” She scoffed and waved a hand dismissively. “Worry about yourselves. Get on the choppers and leave the estate. Better safe than sorry.” Before anyone could argue, she turned and walked away, leaving the elders standing there, shaken and

The armored vehicle screeched to a halt in front of Michael, metal grinding against broken stone as gunfire cracked through the air. The door flew open and Barry jumped out from the opposite side, rolling once before crouching beside Michael as bullets sparked against the vehicle’s armor. “Well…” He shouted over the noise, cocking his gun with a sharp click, “How’d the heart-to-heart go?” His tone was pure sarcasm. Michael let out a short breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “I guess it can’t be helped.” Barry grinned despite the chaos. “Figures. Guess this’ll be fun then.” Behind them, Michael’s forces finally reached the estate. What had been scattered clashes exploded into full-scale war. Helicopters roared overhead, trading fire with rocket launchers positioned across the grounds. Snipers took positions on rooftops and towers, muzzle flashes blinking like distant stars. Explosions shook the earth, tearing up marble paths and stone walls. The Scofield estate that was once

Barry moved slowly through the ruined halls of the estate, every step measured and every single breath controlled. The noise of the larger battle faded in and out to distant explosions, the thrum of helicopters, walls collapsing somewhere far off. But here, in this part of the building, it was quiet. Too quiet. His grip tightened on his rifle as he checked corners, his eyes scanning shadows and broken furniture. He knew Jace wouldn’t be out in the open. Then he saw him. Jace stood near a shattered window, back half-turned, casually looking out at the chaos beyond the estate grounds as if this were nothing more than a show put on for his amusement. Barry raised his rifle and aimed without hesitation. “Gotcha.” He said. Jace froze for a brief moment. Just for a second. Then he slowly turned around, hands relaxed at his sides, a familiar crooked smile on his face. “Hey there, Barry.” The sound of his voice made Barry’s jaw clench. “You bastard.” He snapped. “Why’d you do it? What d