Danny clenched his fists as two armed soldiers escorted him down the long corridor, his jaw tightened as he recognized where they were heading. The same room… Where Mira had murdered Becky without hesitation. His knuckles turned white as his thoughts spiraled. The Scofield twins were suffocating him from both ends, Michael pulling strings in the shadows and Mira tightening her grip from above. He felt like a pawn caught between two grandmasters. “These two are really getting on my nerves.” He thought bitterly. “Once this is over, I’m ditching all of them. I’ll go somewhere far away, somewhere none of them can find me.” The doors opened. The room was cold and sterile. The faint scent of disinfectant that never quite masked the memory of blood lingered in the air. They forced him down onto his knees. Mira sat at the far end of the room, composed as always. Her posture was elegant, one leg crossed over the other, fingers resting lightly on the armrest of her chair. She studied hi

The day of the meeting finally arrived, and Mira woke before sunrise. She rarely felt anticipation anymore. Most things in her world moved exactly as she predicted, people made choices she had already accounted for, enemies either broke or were removed, Governments hesitated exactly when she expected them to. But this morning was different, it carried weight. She stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of her chambers, watching the pale light stretch over Terra. From this height, the city looked calm, almost innocent. Smoke no longer rose in thick columns the way it once had, checkpoints remained in place, patrols still moved like clockwork. Order, at least on the surface, was presence. Her reflection stared back at her in the glass. A faint smile curved her lips. “Today…” She murmured softly, “I secure the future.” There was a knock at her door. “Enter.” Jace stepped inside, already dressed in a tailored black suit that fit him perfectly. His expression, as always, was c

Michael stepped fully into the chamber as if he belonged there. He wore a deep navy suit, tailored sharply to his frame. The fabric was understated but expensive, cut clean along the shoulders and fitted perfectly at the waist. His white shirt was crisp, collar stiff, and his tie a muted silver that caught everyone's attention just enough without drawing attention away from his face. He looked less like a rebel and more like what he had originally been meant to be. A leader. Barry followed at his side, dressed in a charcoal gray suit that contrasted with Michael’s darker tone. His jacket hung slightly heavier over his broad shoulders, built more for durability than elegance, but still refined. His black shirt underneath removed the need for a tie, giving him a harder edge. The black patch over his missing eye stood out starkly against the polished setting, a silent reminder of the war that had cost him dearly. He didn’t try to hide it, he wore it like a badge. Murmurs spread acro

The sniper rifle Adrian held wasn’t ordinary military hardware. It was an upgraded evolution of the same prototype Celia had once used to shoot at Michael back when she had been under Mira’s control. After learning that traces of Mira’s blood had once coursed through Celia’s system, Alex’s team had worked relentlessly. Before Celia completed her treatment to purge Mira’s influence, a controlled amount of that altered blood had been extracted and preserved. It carried a unique signature, an energy frequency that reacted violently against Mira’s own power. They had not been entirely certain it would work because Celia's blood was included. It was a gamble. But judging by the way Mira staggered, clutching her side as her crimson aura flickered erratically, the gamble had paid off. Michael watched from the fractured floor as Mira visibly fought against her own power. The red glow in her eyes pulsed out of rhythm, flaring, dimming, sparking like a failing current. For a second, he al

The dust hadn’t even settled when heavy footsteps pounded down the fractured corridor. Barry burst through what remained of the doorway, breathing hard. His outer suit was torn in multiple places, and there were scorch marks across his shoulders and chest. One sleeve was completely gone, revealing the sleek black battlesuit beneath. He looked wrecked but he was standing. “Michael!” He shouted as his eye locked onto his still figure on the floor. He rushed forward and dropped to one knee beside him. Up close, he saw it, the small, specialized round lodged at the side of Michael’s neck. It wasn’t a standard bullet. It was compact, reinforced, designed for precision incapacitation. Barry didn’t hesitate, he grabbed it and yanked it free in one sharp motion. The effect was immediate. Michael’s body convulsed as sensation flooded back into his limbs. He sucked in a violent breath and rolled onto his side, coughing hard as blood trickled down his collar. “What was that?!” He demanded h