The sun had risen fully by the time Celia and Barry entered the Scofield library. The room was silent except for the faint rustle of pages stirred by the morning air. Michael sat slumped over a large wooden desk, his head resting on a stack of open books. His arms were folded beneath him like he had simply given up in the middle of reading. Papers were scattered everywhere. Celia’s chest tightened at the sight. “Just how bad did things go at that meeting?” She asked quietly. “For him to be like this…” Barry swallowed. His usual confident expression was missing. “The borders are still closed. Technically, that’s a win. If things didn’t take a turn for the worse, we would’ve come home celebrating.” Celia looked at him. “What happened?” Barry hesitated. “His uncle showed up.” “Uncle?” She repeated in confusion. “Long story, we’ll talk about it later.” Barry said quickly. He walked toward Michael and gently tapped his shoulder. That single tap triggered an instant reaction. Mich

Celia’s words hung heavy in the evening air. Michael stood there, chest rising and falling, jaw tight. As much as he wanted to brush her off, to say she was overthinking, to insist he had everything under control… He couldn’t. There was truth in what she said. He turned away from her, running a hand through his hair. “I won’t let it come to that.” Celia scoffed. “Then show it to me.” She shot back. “Show me the Michael Scofield who always has everything under control.” Before he could answer, she moved, with no warning this time. Her foot slammed into his chest with sharp precision. The impact forced him back several steps, air rushed from his lungs as his boots scraped against the dirt. He looked up at her, then snickered softly. Sparring with his girlfriend was not something he would have imagined months ago. Yet here they were, throwing punches in the middle of the woods like it was normal. And strangely… It felt good. She wasn’t attacking him out of anger, she was groundin

Adrian moved fast. The moment Max delivered the news, he was already striding down the corridor toward the interrogation building, boots striking the stone floor with sharp, echoing steps. Max followed close behind, tension clear in his posture. The guards outside the building snapped to attention as Adrian passed, he didn’t slow down. Inside was filled with chaos. Danny was restraining his father near the center of the room, the older man was struggling wildly, trying to break free. A soldier stood firmly between them and the hallway that led to the interrogation room. “Stay back.” The soldier ordered, arm extended to keep them from rushing forward again. The metal door at the end of the hall stood open. Adrian’s gaze locked onto it. “That wasn’t open last night…” he muttered. Max heard him but didn’t respond. Adrian walked past the soldier without hesitation. The smell hit first, thick and metallic. The interrogation room was a mess. Blood splattered across the concrete floo

The projectile screamed toward them. Michael didn’t think. “Down!” He shouted, tackling Celia flat against the deck as the explosive struck the water just off the ferry’s starboard side. The blast detonated beneath the surface. A column of water erupted upward, crashing down over the ferry like a collapsing wall. The deck tilted violently, one of the side rails tore loose and vanished into the sea. Barry slammed into a storage crate but forced himself upright immediately, grabbing the edge of the cabin to steady himself. “We can’t take another direct hit!” He yelled. The sailor stumbled out from the cockpit, soaked but steady, eyes sharp despite the chaos. “They’re using mountain launchers!” He shouted over the wind. “Old coastal defense tubes! Probably modified!” Another gunshot cracked from the cliffs. A bullet punched through the upper frame of the cabin, splintering wood and metal. Michael crawled toward the cockpit, keeping low. “How far are we from the island?” The sailor

Michael inhaled slowly, the words struggled to come out, but they did anyway. “He said you’re not who I think you are… That I’m playing your game.” He held his father’s gaze. “What did he mean?” For a few seconds, Gerald didn’t respond. Then he lowered his head slightly and let out a soft, controlled laugh. “I can’t believe you fell for that.” He said in amusement. “That’s the oldest trick in the book, son. I’m disappointed.” He stood up from his chair and walked around the desk slowly, he calmly made way to his son. “That’s called planting doubt, Michael.” Gerald continued. “You attack the foundation. Make the son question the father, it’s basic manipulation.” He stopped in front of Michael. “You came all this way for that?” He asked. “Or did you just miss your mother and needed an excuse to come see her?” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “ Because there’s no way you’d be that gullible… Right, son?”Michael’s jaw tightened. He felt anger rising, but he kept it under con