2025-07-11 05:56:11Ares and Mira moved like whispers through the abandoned alleyways behind the train yard. The dawn sky was bruised purple, and streetlamps still dripped pools of orange light onto broken pavement. Their breaths came in cold gasps, hearts pounding to a rhythm of war and revenge.
“They’ll be scrambling,” Mira said softly, eyes scanning the morning mist. “Bodies found, broadcast live. Hale’s men’ll be on edge.”
Ares nodded. “Exactly.” He glanced at his sister’s photo, tucked deep in his pocket - a silent vow burning in his chest. “We hit him where it hurts.”
Mira’s lips curved into a sharp smile. “You mean corridors of his own towers? Exposed pipes and dusty old wiring?”
He returned the grin. “Yes. Everything he built - ghosts in glass.”
They paused at an intersection. A lone street vendor stirred his cart of roasted nuts. He saw them, stared, then looked away. Ares watched him go - ordinary life brushing past vengeance. That tension thrilled him.
“Plan?” Mira asked.
Ares stepped to a peeling wall, pressed his ear against chipped paint. He listened to distant traffic ... to machinery humming in towers across the way. “Hale’s mainframe is in the old bank building on Carter Street. It’s protected - guards, cameras, biometric locks. But not invincible.”
Mira leaned close. “So we blind him first.”
He nodded. “Signal grid first. We plunge his surveillance. Then we ghost inside, plant the payload Cass provided. Wipe his foundation - and watch it crumble.”
She tapped her Glock. “You’ll take the roof access. I’ll handle the basement shaft.”
They crossed the street and entered a dilapidated storefront. Inside, dust hung low. Ares flicked on a tiny LED in his ear comms. Cass’s voice crackled: “You’re live on grid ninety‑three. Go dark.”
Ares keyed a small device. Streetlamps flickered and died. He glanced across the street: glow at Hale’s towers started erratic. The panic set in.
“Lights out,” he whispered. “He feels it.”
Mira slipped out the back, hood low. Ares watched her go. He pulled his hood higher, stepped into the night’s pulse. His sneakers tapped broken tiles as he circled the block, heart tuned to Cass’s whisper in his ear.
Cass’s voice returned: “He’s scrambling cameras. Security lights are failing - creds not syncing.”
Ares smiled. “Timing was perfect.”
He found the fire‑stair access at the side of the bank. The door was locked. A black keypad glowed. Ares pulled the dead batteries from his pack. He slid a bypass chip into the lock. It clicked.
He slipped inside, closed the door. His steps echoed down the stairwell, damp and narrow. His breath whispered smoke in the stale air. At each floor he paused, listened. Footsteps. Voices crackling on radios. He marked them. Six stories to the roof.
Below, Mira worked her shift from the sewer shaft. She crawled through muck and shadow, winding under the building. When she stopped, she pressed her back against a grate under the basement. Her gloves traced cold bolts. In her ear, Ares murmured: “Ten minutes to payload drop.”
She nodded so Cass’s feed would hear it. “Go time.”
Ares reached the roof. A low wall circled him in the dim morning horizon. The city’s towers glimmered beyond. He crouched, pulled the payload - a small pack covered in metallic coils and blinking LEDs - from his inner vest. He checked the timer: 07:30. He placed it under the roof’s central vent array.
He hit a remote switch. A slow hum began. The coils glowed red. Cameras around the city grid began to freeze, then glitch. Light strobes, video feed fractures ... and then darkness.
Cass’s voice burst: “Signal down. Cameras are fried. He’s blind.”
Ares exhaled. He moved toward the roof’s hatch before guards swarmed the top floor. Below him, men in black rushed the stairs.
“On me,” he whispered into his comm link. He climbed down as lamps below exploded in sick yellow sparks, snowing plaster and wiring.
Mira emerged in the basement. She ignored the flicker of guard flashlights shining through the shuddering walls. She slid inside a tunnel under the server room. She set up the drive Cass gave him. She placed it near the mainframe block.
Cass’s voice: “Broadcast timer at 04:12.”
Mira pulled a data inject cable. She slipped it into the drive slot. Upload began. Green lights blinked, slow and methodical. Her jaw clenched.
Down the stairwell from the roof, Ares rushed, boots drumming and bottle rockets of electricity arcing through broken lights. Each stair rung rattled. He reached the basement door, kicked it open. Sparks filled the air.
Mira looked up. She nodded. Ares dropped beside her. She handed him the remote.
“Kill switch?” he mouthed.
She squeezed it. “Now.”
He pressed it. The upload halted - files locked in. The drive hummed.
Cass’s voice came through: “Payload secure. You’ve got five minutes to exit before it goes live.”
They shared a glance. Fear and fire etched on both faces. They moved fast.
They climbed back to a service hatch. Guards burst into the basement with weapons drawn - shouts ricocheting off concrete. Ares raised the drive and remote.
He shouted: “We won.” And with two quick steps, he punched the hatch shut behind them and jumped down.
Mira slid beside him, wiry and fast. They sprinted through tunnels - water echoed, boots slapped.
Behind them came the roar of alarms and footsteps. They crossed under streets, climbed old brick vents. Senior grid panels flickered as the payload rippled across the city's network. The screens in tower lobbies glitched. Sirens followed.
They reached a manhole ladder between two dry fountains. Ares kicked it open. They climbed. Water stayed frozen in the air. At the top, Mira shot the hatch closed behind them.
They ran down empty sidewalks. Dawn light stretched across cracked stone.
Ares looked at the drive. “It’s done.”
Mira exhaled. “He’s exposed. Now it goes red.”
He stared at Hale’s towers ahead, shimmering with chaos rippling through electronic veins. “Next,” he said. “We take it all.”
They stepped into the city’s breath - wind, glass, glass smudged with truth. The storm rose in their hearts again.
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FIRE BENEATH THE RAIN
And with that, Ares Kane turned and walked back into the storm - unbroken, unafraid, reborn.The wind clawed at his coat as he descended the tower stairwell, boots hammering against the metal steps. The air was thick with smoke, sirens wailing from below. Somewhere deep inside the building, fire had taken hold—licking through the lower floors like a living thing.Hawk’s voice crackled faintly through the comm. “Boss! You alive?”“Alive enough,” Ares said, his breath rough.“Good. Because the whole building’s coming down. You might wanna move.”Ares pushed through the stairwell door and entered the burning lobby. Flames licked the marble walls, casting everything in blood-orange light. Hawk crouched behind an overturned table, rifle smoking, his grin wild. Reyes leaned against a pillar, his arm bleeding through the fresh bandage.Ares strode toward them, his silhouette hard in the firelight. “Wu’s done.”Hawk whistled. “You mean - ”“Dead,” Ares said flatly. “It’s over.”Reyes let out
THE FLOOD BREAKS
The storm had cracked open wider. And Ares Kane stood at its eye, unyielding, waiting for the flood.Rain began to fall again, washing over the rubble, softening the edges of what war had broken. Lin City slept uneasy beneath the storm’s weight - half fearing him, half praying for him. Ares didn’t move. His eyes tracked the skyline where the Syndicate Tower glowed faintly in the distance, a pillar of arrogance against a dying sky.Footsteps approached from behind. Hawk’s voice broke the silence. “They’re talking about you again. Half the slums want to sell your head. The other half would follow you into hell.”Ares didn’t turn. “Then hell has a crowd.”Hawk let out a rough laugh. “Wu’s tightening the noose. He’s calling bounty hunters from the outer zones - mercenaries, killers, the desperate kind.”“How long?”“Two days. Maybe less.”Ares nodded once. “Then we end it before they arrive.”Hawk blinked. “End it how?”“Wu,” Ares said flatly. “We cut out the heart.”Behind them, Reyes li
THE BOUNTY OF BLOOD
Chapter 200 – The Bounty of BloodAres stood where the wall had broken. Night clung to him, thick and heavy, the smell of ash still rising from the charred barricades. He hadn’t moved since dusk, hadn’t spoken since Hawk delivered the news. His shadow stretched long across the rubble, a sentinel carved from blood and silence.Behind him, the Hall slept in uneasy quiet. Mira lay curled beside Elijah, her arm thrown over their son as though her body alone could shield him from the world. Every time Elijah shifted, Mira stirred. Her eyes never fully closed.Ares heard it all - the boy’s shallow breaths, Mira’s restless murmurs, the groan of the wounded in the next room. Every sound pressed into him like weight. He could carry steel. He could carry war. But this weight - the fragile weight of those who trusted him—was different.The poster Hawk had dropped earlier still crumpled in his pocket. Ares drew it out now, unfolding it with hands that trembled not from fear but from rage. His nam
ASHES IN THE MORNING
The hall still smelled of smoke and blood.Bodies lay in broken heaps near the threshold, boots sticking out from rubble, fingers curled stiff around rusted weapons. The floor was slick where dust mixed with blood, a dark paste clinging to boots. The air trembled with the silence that always followed slaughter - the silence of men who had survived against numbers that should have crushed them.Ares stood in the middle of it all.His knuckles were raw, split open, crimson streaks dripping to the floor. His shirt was torn at the shoulder, streaked with soot and blood that wasn’t all his own. Every muscle screamed for rest, but his eyes - those eyes still burned like fire had been poured into them.Hawk leaned against the broken wall, laughing through shallow breaths. “Not bad, Kane. Almost makes me glad I didn’t sleep in this morning.”Reyes sat slumped against the barricade, face gray, shirt darkened by a wound across his ribs. He pressed his hand against it, jaw tight, refusing to com
THE SIEGE AT DAWN
Dawn was coming. So were they.The first light broke pale over Lin City’s jagged skyline, painting broken roofs and cracked windows in sickly gold. The Resistance Hall stood silent, its old bricks holding their breath. Inside, no one slept.Ares stood at the window of Elijah’s room, watching the horizon as though it might reveal the shape of his enemies. His reflection stared back at him in the glass - lined, weary, but carved with something unbreakable. Behind him, Elijah stirred in his sleep, murmuring nonsense words of a child not yet old enough to understand the war closing around him.Mira was already awake. She had not left Elijah’s side all night. Her eyes found Ares’s back, and she whispered, “How many?”“Enough,” he said without turning. “Too many, if we wait. Not enough, if we’re ready.”Her voice cracked. “That isn’t an answer.”“It’s the only one I have.”...Downstairs, Hawk slammed a crate onto the table, spilling rifles, battered magazines, and grenades that looked olde
WHISPERS BEFORE DAWN
For him, for Mira, for the promise he had carved into the bones of the city - Ares Kane would stand unyielding, no matter how many enemies filled the dark.But the dark did not sleep.After Chen Guo vanished into the alleys with his mocking grin, the street seemed emptier, though the smell of blood still clung to the wet stones. Ares didn’t move at once. His pulse was steady, but his mind carried the weight of what had just been declared. War - loud, public, unavoidable.Reyes holstered his pistol with a grunt. “That wasn’t just a warning. That was a leash being slipped.”“I know.”“Then why don’t you look more rattled?”Ares turned his head toward him. His eyes were calm, almost too calm. “Because being rattled won’t keep my son safe.”Reyes studied him for a long second, then shook his head as if cursing quietly at the stubbornness. “You’re still the same boy I pulled out of the desert years ago. Reckless. Proud.”“Maybe,” Ares murmured. “But this time, I’m not fighting for a flag o
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