The rain hammered down like a warning, each drop striking the pavement with a fierce urgency that matched Maya's pounding heart.
She crouched behind a rusted dumpster in the alley, her breath shallow, eyes fixed on the shadowed building ahead. Inside, her target waited—the man who held answers. Answers that could shatter everything she believed in.
Her fingers tightened around the grip of her pistol, but she hesitated. Trust was a currency she no longer had. Not since Leena's betrayal. Not since the Protocol's secrets slipped through their fingers.
Maya's mind flashed back to the last words Leena whispered: This world needs to burn before it can start again. But who else was playing this deadly game?
The alley smelled of wet concrete and gasoline. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed. Time was running out.
She pushed herself to her feet, muscles coiled to strike. The door creaked open.
A tall figure stepped out, cloaked in darkness. The faint glint of a gun caught the dim light.
Maya's heart stopped.
"Jax."
The man froze.
"You don't know what you're about to walk into," Maya warned, her voice low.
Jax's eyes flickered with something—regret? Fear? Or something darker.
"Neither do you," he said, stepping toward her.
Before she could react, footsteps thundered behind. Shadows poured into the alley—enemies or allies, Maya couldn't tell.
The rain blurred everything as gunfire erupted.
Maya dove for cover.
But as the smoke cleared, Jax was gone.
And so was the Protocol.
The game was far from over.