The panic room was a chilling enclave of silent, digital warfare. The only sounds that punctuated the tense atmosphere were the relentless hum of servers functioning at full capacity and the sporadic crackle of gunfire emanating from the speakers, a grim reminder of the violence unfolding outside. Mara leaned forward, her knuckles white as they gripped the edge of the console, her gaze locked onto the flickering monitors.

On the screens, the assault played out like a brutal, intimate ballet of ...