Ares

The hallway was a cage, every exit blocked. Every screen, every sensor, every angle monitored. Sparrow had nowhere to run, yet she moved with the precision of a predator that had spent years preparing for this moment.

Patricia signaled from the side, gun raised, eyes sharp. Atlas controlled the network feeds, cutting off digital escape routes. I stepped forward, heart hammering with rage and anticipation.

“Your vendetta ends tonight, Sparrow,” I said, voice low but firm. “No ...