The air in the stronghold was thick with heat, smoke, and tension. Every monitor glowed with data, every shadow seemed to shift with intent, and every breath carried the weight of impending confrontation. Justina stood at the center, heart hammering, senses sharpened to every movement. The pulse of the building coursed like blood through its veins, a living testament to her mother’s legacy.

Carson was at her side, his hand brushing hers—a tether, a promise, a lifeline. Silent for minutes, ...