Valebrook – 11:59 a.m.
The city buzzed with tension.
Juliana stood across from Thorne Tower, the Syndicate's steel-and-glass monument to corruption. Ninety-eight floors of armored glass, surveillance, and murder dressed in billion-dollar suits.
Her coat rippled in the wind. Her gloves were tight. Twin pistols holstered beneath both arms. Blades sheathed across her back. Black boots laced tight for war.
"You're sure about this?" Echo's voice crackled in her comm.
"No."
"That's what makes it beautiful."
Juliana smirked once — then crossed the street.
---
12:05 p.m. – Lobby, Thorne Tower
The lobby was designed for intimidation: high ceilings, onyx walls, armed guards in discreet suits. It screamed you don't belong here. Juliana walked through the metal detectors like a ghost. They went off. Loud. The guards moved. Fast. Juliana moved faster.
Two quick shots — suppressed. One bullet in the thigh, one in the throat. A spinning kick dropped the third.
She grabbed a security badge from the corpse, stepped over the blood, and swiped herself into the main elevator. The screen blinked.
ACCESS GRANTED — FLOOR 98
"I'm coming, Thorne," she whispered. "And I'm bringing the dead with me."
---
12:11 p.m. – Floor 47
Mid-ride, the elevator screeched to a halt. Red emergency lights flashed. Juliana sighed. "Of course."
The ceiling panel blew off — two guards rappelled in, gas masks on, stun rods charged. Juliana met them mid-fall, grabbed one by the throat, slammed him into the wall. The other shocked her — hard — but she grit her teeth and drove her elbow into his ribs, then headbutted him until he dropped. Both unconscious. She hit the manual override and shot the control panel. Sparks flew. The elevator kicked back into motion.
"Forty-seven floors down. Fifty-one more to go."
---
12:24 p.m. – Floor 89
Explosions.
Juliana planted charges on the floor's power grid. When the lights went out, she moved through the chaos like lightning. Security cameras were blind. Guards ran into their own crossfire. She used shadow like a weapon — blade through spine, bullets through knees, zero hesitation. By the time she reached the penthouse floor… Sixteen men were dead.
---
12:37 p.m. – Floor 98
The elevator doors hissed open. Silence. Velvet carpet. Mahogany walls. Massive glass windows overlooking the city. Abstract art. The scent of leather and money. Juliana stepped out. Thorne was waiting. Sitting calmly behind a curved black desk, a half-glass of scotch in one hand.
"You've made quite a mess," he said, voice elegant. Cold.
"I'm just getting started."
"I liked your last broadcast. Very… theatrical."
"I'm here for Damian."
Thorne raised a brow. "He's alive. Barely. But before I let you see him—"
"You're not in charge anymore."
She raised her pistol.
"Juliana," he said slowly, "if you shoot me, my system releases a viral packet across global agencies that brands you a Class-One international terrorist."
"Already happened."
"Oh?"
She tossed a USB onto his desk.
"I hacked it before I walked in."
He chuckled. "You think you've won. You haven't even seen the real board yet."
"I don't play chess anymore."
"Then let me show you checkmate."
He pressed a button. A screen behind him flickered on.bDamian appeared. Strapped to a medical chair. Shirtless. Bloodied. Breathing hard.
"Juliana…" he gasped.
Her breath caught.
Thorne smiled. "You made him soft. He loved you."
"Still does," Damian gritted out. Juliana took one step forward. "Let him go."
"I will," Thorne said, "after you agree to a trade."
"You want Subject 10."
"No. I want you."
"Not happening."
"Then he dies."
Thorne pressed another button. The screen zoomed in. A needle descended toward Damian's neck.
---
Juliana's gun went off. The bullet punched through Thorne's shoulder. He screamed.
Juliana vaulted over the desk, slammed him to the floor, kicked the tablet from his hand.
"Where is he?!"
Thorne coughed blood. "Sub-level Omega. Locked by biometric scan."
"Yours?"
He nodded, grinning through pain.
She grabbed his wrist and dragged him.
---
12:49 p.m. – Sub-Level Omega Doors hissed open. The cell was cold. Medical. Bright lights. And in the center — Damian. Alive.
Barely. She ran to him. His lip was split. One eye swollen. But when he saw her…
"You look terrible," he rasped.
"You look worse."
She cut the straps. He collapsed into her arms, weak but alive.
"I thought you were dead," she whispered.
"So did I."
"I saw the footage. From Malaysia. You were there."
"I was your handler."
"You lied."
"I protected you."
"You watched me kill for the first time."
"I cried after."
She went still. Then— She kissed him. Blood and all.
---
12:58 p.m. – Escape
They moved fast. Echo met them at the service entrance with a black truck.
Juliana threw Thorne into the back — bleeding but breathing.
"Where are we taking him?" Echo asked.
"To the place this all started."
"The Widow Vault?"
"No."
She looked down at Damian.
"Somewhere he'll feel everything."
---
1:13 p.m. – On the Road
Damian slept in her lap. Juliana looked out the window, eyes unreadable. Thorne groaned from the floor, bound and gagged. She pressed a finger to her comm.
"Nael. Prep the Widow broadcast system."
"Why?"
"Because tomorrow,
the world sees who built the Syndicate."
She looked at Thorne.
"And they'll see how it ends."