Gone.
Just like that.
Silence lingers.
Heavy.
Electric.
I exhale slowly.
“Zurich,” I murmur.
Jase shifts beside me.
“You ready for round three?”
I glance at him.
Storm still fading outside.
War just beginning inside.
“Always.”
And this time—
We’re not just surviving.
We’re going after the source.
50
Mila
The storm fades to a low, steady rain.
The kind that lingers.
The kind that doesn’t let you forget what just passed through.
Inside the safehouse, Delta Five is already shifting into motion—packing gear, checking weapons, preparing for what comes next.
Zurich.
No one says it out loud again.
We don’t need to.
It’s there.
In every movement.
Every glance.
Every breath.
I step into one of the back rooms, needing a second—just one—to reset, to think, to breathe without the weight of everything pressing in.
