Max Slade stood at the window of his office, watching the cityscape in the pre-dawn light. The glow of neon signs flickered and danced, casting eerie shadows on the rain-slicked streets. The storm had passed, but the air still felt thick with anticipation. He knew the battle against The Broker was over, but the war for the city's soul had only just begun.
He turned back to his desk, cluttered with files and photographs. Each one a story of pain, corruption, and greed. The victory against The Broker felt hollow; the Architect's cryptic warnings haunted him. They had cut off one head, but how many more remained?
The phone rang, a harsh jolt in the quiet morning. Max picked it up, his voice gruff. "Slade."
"Max, it's Mia. You need to get to the warehouse on Fifth. Now." Her tone was urgent, no room for questions.
Max grabbed his coat and gun, heading into the gloom of the city that never truly slept.
---
