The dawn broke over the city, casting long, golden shadows that stretched across the rain-slicked streets. Max Slade stood by the window of the safehouse, watching the city awaken. The light glinted off the buildings, giving them an ephemeral beauty that belied the corruption festering within their walls. Max's reflection stared back at him from the glass, a silhouette of a man who had seen too much and lost even more.
Vivian was seated at the table, a map of the city spread out before her. The lines and circles drawn on it marked their progress, their victories, and their losses. Her eyes were focused, her fingers tracing the paths they had taken, the places they still needed to go. The room was filled with the quiet hum of the city, a reminder that their work was far from over.
