The city lay cloaked in the smog of deception and crime, its veins pulsing with the lifeblood of corruption. Max stood at the edge of a rooftop, the skyline stretching out before him like a jagged scar. The wind was cold, biting, whispering secrets through the steel and concrete canyons. He lit a cigarette, the ember flaring briefly in the dark, before taking a long drag and exhaling slowly. Below, the streets teemed with shadows, each one a potential threat, each corner a possible ambush.
The cabin had been a temporary sanctuary, but now they were back in the belly of the beast. The air was thick with anticipation, the calm before the storm. Max flicked his cigarette into the void, the tiny spark swallowed by the night. He turned, heading back into the building where Vivian and Elena were waiting, their faces set with grim determination.
