Max woke to the distant hum of the city, a constant reminder of the beast that never slept. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, the memories of last night's revelations hanging over him like a dark cloud. He reached for the bottle of whiskey on his desk, but his hand paused. Today needed a clear head.
The sun was a faint suggestion behind a thick layer of smog, casting the city in a perpetual twilight. Max stood at the window, staring at the jagged skyline, his mind replaying Evelyn's words. The bombings were a diversion, a smokescreen for something far more sinister. The key players were hidden in the shadows, their puppet strings extending through the city's veins.
