The city lay sprawled beneath a blanket of twilight, its secrets hidden in the shadows cast by flickering neon lights and towering skyscrapers. Max Hastings, a man well-acquainted with the underbelly of this urban labyrinth, stood on the roof of his shabby office building, the wind whispering promises of danger and deceit. The city seemed to hold its breath, waiting for the inevitable clash that would shake its very foundations.
Max's thoughts were heavy, burdened with the knowledge that The Syndicate was closer than ever to consolidating its power. The faint scent of rain mingled with the acrid odor of exhaust fumes, creating a heady mixture that made Max's pulse quicken. Tonight was the night they had to move.
