The tension in the air was suffocating. The sound of helicopters roaring overhead echoed like the last warning before chaos broke loose. Sirens screamed, and the streets of downtown Los Angeles were filled with nothing but violence.

Gunshots cracked through the air, blending with the frantic shouts of men in combat gear. Explosions lit the skyline, sending shadows across the broken city.

Inside the sprawling penthouse, Claire Montgomery stood by the window, her delicate hands gripping the edge of the curtain. Her long blonde hair cascaded down her back, glowing faintly under the moonlight. The noise of the battle below seemed distant, but she could feel it, a suffocating weight pressing against her chest.

She was watching a nightmare unfold, her heart breaking as the city she had known her entire life burned around her.

The destruction seemed endless. Blood soaked the streets, mixing with the screams of the innocent.She swallowed hard, her emerald eyes scanning the madness, but the image of death no longer fazed her. She had accepted her fate the moment she stepped into this hellhole.

"Claire, we need to move," a voice from behind her interrupted her thoughts. It was Jordan, her older brother's right-hand man. He stepped into the room, his expression dark, his eyes scanning the hallway for threats. But Claire didn't look at him. She couldn't look at anyone.

"I won't run," she whispered, her voice shaking but determined. "I won't leave."

Jordan sighed, stepping closer. "You know we can't protect you forever."

Claire turned to face him, her face pale but resolute. "I don't care anymore, Jordan. The damage is done. This... this is who we are now."

The sound of gunfire grew louder, closer, and Claire knew they were here. The enemy was inside.

The panic in Jordan's eyes was impossible to miss. "Claire, please."

She didn't respond. She moved to the piano that stood like a forgotten relic in the corner of the room. Her fingers hovered over the keys, trembling, as she began to play the first notes of a haunting melody. Beethoven's "Für Elise."

The door to the penthouse exploded open with a deafening crash. Gunfire erupted as Jordan and the other two bodyguards moved into action, their movements swift, practiced. But the violence didn't matter to Claire. Her fingers never faltered.

Another round of shots echoed, and she felt the sting of bullets tearing through her skin. Her left shoulder burned, followed by a searing pain in her side. But still, she played.

"Claire!" Jordan shouted, but the words barely registered.

She closed her eyes, the music pouring from her soul. With every note, she felt herself drifting further away, lost to the rhythm of her own despair. The sound of the battle outside had become a symphony of sorrow.

Bang! Another bodyguard fell, and the sound of the piano was drowned by the clash of gunfire.The world around her seemed to distort. Her breath became shallow, but the music never stopped. Her dress, once pristine white, was now soaked in red.

Claire's bodyguards were falling one by one, but they were relentless, fighting until their last breath.

Her eyes welled with tears, not for herself, but for them. For everything that was lost.

The last of her guards crumpled to the ground. "Claire, no!" Jordan's voice cracked as he moved to shield her, but it was too late.

"Put your hands up!" a voice commanded.

Claire's eyes fluttered open, locking with the soldiers' cold stares. They raised their weapons, but she didn't care. She gave a soft smile, her fingers still dancing over the keys.

And then the room erupted with gunfire.

The music stopped, the silence deafening. Claire's body collapsed, lifeless, her hands still resting on the keys, a final, discordant note hanging in the air. Her emerald eyes, so full of life moments before, were now empty, staring at nothing.

Her blood pooled around her, mixing with the memories of a city that no longer existed.

"At last, I'm free," her whisper was barely audible, but it was all she needed to say before the world turned to black.