Sterling Security Base – Indoor Shooting Range
The crack of gunfire echoed in the enclosed range, sharp and relentless.
Miles stood firm, feet planted, his arm raised with cold precision. The handgun bucked again and again in his grip, each round tearing into the target. His shots were not just accurate—they were punishing, each one driving into the same point until the paper shredded, the wooden frame splintering under the merciless barrage.
It wasn't practice anymore. It was release.
The final echo faded. Smoke curled from the barrel. Miles lowered the weapon slowly, chest rising and falling. His eyes softened for only a moment as he sighed, then drew in a long, controlled breath to steady himself.
From behind the safety glass, Charles had been watching. His arms folded across his chest, his sharp ex-soldier eyes locked not just on the target but on Miles himself. There was something in that expression—a weight he recognized.
