The estate in the mountains of South Terrinvale was remote, secured, and ice-cold under drone surveillance. Hidden within was a family suspected of selling black-market tech secrets to Rovarn Corp, a rogue foreign defense conglomerate.
Max arrived by foot. No car. No backup. Just her coat, her knife, her trigger, and her certainty.
The bomb went in easily.
Too easily.
She walked out and stood in front of the main gate, dead still under the dark sky.
She knew.
The trap was already set.
Snipers moved in. At least twelve. Some from Rovarn, others from Obsidian Black Ops.
Their target?
Her.
She'd become too dangerous. Too informed. Too independent.
Max didn't fight.
She stood at the center of the clearing, lifted her left hand, and pressed a button embedded in the side of her obsidian-plated ring.
A trigger.
Hidden deep beneath the estate was a central data node one she had personally rewired. It housed every scrap of intelligence she'd gathered over the years. Secret projects. Blackmail files. Nuclear codes. Organization names.
It all lit up.
Then exploded.
The data they'd killed for?
Destroyed.
She turned to face the bullets as they came.
One ripped through her chest.
Another cracked her ribs.
And still, she laughed low, unhinged, like a beast breaking free for the first and final time.
Even dying, she won.
Even bleeding, she made them burn.
Because even when the Organization thought they were done with her…
She ended them.