The wind bit at their faces as the motorbike cut through the fractured landscape—dead intersections, broken buildings flanking both sides. Ava kept the throttle steady, her system pinging a faint checkpoint marker ahead.
[NOTICE: TEMPORARY BLOCKADE – MILITARY SCAN ACTIVE]
[AFFILIATION: WEST CHAIN FORWARD UNIT]
She braked instinctively, slowing the bike as the road narrowed. Up ahead, sandbags, portable drones, and a line of armored personnel stood guard beneath a half-crumbled overpass.
And in the center of it all—Elira.
She stood with her coat fluttering in the breeze, sharp blonde hair tucked behind one ear, expression neutral in that lethal socialite way. The kind of beautiful that was exotic with high cheekbones.
Lucas groaned behind Ava the moment he saw her.
"And here we go."
Ava eased the bike to a stop. Before she could speak, Elira stepped forward, heels crunching on gravel. Her tone was sweet enough to rot metal.
"Fancy seeing you here, Lucas."
