Matt's head swam. The darkness of the factory seemed to close in around him, but he couldn't look away from Bishop. The man had tormented him, broken him down, but now? Now he could see the truth in Bishop's eyes: the man had always seen them as toys. Pieces on a chessboard, meant to be manipulated and discarded.
But Matt wasn't a piece anymore. Not even a pawn.
He gripped the gun tighter, feeling the cold steel against his skin. There was no room for hesitation. He had spent too much of his life fighting against his own demons, against the drug that had nearly destroyed him, against the monsters inside his head. He couldn't let Bishop turn him into another casualty. Not again.
"This ends here," Matt said, his voice surprisingly steady.
Aaron shot him a brief glance, a nod of understanding passing between them. For all the chaos, all the bloodshed, this—this was what they had been working toward.
Without another word, they moved in tandem, attacking with a ferocity born from years of living on the edge. Gunfire erupted, echoing off the factory walls as they cut through Bishop's men like a storm. Leon was a blur, his movements almost animalistic as he ripped through the crowd, taking down anyone who dared stand in their way.
But even amidst the chaos, Matt could feel it—Bishop's presence, lingering like a shadow. The man was always one step ahead. He had to be. The game wasn't over. Not yet.
Matt gritted his teeth and forced himself to move faster, pushing through the pain in his chest, the weakness in his limbs. There was no time to slow down. This fight wasn't just about survival. It was about destroying Bishop once and for all.