Chapter 3 - The First Blood.
The room erupted into a symphony of gunfire and shattering crystal.
Elara dropped to the marble floor seamlessly, avoiding a volley of bullets that tore through the space she had just occupied.
Her extraction team moved with terrifying precision, taking down the syndicate's guards before they could adjust their aim.
Smoke grenades hissed, filling the penthouse with a thick, blinding gray fog.
Elara crawled behind an overturned mahogany dining table, her fingers tracing the edge of a concealed combat knife hidden in her dress.
She breathed in the scent of cordite and fear.
A syndicate enforcer stumbled through the smoke, coughing and blindly aiming his weapon.
Elara lunged from the shadows, sweeping his legs out from under him.
As he hit the floor, she drove the hilt of her knife into his temple, silencing him instantly.
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She relieved him of his sidearm, the cold metal of the gun a familiar comfort in her grip.
The hunters had officially become the hunted.
