The swarm rushed toward Miles like hungry wolves finally released from chains.

Heavy footsteps shook the abandoned training ground.

Dust rose violently into the air.

Metal rods.

Knives.

Cold eyes filled with greed and violence.

All of them charging toward a single exhausted man.

Near them, Rehman Nawwar laughed loudly while blood still stained the corner of his mouth.

"Take me upstairs."

He wiped his lips slowly.

"I want a balcony view."

Armed men immediately escorted him upward toward the broken balcony overlooking the battlefield.

From there, the entire ground looked like an execution arena.

And at the center of it..

Ghost stood alone.

The first man reached him with a roar, swinging a heavy metal rod directly toward Miles’ head.

Miles moved instantly.

His body twisted sideways despite the pain screaming through his muscles.

The rod missed by inches.

At the same moment, Miles grabbed the attacker’s wrist, pulled him forward, and smashed his elbow directly into the man’s throat.

A sick choking sound escaped the attacker before Miles ripped the metal rod from his hands.

Another knife came toward his ribs.

CLANG!

The metal rod blocked it barely.

Sparks burst from the collision.

A second attacker lunged immediately from the left side.

Miles spun the rod backward violently.

CRACK!

The man’s jaw shattered instantly.

Before the body even hit the floor, another punch landed directly on Miles’ injured shoulder.

Pain exploded through his body.

His breathing staggered.

But he did not stop.

Never stopped.

The rod swung again.

One attacker collapsed.

Another screamed as Miles kicked his knee backward unnaturally.

A knife slashed across Miles’ forearm.

Blood splattered onto the dusty ground.

Yet his expression remained terrifyingly calm.

...

Inside Sterling Security’s operation room, nobody blinked.

Agents watched in stunned silence.

The body cam shook violently with every movement.

Every strike.

Every breath.

Every drop of blood.

Monica’s fingers slowly tightened around the desk edge.

Not From disbelief.

But from fear in her heart

Because even wounded...

Even exhausted...

Their boss was still fighting like a monster.

...

Inside the Citadel war room, generals stared at the live feed with widened eyes.

One officer whispered unconsciously.

"How is he still standing..."

General Victor Wraithbourne narrowed his eyes carefully.

"He is controlling the battlefield."

Another general looked shocked.

"He is outnumbered many to one."

Wraithbourne answered quietly.

"And still dominating."

The president was expressionless, his eyes stuck on the screen.

...

Back at the battlefield

Miles blocked another blade with the metal rod, then slammed the rod horizontally into a man’s ribs.

CRACK!

The attacker folded instantly.

Another rushed from behind.

Miles sensed it too late.

A chain wrapped around his neck violently.

Several men immediately tried holding him down.

"Hold him!"

"Take him down!"

The attackers shouted wildly.

Miles’ face tightened.

Veins rose across his neck.

Then suddenly

BOOM!

He slammed his head backward directly into the attacker’s nose.

The grip loosened.

Miles twisted violently and threw the chained attacker over his shoulder into two incoming men.

Bodies crashed together.

The metal rod slipped from his bloody hands.

A knife instantly rushed toward his chest.

Miles caught the wrist with bare hands.

Blood dripped down his palm as the blade slowly pressed closer.

The attacker grinned viciously.

"You’re tired now!"

Miles suddenly smiled back.

Cold.

Dangerous.

Then he headbutted the man directly in the face.

CRACK!

The nose collapsed instantly.

Miles stole the knife and stabbed upward without hesitation.

The attacker froze before collapsing lifelessly.

Heavy breathing escaped Miles now.

His body was slowing.

His wounds were increasing.

But his eyes

His eyes had become colder with every passing second.

Above the battlefield, Rehman leaned forward against the balcony railing, watching with burning fascination.

"Beautiful..."

His grin widened.

"This is the real Ghost... but for how long??"

Another group charged together.

Miles ran toward them instead of retreating.

The first knife came downward.

Miles sidestepped and sliced across the attacker’s throat.

The second swung a rod.

Miles blocked with his forearm despite the pain and punched directly into the man’s throat.

The third stabbed toward his stomach.

Miles twisted barely.

The blade pierced his side shallowly.

Blood spilled instantly.

Monica inhaled sharply inside the operation room.

"Boss..."

Miles gritted his teeth and grabbed the attacker’s collar before smashing his face repeatedly into a broken concrete pillar.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

The body dropped.

Yet more came.

And more.

Like endless waves.

...

Far away on an old rooftop

Two snipers watched through their scopes.

Sniper One adjusted his breathing carefully.

"I am ready to fire, sir."

Charles answered immediately through comms.

"Don’t shoot. He might get hurt."

Sniper Two clenched his jaw.

"Then we trim them from the sides."

His finger tightened near the trigger.

"We cannot let Boss get hurt, sir."

Charles observed the battlefield feed carefully.

"How’s visibility?"

Sniper One narrowed his scope.

"Wind and dust are affecting vision."

A pause.

"But it is still manageable."

Sniper Two spoke more firmly now.

"Sorry sir, but we have to take the shots."

Then suddenly

"Stop right there and raise your hands."

A voice echoed from behind them.

Both snipers froze instantly.

Three armed men stood several meters behind them with rifles aimed directly at their backs.

The snipers slowly raised their hands.

Their expressions darkened.

They had been found.

Inside the operation room, Charles’ eyes widened.

"Damn it."

Monica immediately looked toward Charles.

"What is happening?!"

Back on the rooftop

The armed men stepped closer confidently.

"Drop the rifles."

Sniper One slowly lowered his weapon.

But then

FWISH!

FWISH!

FWISH!

Three throwing knives suddenly came flying through the darkness at terrifying speed.

THUD!

THUD!

THUD!

All three armed men froze instantly.

One knife pierced directly through a throat.

Another buried into an eye socket.

The third sank deep into a chest.

The bodies collapsed lifelessly onto the rooftop floor.

The two snipers stared in complete shock.

"What the hell..."

Their scopes turned desperately toward the darkness surrounding the rooftop.

But nobody was there.

Only the sound of wind.

Charles’ voice burst through comms urgently.

"Do you copy?!"

Static.

Then

"What is happening there?!"

...

The fight continued.

And slowly...

The monster named Ghost began to slow down.

A man rushed from the left with a rusted knife.

Miles moved first.

Even exhausted his instincts were terrifying.

He grabbed the wrist, twisted it backward, and slammed his forehead into the attacker’s face.

Blood exploded from the man’s nose.

Miles kicked him away violently.

Another came immediately.

Then another.

Then three together.

Miles kept moving.

Punching.

Blocking.

Dodging.

Countering.

The metal rod in his hand swung heavily across a man’s jaw.

CRACK.

The body spun and collapsed.

A knife scratched across Miles’ ribs.

Another punch landed on his injured shoulder.

His breathing became rougher now.

But he still kept standing.

Above the battlefield, Rehman Nawwar watched silently now.

Even he was no longer smiling fully.

Because the man below...

Refused to fall.

An attacker screamed and charged recklessly.

Miles stepped sideways and slammed the rod directly into his stomach.

The man folded instantly.

But

THUD!

A heavy metal pipe suddenly smashed against Miles’ head from behind.

The world tilted for a second.

Inside the operation room, several agents stood up instantly.

"Boss!"

Blood slowly ran down the side of Miles’ forehead.

His vision blurred briefly.

But he still turned.

Still fought.

Still moved.

Like a broken war machine refusing to shut down.

Miles punched another man away.

His movements were slower now.

Heavier.

Another attacker rushed from the side and kicked directly into Miles’ knee.

His balance shook.

A blade pierced shallowly into his arm before he elbowed the attacker away.

Another hit landed on his back.

Then another.

And another.

The swarm had realized it.

Ghost was finally getting tired.

The battlefield slowly changed.

The attackers became bolder.

Miles’ punches were still terrifying.

But his body

His body was beginning to fail him.

Inside the Citadel war room, silence had completely taken over.

Even Maxwell was standing now with both hands pressed hard against the table.

Nobody spoke.

Nobody blinked.

They simply watched.

Watched one man carry an entire city on his shoulders.

And slowly collapse beneath its weight.

Miles blocked another rod swing.

But too late.

BANG!

Metal crashed against the side of his body.

Pain exploded through his ribs.

His breathing staggered violently.

His hand trembled.

The rod slipped from his fingers.

Another punch hit his face.

Another kick landed against his stomach.

His balance broke again.

The world spun.

Dust.

Blood.

Noise.

Everything mixing together.

Miles stepped backward slowly.

One step.

Then another.

His hands felt heavy now.

Too heavy.

Like chains were attached to them.

An attacker came screaming toward him again.

Miles tried lifting his arm

But it moved slower this time.

The punch landed across his face.

His knees almost buckled.

Inside the operation room...

Tears slowly appeared in some agents’ eyes.

Nobody hid it anymore.

Because this was no longer just a fight.

It was sacrifice.

Monica’s lips trembled slightly.

"Boss..."

Miles’ blurry vision slowly drifted upward.

And then

Faces.

He began seeing faces.

Elena smiling gently while calling him for dinner.

Daniel laughing quietly.

Little Hope jumping toward him excitedly.

"Big bro!"

Asher pulling his sleeve.

"Come watch superheroes with me!"

Timothy Sterling lying silently in that room.

Voices.

Warmth.

Home.

Family.

Things he fought for.

Miles’ legs finally gave out.

He dropped onto one knee.

The battlefield slowly became muted around him.

Voices sounded distant now.

Like echoes underwater.

Rehman suddenly burst into laughter from the balcony above.

"He is dead now!"

His laughter echoed wildly.

"HAHAHAHA!"

"Goodbye Ghost!"

Miles could barely hear him.

Everything sounded far away.

Only the voices of his loved ones remained.

Calling him.

Waiting for him.

Inside the operation room, an agent quietly wiped his eyes.

Another lowered his head.

Even hardened soldiers could not bear watching this anymore.

President Maxwell clenched the edge of the table tightly.

His knuckles turned white.

Monica stepped closer to the screen unconsciously.

"Boss..."

Her voice broke slightly.

"We will win this..."

"Boss... please..."

Miles smiled weakly.

Slowly closing his eyes.

An armed man stepped forward with a heavy metal rod raised high above his head.

The killer grinned viciously.

"This ends now!"

The rod swung downward toward Miles’ skull

Then

A thin sound echoed across the battlefield.

SHHHHK.

It was soft.

Almost too soft.

Everyone froze.

The attacker’s expression remained smiling for one second longer.

Then

His head slid cleanly off his shoulders.

THUD.

The severed head rolled across the dusty ground.

The body remained standing briefly before collapsing beside it.

Silence.

Absolute silence.

The attackers stepped backward instantly.

Fear spread across their faces.

The temperature itself felt colder suddenly.

Even the wind changed.

Above the balcony, Rehman stood up violently.

"What?!"

Inside the war room, every general froze.

President Maxwell narrowed his eyes at the screen.

"What just happened..."

Miles slowly opened his eyes again.

Blurred vision.

Dust.

Blood.

Then

A hand appeared before him.

Waiting.

Offering to pull him up.

Miles slowly looked upward.

First the robe.

Red and black flowing violently with the wind.

Then the hood.

Then the sword.

A long blade dripping fresh blood onto the ground.

Eyes filled with rage.

And finally

A smile.

Calm.

Dangerous.

Beautiful.

Miles stared for a second.

Then chuckled painfully.

"Clarissa..."

The wind suddenly changed direction completely across the battlefield.

Because she had arrived to turn everything upside down.

Clarissa.

The Clan Supreme.