The sterile chill of the prison gnawed at Julian as he walked through the endless gray corridors, his steps echoing ominously. The guards flanked him, their faces unreadable, but Julian’s focus was singular—he was here to end this, once and for all.
The clank of the heavy steel door jarred him back to the present. Inside the dimly lit cell sat Alastair Crane, a man once exuding dominance now reduced to a mere shadow of himself. Yet his eyes retained that familiar glint of defiance.
“Ah, Julian Grey,” Alastair drawled, his voice laced with mockery. “The golden boy himself. I must say, I didn’t expect a visit. Come to boast about how virtuous you’ve become?”
Julian stepped forward, his presence as commanding as ever. “I’m not here to gloat, Alastair. I’m here to ensure you understand the
