Zahra moved quietly through her apartment, the faint hum of the city outside barely registering in her mind. She shed her restrictive clothing for something more practical, slipping into a fitted tactical jacket and cargo pants.
Every movement was deliberate, precise like a ritual she had performed a thousand times in training when she joined the army, though tonight was different. Tonight, the stakes were far higher. She fastened her boots, checked the ammo in her holster, and finally slung the gun onto her back. Her hands lingered for a moment on the weapon, her pulse steady but her mind racing.
Behind her, the tall, imposing figures of Aesir’s brothers, Arvid and Ji-ho, leaned against the crumbling brick exterior of the run-down building. Their eyes were sharp, scanning the dark wind
