The rain in Monterio did not fall so much as it drowned the city, a relentless, grey curtain that turned the neon lights of the high-rises into blurred, weeping sores. In the heart of the Military District, the atmosphere was different. Here, the air was conditioned, filtered, and silent, save for the hum of high-level encryption servers.
Dante stood by the floor-to-ceiling glass of the command center where everyone thinks Enzo is king, his reflection a sharp, dark silhouette against the flickering city below.
He was no longer the man who lived in a modest apartment with Emilia, playing the role of the quiet, reformed husband. Tonight, he was the Dragon General, and the shadows of his past were finally catching up to the light.
Behind him, the heavy pneumatic doors hissed open. Genera
