Chapter Twenty-Seven: Hand Behind the Hunt
The city lights flickered.
Then died.
One block.
Ten blocks.
An entire skyline falling into darkness.
Rain turned black under the cloud mass forming above the ruined tower.
And every Tribunal operative stood motionless with weapons raised.
Eyes silver.
Faces empty.
Waiting.
*****
Cassandra
Her mother’s hand gripped hers so tightly it hurt.
Good.
Pain was grounding.
Real.
Because everything else felt like nightmare.
“Mom,” she whispered, the word strange and sacred at once.
Cicilia’s breath caught.
Then she squeezed harder.
“I’m here.”
Those two words nearly undid Cassandra more than any attack.
But there was no time to break.
The soldiers moved.
All at once.
*****
First Blood
Bosco fired first.
Two precise shots shatte
