Michael Bennett collapsed into darkness, his consciousness slowly returning. His hands were tightly bound to a chair. In front of him stood a familiar silhouette surrounded by armed men. A cold voice, one he knew all too well, broke the silence:
"Welcome, Michael. Our game has just begun… again."
The voice belonged to William Davies. And beside him stood an unexpected figure: Eleanor Davis. Her eyes were vacant, but a chilling, unnatural smile curled on her lips. A smile that didn’t belong to her.
This was the climax of betrayal, unfolding amidst a political deadlock in Washington D.C., where no party could secure a majority or reach a consensus—and the fate of a nation hung in the balance of secret battles behind the scenes.
Darkness, cold, and the sharp scent of dust assaulted Michae
