Matthew Powell stood by the floor-to-ceiling window of the presidential suite, his silhouette a dark, imposing shadow against the neon-pulsing veins of Valor City. Below him, the city lights flickered like dying embers, a stark contrast to the cold, calculating fire burning in his eyes. He watched his own reflection in the glass—a man who had walked through the valley of death and emerged as the War God, yet here he was, worried about the safety of a sister who was a legend in her own right.
He pulled a sleek, encrypted smartphone from his pocket and dialed a number that didn't exist on any public network. The connection was instantaneous, the line crackling with the sterile silence of high-level security.
"Have you found what I asked for?" Matthew’s voice was a low rasp, carrying the we
