The flight to New York was a silent hell. Every minute felt like an hour as the financial market graphs ticked wildly on the co-pilot's monitor. We had succeeded in reversing the tide in the market's final hour, but Syndicate was severely wounded, and our reserve capital was drastically depleted. The North Faction had lost major momentum, but they would definitely rebound.
"Net losses of $400 billion in the last 72 hours, Cassian," Breyer reported via emergency comms. He was leading the rest of his team from London, attempting to stabilize the Asian markets following our European defense. "We successfully fended off the worst of the attack, but we're now on the brink of an internal Syndicate recession."
I stared at the screen, my eyes red from lack of sleep. I had been leading this globa
