The revelation of the poisoned dagger did not send them into panic. It forged them into something harder, colder. The luxurious villa, once a gilded cage and then a war room, now became a fortress under siege. The air itself tasted different — metallic and sharp, like the air before a lightning strike. The neurotoxin was not just a threat; it was a statement. The rules of the game had shifted from psychological warfare to outright assassination.
The first forge was the mind. Paranoia, once a specter, became a tool. Marco instituted a lockdown protocol so severe that even the sea breeze seemed to hesitate before whispering through the balconies. Every package, every piece of mail, every ingredient for their meals was scanned, tested, and vetted by a new, terrifying array of machines that h
