The rooftop wind howled against their ears, cutting across the silence left by the last sniper shot. Lin crouched near the ledge, eyes scanning the skeletal frames of neighboring buildings. The city below was not their escape—it was Jin's stage, lit with dangers that shimmered even in the darkness.
Min-joon's breathing was ragged, his hands trembling as he tried to steady himself. "We can't stay up here," he whispered, his Korean accent breaking on every syllable. "The snipers—they'll keep us pinned. We'll starve before we make a move."
Keller spat, running a gloved hand across the scar on his cheek, smearing fresh dirt. "He's right about one thing. But sitting ducks aren't my style. We go down, fast, and we hit hard." He banged his fist against the rooftop ledge, his knuckles whitening. "Enough playing this rat maze."
