In the dimly lit room, the sound of Aryan's ragged breathing filled the air. Arisa stood motionless, the barrel of her revolver leveled squarely at Aryan's chest. Suddenly, the backup generator kicked in, bathing the room in a sinister crimson light. In that glow, Arisa looked unrecognizable.
"Arisa?" Aryan laughed, though his voice wavered. "Are you really going to pull the trigger? Don't forget, I'm the brother who raised you."
"You already collected the payment for that, Aryan," Arisa replied, her voice cold. "The moment you shook hands with the people who killed our parents. Today, there's no brotherly love—only lead and justice."
As Arisa's finger tightened on the trigger, the sound of shattering glass erupted. Abir burst through the window like a shadow from hell. His shirt was torn, his body stained with blood, but his eyes held that familiar, terrifying dominance.
"Stop, Arisa," Abir commanded. "Don't stain your hands with his filth. The right to end him belongs to me alone."
"Abir!" Aryan gasped, backing away. "You... you're still alive?"
"I've crawled back from the very hell you tried to send me to, Aryan. I've burnt your entire kingdom to the ground tonight. Your syndicate friends are in cages, and now, you are in mine."
Abir grabbed Aryan by the collar, dragging him toward the shattered window. Below lay a drop of several hundred feet into the rocky abyss.
"Arisa," Abir said, looking at her for confirmation. "Does he deserve to live?"
Arisa looked into Aryan's eyes one last time, seeing only the cowardice of a man who traded family for power. She remembered the island explosion. "Those who play in the shadows, Abir, should end in them."
Abir whispered something final into Aryan's ear before shoving him into the dark, rainy void. Aryan's last scream was swallowed by the storm.
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