POV: Arsen DragunovThe masked men came through the eastern breach before the dust from the first explosion had even settled, moving with the coordinated precision of soldiers rather than mercenaries, weapons already raised.They weren't shooting indiscriminately.Arsen registered that within seconds, some old instinct sorting the chaos into pattern even as bodies scrambled past him in every direction, his pulse a hard steady drum beneath the calm he forced onto his face. The gunmen were herding, not hunting, forcing delegates away from the main exits and toward the narrow service corridor near the west wing.A kill zone.Someone had mapped this building before tonight, and the thought landed cold and sure in his chest, underneath the noise, underneath everything."This way," Arsen shouted, grabbing the nearest delegate, a stunned southern captain frozen mid step, and shoving him toward the service corridor Sera had confirmed with him hours earlier."Not west, Kitchens, Move.""Who pu
Última actualización : 2026-07-27 Leer más