Claimed by the Mafia Biker
Blade lunged, knife slicing through the empty space where it had been, but it moved with impossible speed, slipping away, unseen.
“It adapts faster than we can anticipate,” Cruz muttered, frustration creeping into his voice. “Every attack we make, it learns.”
“Then we don’t attack blindly,” Blade said. “We wait. We control every step. One misstep, one hesitation, and it’s over.”
I pressed our daughter closer, whispering reassurances. “We’ll be okay… we have to be.”
Cruz’s eyes flicked to me, fierce and unwavering. “We survive. And we learn. Every move it makes, every whisper, we remember. We prepare. One day, it won’t be a shadow anymore. We end this.”