Miles away,
Inside the White House
THUMP—
The door ripped from its hinges and slammed across the floor in a scream of metal.
A guard slid in after it — bleeding, barely conscious — dragged by the leg.
"He'll live," Archangel said coldly, releasing him. The body struck the table, smearing blood across polished steel.
Ryuzaki sighed.
"Ugh."
He rose from his chair.
CLINK.
A handgun appeared in his grip.
"Don't move a muscle, you son of a bitch," Archangel growled.
Ryuzaki adjusted his tie.
"We can talk this out."
He gestured toward a chair.
"Pull one up."
"You—"
"I didn't kill your son, John."
Silence.
Archangel's grip tightened.
"How do you know that name?"
Ryuzaki smiled faintly.
"There are many things you don't know."
A pause.
Then—
"I know who killed Alex."
And he grinned.
"Your—your fucking lab did," John snarled, jaw clenched, hands shaking.
"No, John."
Ryuzaki's voice was calm. Measured.
"I didn't kill your son."
"I made him better."
"Faster."
"Stronger."
"So he could survive in this world."
"You're lying."
"You might want to see this."
Ryuzaki snapped his fingers.
A screen flickered to life.
Static.
Then—
"She's a traitor, Kael. A traitor!"
BANG.
The muzzle flash froze mid-frame.
The video cut to black.
John staggered back.
"No… this—this is fabricated."
Ryuzaki stepped closer. Close enough to whisper.
"We were trained for more than a decade, John."
"We both know what's fake."
"And what's real."
John's breathing fractured.
"Who… who's the boy who shot him?"
Ryuzaki didn't hesitate.
"Raegal's kid."
Silence collapsed.
"No. No—no—"
"I am deeply sorry for your loss, John."
Ryuzaki placed a hand gently on his shoulder.
"But I can help you with one thing."
John looked up, eyes burning.
Ryuzaki's smile sharpened.
He paused.
"I can help you kill them."