The night was heavy.
Sky dark.
Wind sharp.
Silence before violence.
Then—engines roared.
---
On the Road
Rows of black motorcycles shot down the empty highway, engines echoing like thunder.
Emma was in the very front.
Her hair flowing back in the wind, mask on, eyes cold—focused.
Her posture was straight.
Calm.
Unmoving.
The leader of killers.
Beside her, Valeria drove, expression serious—Kane's arms tight around her waist.
He wasn't speaking.
He wasn't joking.
He was remembering that gang.
The one he would meet tonight.
His jaw was clenched.
His eyes were empty.
Mostang, as always, couldn't shut up—wind slamming his face, but still grinning:
"Dude, this is the most anime thing we've ever done LET'S GOOOO!!"
Celeste rode behind him, holding on lightly, expression bored.
Diana was on her bike alone as well, riding next to Emma—synchronizing speed perfectly.
Like they had ridden side by side their whole lives.
She glanced to Emma.
Emma didn't look back.
She didn't need to.
They understood each other without speaking.
---
Meanwhile: Carlo
Carlo sat in the remote hideout, screens glowing blue in the darkness.
He was hacking security grids one after another. Sweat on his forehead.
Fingers fast.
Breathing quiet.
"Cameras offline in thirty seconds… Entry routes unlocked… Street surveillance jammed…"
A low exhale:
"You guys better not die, man."
---
The Mission Begins
Ahead—
District 7.
A massive warehouse compound.
Lights on.
Guns.
Guards.
Men laughing.
Unaware of death approaching.
The wind carried the scent of rain.
Emma lifted a hand—just two fingers.
Signal.
All motorcycles slowed to a synchronized crawl.
No words.
No shouting.
Just—
silence.
Diana leaned slightly toward Emma and whispered:
"You ready?"
Emma didn't answer.
Instead—
She lifted her mask just enough for her voice to be clear.
Cold.
Quiet.
Sharp.
"…We move."
She revved the engine.
VROOOOOOOOM—
And shot forward like a bullet.
The team followed—
Six motorcycles slicing through the night.
The warehouse guards finally noticed—
"HEY— WHO THE HELL—"
Emma didn't brake.
She didn't slow.
She stood up slightly on the motorcycle—
And jumped off at full speed.
Her bike kept going—
Crashing into the gates—
BOOOOOM—
Metal exploding.
Guards thrown back.
Emma landed on her feet—
Already running.
Valeria and Diana came behind her, guns drawn.
Mostang yelled mid-jump:
"LET'S FUCKING GO—!!"
Kane's eyes burned with the rage of ten years.
The war began.
----
The battlefield was chaos
—smoke, gunfire, screaming metal, motorcycles still skidding across the ground.
But then—
A second wave appeared.
Black suits. Cold steps. No hesitation.
And at the front of them…
Roland.
Tall.
Calm.
Eyes dead like glass.
A monster in human form.
Emma's breath stopped for a moment.
She knew that silhouette.
She knew that face.
Vencor's right hand.
The man who taught her how to kill clean.
How to stab without hesitation.
How to destroy without blinking.
The ghost from her nightmares.
---
He steps forward.
Roland's footsteps echo.
Roland:
"Stand. Ready for my arrival.."
Emma's eyes sharpen—her voice low, controlled:
Emma:
"Everyone back.
We're leaving. Now."
The team froze—confusion—fear—tension.
Diana grabbed Emma's arm:
"Emma—?"
Emma didn't look away from Roland.
Emma:
"He's not like the others.
He's not someone you fight.
You run."
But—
Valeria stepped forward.
Valeria:
"I'll fight him."
Emma immediately snapped—voice sharp, louder than usual:
"NO."
"He'll kill you. Valeria—he's too strong."
Valeria didn't flinch.
She only stared at Emma with stubborn loyalty.
"You are the leader, Emma."
"You lead.
You don't risk yourself first."
Emma froze.
That sentence hit something inside her—hard.
Valeria continues:
"I'm just a soldier.
Let me buy time.
Let me protect you."
Silence.
Emma's jaw clenched.
Her hands shook—not from fear of Roland—
but from fear of losing Valeria.
But Emma…
She was a leader.
She forced herself to nod.
A small, controlled nod.
Emma:
"…We fall back. Now."
She turned—
Her team followed her instantly.
Kane, Diana, Mostang, Celeste—
they ran with her into the shadows of the broken warehouse lanes.
But Valeria stayed behind.
Standing across from Roland.
Just her.
And him.
Far enough that Emma's team wouldn't be in the blast zone if things got violent.
---
Roland finally speaks.
Voice like stone grinding.
Roland:
"So. Emma runs now."
Valeria didn't respond with words.
She simply lowered into stance.
Knife held reverse.
Leg stance tight.
Breathing controlled.
She wasn't smiling.
She wasn't trembling.
She knew she might not live.
But she refused to look weak.
Roland didn't even raise his fists at first.
He simply tilted his head.
Roland:
"You're not worth my time."
Valeria:
"…I'm not here to be worth anything."
"I'm just here to stall."
Then she charged.
---
THE FIGHT
She moved fast—faster than most trained fighters—
knife cutting through the air—
Roland blocked with two fingers.
Two.
And twisted—
sending Valeria skidding back across the asphalt.
Blood splashed from her arm.
She didn't scream.
She didn't stop.
She rushed again—lower stance—aiming for joints—tendons—weak points—
But Roland knew Emma's style.
He knew all her techniques—he trained her.
And Valeria was using Emma's combat patterns.
He countered every movement.
CRACK—
His knee slammed into her ribs.
She collapsed to one knee.
Breathing sharp.
Blood in her mouth.
But she didn't fall.
She forced herself up.
Stumbling.
Vision blurring.
Still standing.
Roland paused.
Just for one second.
A flicker—of respect.
But then—
He moved to finish her.
---
EMMA'S TEAM — HIDING A SHORT DISTANCE AWAY
Emma stopped running.
Her fists clenched.
Her breathing heavy.
Her eyes locked on the place behind them.
She couldn't hear the fight.
She didn't need to.
She knew what was happening.
Diana grabbed her shoulder:
"Emma—if you go, you'll both die."
Kane looked down, fists shaking.
Mostang was silent for once.
Celeste quietly whispered:
"…Valeria trusts you to lead."
Emma didn't respond.
She just stood there.
Heart silent. Breathing slow. Eyes cold.