SONS OF WARS - DISTRICT III - DREAM CITY
Sakarah could hear the whispers.
She's too aggressive.
She thinks she's better than everyone.
Let's take her out early.
She didn't flinch. She didn't even blink.
Her hands moved with practiced precision as she loaded her weapon—the glocks. A strange choice to some, but her reason was simple: ammo. The glocks wouldn't win her any distance duels, and accuracy would suffer, but she had more rounds—enough to survive all 48 hours if she played it smart.
Jimbo and Goro joined her silently, tension thick between them. She didn't look at them immediately, eyes still checking the trigger tension and bullet fit.
"Why glocks?" Goro asked, watching her swap mags again.
"More rounds." Sakarah said, sliding the weapon into its holster. Then she finally turned.
"I want you to know we are not a team." Her gaze moved from Jimbo to Goro like a blade. "But we're winning this. Don't slow me down. And if you become a liability—" She loaded a final mag and snapped it in with a cold click. "I will put you down myself."
Jimbo exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw twitching.
She pointed to him. "You're aerial. Cover his back with those drones. Don't lose them."
Then to Goro. "You're sniper. Find high ground. Watch my flank."
A loud chime rang through the room.
Feline's voice returned.
"BIFIED simulation is 94.7% morphed. Environment: Urban Survival Mode. Prepare your team positions. Weapon sync in thirty seconds."
The room shifted with energy. Walls shimmered. Floors trembled. The battlefield was being born right beneath their feet.
Feline continued, her voice clinical:
"Disqualifications include: unauthorized use of Bineth power, leaving boundaries, lethal contact outside suit regulation, and sabotage of equipment. Any breach will result in immediate ejection."
Goro's confidence flared. "I don't miss. Sniper runs in my blood. Give me the target and I'll make the shot."
Sakarah stepped closer. Her eyes narrowed. "Can you hit from twelve rooftops across? Wind shear, steel barriers, and moving targets?"
Goro blinked.
She leaned in. "No? Then push yourself. Or you'll be the reason we lose. Jimbo's covering your six. You stay sharp."
Jimbo muttered, "Like a damn chess game."
Sakarah gave a thin smile. "Exactly. Every piece moves toward the flag. I'll handle the middle board."
Without waiting for a reply, she stepped away, disappearing into the gear corridor.
Jimbo watched her leave. "Can we trust her?"
Goro shrugged. "We either trust her, or she ends our game with one shot. Besides… I don't want another punch."
They both nodded. Unspoken understanding.
Elsewhere – Sakarah
She reached into her holster and removed a single round from her glock.
No reason. Just instinct. She slipped it into her pocket, separate from the others. A single bullet for something... different.
As she moved through the crowd, she felt the heat of eyes on her. Smiles that weren't kind. Murmurs that weren't friendly.
They wanted her gone.
She grinned to herself.
Let them try.
Control Room – Observation Deck
Samantha Cox stood beside John, arms folded. She didn't look at him when she spoke.
"Imagawa still thinks you don't know," she said.
John's brow furrowed. "He still thinks no one knows."
Cox tilted her head, watching the monitors. "You should see him. He's too quiet. Even called in Atsumori."
John's eyes snapped to her. "Atsumori, that serious huh?"
"Yeah," she said. "I don't like it."
He nodded slowly. "You want me to find out."
She didn't answer. She didn't need to.
"It's not an order, John," she said after a beat. "But I don't expect you to ignore it, I will be in my office." She walked away
John glanced once more at the screen—at her.
Then he turned and walked out.