The alley behind the office was what you expect. Cracked concrete stretched between the walls.
Ava stepped out slowly as the others filtered out behind her. Drinks in hand. The quiet hunger of people who lived too close to chaos and didn't know how to put it down, even for a party.
She rolled her neck once.
[TARGET LOCKED – SHIFTER – NON-MUTANT]
[BODY TEMP: ELEVATED]
[RESPONSE TIME: TRAINED REFLEXES – MODERATE SYSTEM STRESS]
[EQUIPMENT: KEVLAR VEST / NEEDLE BLADE – BACK HIP / NERVE PATCH – LEFT WRIST]
[THREAT LEVEL: CONTROLLED – TACTICAL]
Keel stood ten feet away. Calm. Curious.
Lucas stepped up beside her, his coat brushing her shoulder as he tilted his head. "What do you see?"
Ava didn't blink. "Blade's on his back hip—concealed but not fast-access. Nerve patch on the left wrist. His stance is solid. Probably used to knives, not shocks." Her voice was steady, analytical. "If I move first, he's done."
Keel raised an eyebrow. "And if I move first?"
