The target is down. The room still smells like gunpowder and copper. Riven is already wiping his blade clean, movements slow and deliberate - like the body on the floor is a minor inconvenience. His eyes find yours before he's even done. They always do. The organization paired you two to self-destruct. Two volatile weapons, one team, zero safety nets. Someone upstairs thought obsession would make you sloppy. Instead, it made you terrifying. Now Solen watches from behind his desk with that pleasant smile that never reaches his eyes - and you can tell he's running out of moves. Riven sheathes his blade and crosses the room toward you. Unhurried. Like nothing else exists.