The precinct was bustling as usual, officers milling around, handling their paperwork, running reports, and cracking jokes. The sound of phones ringing and people talking filled the air. Everything was ordinary, mundane.

And then, the door slammed open.

The sudden crash of the heavy doors echoed through the station as armed figures poured in, their boots stomping against the polished floor, their weapons aimed with deadly intent. They moved with practiced efficiency, sweeping through the lobby, overwhelming the officers on duty. Panic and confusion erupted across the room. Officers scrambled for cover, ducking behind desks and trying to draw their weapons, but the attackers were fast—too fast. Within moments, the entire precinct had been taken over, the assailants securing the entrances, controlling the exits. There was no escape.

Vee stood motionless amidst the chaos. Her eyes flickered toward the squad, then to the door, then back to the intruders. She had heard their footsteps long before they'd entered. She had felt their presence as soon as they'd walked in. They were professionals. Highly trained, well-coordinated, and deadly.

She knew this type all too well.

But she didn't move, not immediately. Instead, she blended into the background, trying to keep her presence under the radar. She wasn't sure how much the squad knew about her past—or even if they knew anything at all—but she had worked hard to bury that part of her life. The last thing she needed was to have her cover blown.

But one of the men—tall, dark-haired, with a scar running down his cheek—had been paying too much attention. His eyes scanned the room, taking in each officer carefully, his gaze lingering on Vee for just a fraction too long. It was enough.

Vee's heartbeat quickened, but she didn't flinch. She gave nothing away. Her posture remained calm, nonchalant, as if she were just another officer caught up in the chaos. But her mind was racing. She had to stay cool. Stay under control. If they recognized her, if they knew who she really was, there was no telling what they might do.

The man took a step toward her, his brow furrowing, his lips parting as if he was about to say something—about to give her away. But before he could speak, the lights in the entire building flickered, then cut out entirely.

A wave of silence washed over the precinct.

The sound of hurried footsteps, muffled voices, and the screech of chairs scraping across the floor were all drowned out by a sudden, deafening quiet. For a long moment, no one moved. No one made a sound.

And then, all at once, the air was filled with the sharp, unmistakable sound of gunfire. Rapid, violent. It echoed through the darkness, cutting through the tension in a heartbeat. The flash of gunfire illuminated the dark corners of the room for split seconds, painting the walls in bursts of light. But what followed was much worse.

The sound of gurgling. Choking. The desperate, frantic noises of men who had just realized they were too late. The air tasted metallic, thick with the scent of blood and gunpowder.

Then, as suddenly as it had gone out, the lights flickered back on.

The precinct came into sharp focus.

And the squad was frozen.

Every single one of the assassins was on the floor, their bodies crumpled and lifeless, sprawled in unnatural positions. Some lay in pools of their own blood, others had been disarmed and incapacitated in ways that made no sense. No one had heard footsteps, no one had seen who had done it—only the deafening silence of their demise.

The squad stood in stunned silence, blinking at the scene before them.

It had happened too fast, too cleanly. Too efficiently.

Vee, still standing at the center of the room, finally allowed herself to exhale, her breath shaky but controlled. Her face was calm, betraying nothing of the chaos that had just unfolded. But inside, her mind was reeling. The sudden violence, the sheer power she had unleashed—had she really just done that?

Her eyes flickered toward the squad, who was still too shocked to move. Rosa was staring at her with wide, confused eyes. Jake was the first to speak, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"What the hell just happened?"

Vee didn't answer immediately. She couldn't. Her throat was tight, her hands trembling slightly from the adrenaline. She had acted without thinking—without hesitation—and that had always been the key to surviving. But now, standing in the middle of the room, it felt like the walls were closing in. The squad had just witnessed something no one could easily forget.

"Vee..." Rosa's voice was cautious, hesitant. Her eyes were still locked on the lifeless bodies of the assassins, and Vee could feel the weight of the question hanging in the air. But there was no easy way to answer. There was no easy way to explain what they had just witnessed.

"Don't," Vee said softly, her voice cool but with an undercurrent of something dangerous. "This... this isn't something you want to talk about."

But Rosa didn't move, didn't look away. Her gaze was unwavering. "Who are you?" she asked, her voice quiet but heavy with the kind of truth only friends could demand.

Vee's chest tightened. She wanted to lie. To tell Rosa it wasn't what it seemed. To tell her she had no idea how those men had ended up on the floor. But the truth was as clear as the blood pooling around their bodies.

"They're dead because of me," Vee said, her voice soft but certain. "I did what I had to do."

Rosa took a step forward, her hand reaching out toward her friend. "Vee, you don't have to do this alone," she said gently. "You don't have to be that person anymore. You're not that person anymore."

Vee's eyes flickered briefly toward her, but she didn't respond. Instead, she took another slow breath, then looked back at the bodies strewn across the floor. Her heart still raced, but it was easier to breathe now. Easier than it had been for a long time.

"I didn't want to come back," she muttered, her voice just above a whisper. "But they forced my hand."

Rosa, still cautiously advancing, was now just a few feet away. Her voice softened, filled with concern. "We'll figure this out. Together. Just... tell us what's going on, Vee. What is all this?"

But Vee remained silent, her gaze shifting from the lifeless bodies to the door that led to the hallway beyond. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides, the tension in her shoulders betraying the storm raging within her.

"I'll talk about it when I'm ready," she said, her voice hardening, shutting down the conversation before it could go any further.

The squad stood there for a moment longer, frozen in the aftershock of what had just transpired, but Vee had already moved past them, her mind focused on something else. She couldn't afford to stay here for long. There were still questions to be answered. And someone would eventually figure out who she really was.

But for now, she would remain a mystery—just as she had always been.