A Mission Failed

(Kira's POV)

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As I drove my car out of Parallel City, the skyline behind me blurred through the windshield like a smeared watercolor—bright, hot, and somehow suffocating. The storm inside me was louder than the city's noise, louder than the wind whipping against the windows or the low growl of the engine beneath me. My hands gripped the steering wheel with such force, I thought I might snap it in two. My knuckles had gone white.

My entire body vibrated with rage—not just the hot, explosive kind, but the kind that simmers under your skin, coils around your spine, and threatens to erupt in a moment of madness. It was a pressure cooker—and I was the goddamn lid.

"Fucking idiot!" I roared, slamming my fists into the steering wheel with bone-rattling force.