The mansion trembled as another explosion rocked its foundation.
Smoke poured through the hallways, curling into the air vents and wrapping itself around Emily like a suffocating shroud.
Her lungs burned as she pressed forward, refusing to be deterred. Every step carried the weight of a thousand decisions.
If she faltered now, Gustav Rook would slip through their fingers, and the Black Hand would continue to thrive.
"Catherine, Williams," Emily barked into her comms, her voice steady but firm. "Secure the lower levels.
Damien, with me. We're going after Rook."
The team split off, their footsteps swallowed by the growing din of chaos.
Emily's eyes flicked to Damien, his sharp profile illuminated by the flickering emergency lights. He gave her a curt nod, his weapon raised and ready.
"Think he's heading for an escape route?" Damien asked, his voice low but tense.