The Phoenix always rises

The atmosphere in the safe house was tense, with an air of urgency and unease. The group had set up a makeshift command center in what appeared to be a small, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Davao. The room was dimly lit by a flickering fluorescent bulb, and the hum of Eka’s laptop was the only constant sound.

“Davao,” Clarissa murmured, standing by the cracked window and looking out at the distant lights of the city. “A place of contrasts—beauty and brutality. It’s always been a Syndicate hotbed, but now it feels... different.”

“Because it is different,” Eka interjected from the center table, his fingers flying over the keyboard. His holo-screen displayed a chaotic network of names, numbers, and connections. “The Syndicate’s structure is shifting. The death of Loy Xing Zhe left a power vacuum, and someone’s already filling it.”

David, standing nearby, crossed his arms. “Someone like Huang Jin,” he said grimly.