Chapter 175

He had tied a keffiyeh tightly around his face, the black-and-white checkered fabric covering everything but his piercing eyes, which burned with cold determination, a frozen intensity that sent a shiver down anyone who glimpsed him from the shadows. Folding the sleeves of his worn shirt up to the elbows, he had also wrapped a strip of cloth firmly around each muscular forearm, perhaps for support or to keep sweat from his grip, or maybe to anchor his strength as he moved through the chaos. Both his hands gripped a gun, fingers steady on the triggers, the weapons an extension of his unyielding will and unbroken focus.

His arms rotated with mechanical precision, sweeping left and right like a robot scanning for threats, every movement calculated and devoid of hesitation, the rhythm of his actions so natural that they seemed both human and beyond it at the same time. His steps planted firmly into the ground, deliberate and heavy, each one carrying an ultimatum to his enemies: he