Chapter 30. Sabotage Fallout

The newsroom after midnight had its own weather.

Cold air hummed through the vents, coffee burned in forgotten mugs, and the printers whispered like ghosts reciting yesterday’s mistakes.

Yara Mendes sat in the glow of two monitors, glasses slipping down her nose, a pencil balanced between her fingers.

Everyone else had gone home. She liked it that way. The silence reminded her of the gym after fights—blood washed away, sweat drying in the corners, truth left behind like a smell you couldn’t quite get rid of.

On her screen, two tabs flickered between worlds:

Left side, The League’s official statement—carefully worded denial, all brand polish and moral distance.

Right side, a freeze-frame of Lia Chen’s torn glove—blood seeping through the seam, mid-strike, her eyes still locked on her opponent like pain was just another opponent to outlast.

Yara stared at the image until it blurred.

Her coffee had gone cold hours ago, but she drank it an