The revelation hit like a hamr across every screen, every command center, every heart listening to the transmission.
Miles Sterling slowly lifted his eyes toward Rehman Nawwar.
"Then what is inside the vans?"
Rehman’s grin widened slowly, proudly, almost admiring the chaos he had crafted.
"C4."
The word alone tightened the atmosphere.
"Plastic explosives. Still deadly enough to turn streets into graves."
He leaned back slightly, laughing under his breath.
"I never expected you to tamper with the feeds though. Clever move."
His eyes narrowed.
"But you were unlucky."
He pointed casually toward one of the surveillance monitors.
"There was a tiny section of a clock tower visible in one of the loops."
A chuckle escaped him.
"The clock hands were showing a different ti."
Miles stared at him silently.
Rehman spread his arms slightly.
"One small mistake."
Miles finally nodded faintly.
"I admit it."
His tone remained calm.
"You are smart, Rehman."
A brief pause followed.
"Maybe smarter than your father."
For a mont, Rehman’s smile faded.
Then Miles continued.
"But what next?"
His eyes sharpened.
"You think once your uncle escapes, Graveyard will stop?"
His voice lowered.
"They will hunt you to hell itself."
A cold silence followed.
"I was only one operative."
Miles leaned slightly forward despite the restraints.
"Do not forget... there are thousands more."
The ntion of Graveyard darkened the atmosphere itself.
Rehman suddenly slamd his fist onto the table.
The sound echoed violently through the room.
"Then let them co."
His voice rose with fanatic conviction.
"This is our declaration of war."
Miles’ hands remained cuffed tightly to the heavy steel table before him, chains restraining his movents, yet his expression remained terrifyingly composed.
...
Inside the Citadel war room, tension had reached its breaking point.
Dibney stepped forward urgently.
"Mr. President... we have another update from Al Qiyan."
Maxwell looked up sharply.
"What now?"
Dibney swallowed slightly.
"There is an eighteenth explosive. "
"They really hid another one?!"
"This was intentional..."
General Wraithbourne clenched his jaw tightly.
"They delayed this information on purpose till the last minute."
Maxwell’s face darkened.
"So we would have no choice but to comply."
Monica imdiately stepped toward the communication console.
"Our agents are still searching."
Her voice carried urgency but remained controlled.
"We only have five minutes left."
She can now directly see the President through the screen.
"But we need ti."
Maxwell closed his eyes for a brief second before making the decision.
"We cannot risk even a single civilian life."
His voice echoed firmly across the war room.
"Nither the people of Star Harbor."
A pause.
"Nor Miles."
He opened his eyes again.
"We will agree to their terms at the last minute. That buys us another hour."
Everyone turned toward him.
"The Navy has entered Star Harbor already."
He continued issuing commands rapidly.
"They will assist your operations directly."
He pointed toward the communication officers.
"A secure military link has been established with Sterling Security."
Charles nodded imdiately.
"Copy that, Mr. President."
Maxwell turned sharply.
"Dibney."
"Yes, Mr. President."
"Prepare a helicopter."
His expression hardened.
"Send agents to the prison."
A dangerous silence followed.
"Release Faizal Al Nawwar."
Dibney hesitated for less than a second.
Then nodded.
"Understood."
...
Miles listened to every word through the hidden earpiece concealed in his ear.
His eyes slowly lowered toward his watch.
He calculated silently.
One hour.
Three minutes.
Enough.
Enough ti to kill the man standing before him and end everything here.
His gun lay beside the chair.
Close enough.
Rehman’s phone buzzed suddenly.
He casually placed the detonator aside on the table and picked up the phone with his left hand. He can only use one hand to hold things, he is fingerless in one hand. His grin widened after reading the ssage.
"Your governnt surrendered."
He laughed openly now.
"They agreed to release my uncle."
Another laugh followed.
"And they are even giving him an airlift. I have extended the explosion tir to final one hour, then.. "
His eyes burned with triumph.
"I won, Ghost."
He stepped closer.
"I won."
A faint silence followed.
Then Miles spoke quietly.
"Are you sure?"
Before Rehman could react
Miles exploded into motion.
The heavy steel table screeched violently across the floor as Miles rose with terrifying force, chains still attached to his wrists. The sheer strength behind the movent shocked even the ard n nearby.
The table slamd forward like a battering ram.
Rehman’s eyes widened.
Too late.
Miles crashed into him full force.
The impact shattered the nearby window instantly.
Glass exploded outward.
Both n flew through the opening.
Then
They fell.
The first floor drop slamd them brutally onto the ground below.
The steel table fell apart with broken joints beside them with a deafening crash.
Pain surged through Miles’ body like fire.
But he locked his breath tightly, forcing himself to remain conscious.
Nearby, Rehman groaned heavily, blood running from the corner of his mouth.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then slowly...
Both n stood again.
Miles rolled his shoulders painfully, stretching his legs slightly despite the damage.
His breathing had beco heavier now.
But his eyes...
Were colder than before.
Rehman coughed violently, wiped the blood from his lips, then smiled again.
A broken smile.
A dangerous one.
And suddenly
He lunged forward.
The mont Rehman Nawwar lunged forward, his fist cut through the air with brutal force, aiming straight for Miles Sterling’s face.
Miles tilted his head slightly.
The punch brushed past his cheek.
Before Rehman could recover, Miles drove his elbow straight into his ribs.
A heavy crack echoed.
Rehman staggered back coughing, but instead of fear...
He laughed.
Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth as he wiped it with the back of his hand.
"There he is..."
His eyes burned wildly.
"The Ghost I wanted to see."
He rushed again.
This ti faster.
A knee slamd into Miles’ stomach before a punch crashed against his jaw, forcing Miles two steps back. His injured body protested instantly, pain shooting through his side where previous wounds had barely stabilized.
The ard n around them instinctively moved forward.
"Guns ready!"
But Rehman imdiately roared without taking his eyes off Miles.
"No one interferes!"
The n stopped instantly.
Rehman spread his arms slightly, breathing heavily now.
"This is mine."
Miles spat blood to the side and adjusted his stance silently.
His breathing had beco rougher.
His muscles slower.
The exhaustion was catching up.
But his eyes remained terrifyingly calm.
Rehman charged once more, throwing relentless strikes now, wild but powerful, trying to overwhelm him through sheer aggression. Two punches landed against Miles’ shoulder and ribs before Miles caught the third punch midair.
Their fists locked.
Rehman grinned inches away from his face.
"You are slowing down."
Miles answered coldly.
"You are talking too much."
Suddenly his forehead slamd into Rehman’s nose.
Crunch.
Blood exploded instantly.
Rehman stumbled back laughing again despite the injury.
"You still fight like a monster..."
He rushed again recklessly.
Miles moved forward instead of backward this ti.
One strike.
A sharp blow to the throat.
Another.
A brutal knee into the stomach.
Rehman folded slightly.
Then Miles twisted behind him with terrifying speed despite his injuries and locked an arm around his neck.
Rehman struggled violently as Miles tightened the hold.
The ard n around them panicked again.
"Boss!"
Weapons raised.
But Rehman raised his hand weakly, stopping them once more even while being choked.
His face had already turned red.
Yet...
He was still laughing.
A broken, breathless laugh escaped his throat while Miles’ grip tightened harder and harder.
....
"You... really... are terrifying, Ghost..."
Rehman Nawwar coughed violently while still laughing through the pain.
"I cannot beat you in combat..."
Blood slipped from the corner of his lips as his grin widened further.
"But how will you face them?"
Miles Sterling slowly turned his head.
At first, his vision was blurred from exhaustion, blood loss, and the brutal fall.
Dark shapes.
Movent.
Then slowly...
His sight cleared.
And he saw them.
Dozens of n.
Walking toward him.
So ard with knives.
So carrying tal rods..
All gathered for one purpose.
To kill the Ghost of Graveyard.
Miles let out a faint chuckle filled with pain and exhaustion.
"Is this so kind of test..."
He released Rehman’s neck and let him collapse onto the ground.
Rehman coughed heavily, dragging air into his lungs while ard n imdiately rushed toward him protectively.
Then suddenly
A powerful hot wind swept across the abandoned naval base, dust and debris spiraling through the broken structures like nature itself had beco restless.
Rehman slowly stood again, holding his bruised throat while staring at Miles.
"Go then, Ghost."
His voice echoed loudly now.
"Fight."
His grin returned.
"This is your final war."
He spread his arms toward the dozens approaching.
"I wanted you to watch your city burn with your own eyes... but you took that chance away yourself."
His expression darkened.
"You are outnumbered."
Another step closer.
"They will tear you apart."
Another.
"You will be crushed beneath their feet."
His voice lowered into sothing colder.
"And the Ghost of Graveyard..."
A pause.
"Will die alone."
"The one who saved countless lives, today there is no one to save him"
...
Inside the Citadel war room...
Silence dominated the room.
Generals.
Agents.
Military officers.
All staring at the live body cam feed.
Nobody spoke.
Because for the first ti...
Even they could see death approaching clearly.
...
Inside Sterling Security’s operation room, agents stood frozen before the screens.
So clenched their fists.
So lowered their heads silently.
Others stared with pride and fear mixed together in their eyes.
Because the man standing there...
Was carrying the weight of an entire city.
Monica finally spoke quietly.
"Charles..."
Charles answered instantly, though tension was obvious even in his voice.
"The snipers are in position."
He looked toward the tactical displays.
"But it will not be enough."
His jaw tightened.
"The wind is against us."
Another screen flashed red.
"And there are more n than expected."
He exhaled heavily.
"This is close quarters combat. We cannot get a clean line of fire without risking him."
Monica stayed silent for a second.
She could feel fear rising inside the room.
But she refused to let it spread.
"Boss?"
Miles’ heavy breathing echoed through the communication channel.
"I can still fight, Monica."
Another breath.
"I will fight until my last breath."
His voice carried exhaustion now, but the determination inside it remained unshaken.
Then he spoke again.
"Promise ..."
The entire room listened.
"Promise , everyone..."
His eyes slowly lifted toward the dark sky above the ruined base.
"Promise , Mr. President..."
A faint pause followed.
"You will protect my family."
Another breath.
"My people."
Another.
"The citizens."
Silence.
No one interrupted him.
Because everyone understood what he was really saying.
Ghost had faced death countless tis before.
He knew what it looked like.
He knew what it felt like when survival chances disappeared.
And deep down...
He understood that his exhausted and wounded body should not be able to survive what was coming toward him now.
But still
Miles slowly adjusted the vest on his body.
Tightened it firmly.
Then bent slightly and tightened his shoelaces carefully.
One side.
Then the other.
Finally...
He clenched his fists tightly until blood dripped from split skin across his knuckles.
His breathing slowed.
His eyes hardened again.
Cold.
Steady.
Ready.
"One last ti..."
Then suddenly he shouted while walking directly toward the approaching swarm.
"CO ON!"
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