Breaking Point

“Nice work, Agent... Stoner,” Councilor Five says, quickly reading the nametag on Ray's chest rig as he approaches. Ray grunts with effort as he keeps the suspect pinned firmly against the ground.

“Councilor, I urge you to get back inside.” Ray urges with alarm in his voice.

“Why? You've apprehended the man.”

“I have a feeling that there are more—”

Ray spots a glint in the distance. A sharp crack splits the air. Councilor Five’s head snaps back violently as the arrowhead lodges in his temple. He crumples to the ground, motionless.

Gasps ripple through the crowd before erupting into screams as they realize what just happened—a member of the World Council just dropped dead.

Ray gets to his feet, releasing his knee on the suspect.

“Just as foretold!” The suspect preaches with maniacal conviction, throwing his head back in hysterical laughter. “Virtus per ignem! Virtus per ignem!”

Ray shouts desperately into his comms, “I need medical assistance for Councilor Five, ASAP!”

Mika, hearing the commotion, bursts out the Peace Center's front doors. She freezes at the sight of Councilor Five's lifeless body sprawled on the steps.

Ray’s eyes dart to the building in the distance—a figure leaps down the bamboo scaffolding.

He waves down Mika who’s rushing toward him.

“Take over,” he orders curtly before sprinting away.

“Wait—” Mika protests, but he’s already slipped his way past the crowds.

Jade and Dell arrive in a rush, pushing through the chaos as Enforcement scramble to control the situation.

“Mika! What the hell is going on...” Jade's voice trails off as she sees the scene before her. The Councilor's security detail attempt CPR while medics rush to attend to him.

“...Take over.” Mika tears away, following Ray's path.

Ray pursues the woman with the long scarf down the cobbled streets of the historical Raffles district, fighting back an unsettling sense of déjà vu. She leads him down into Singapore's pristine subway station, her heels clicking against the polished granite stairs.

At the fare gates, Locke vaults over without breaking stride. Ray follows suit, opting to barge through with speed before the gate can react. Behind them, Mika flashes her borrowed Interpol badge at a startled station attendant as she rushes through.

The subway train glides into the station. Ray catches a glimpse of the scarf slipping through the doors of the front car. Mika trails him not far behind, witnessing Ray slip into a subway car just as the doors begin to close.

Mika jams her katana between the closing doors. They reopen, allowing her to squeeze through. She pushes her way forward through the crowded car, catching glimpses of Ray ahead as he searches for the mysterious woman.

At the next stop, Locke steps out onto the platform. Ray, staying just far enough behind to avoid detection, follows her through the exit into Millenia Tower.

Locke swipes her phone at the security gate, the receptionist paying no mind to her. As she waits for the elevator, she scans her surroundings for any tail. Ray ducks behind the corner, holding his breath.

The elevator chimes. Locke steps inside, swiping her phone again before selecting the roof level.

Now it’s his chance. Ray vaults over the little electronic gate, ignoring the buzzing alarm, and draws his shortsword. With a fluid slide, he slips through the elevator doors just before they shut.

Locke moves to block Ray's attack. Ray's sword swing goes wide, but the space is cramped. He strikes the elevator walls instead. Locke seizes his wrist, twisting until the weapon clatters to the floor. Ray spins to break free. One, two punch. Locke parries each blow with her armored forearms. She retaliates with her own flurry of fist strikes, but Ray easily blocks them.

Finding themselves evenly matched in hand-to-hand, Locke draws her weapon. Ray instinctively wrestles her arm upward. BLAM! The shot punches through the elevator ceiling, the sound causing tinnitus in Ray’s ears.

Ray’s mind flashes back to the stormy night in Hong Kong. He remembers the glimpses of the fluttering scarf. The same cold, dead eyes staring back.

It’s her.

The elevator doors part. Locke sweeps Ray's legs from under him. He tumbles as she retreats out onto the roof, the humid wind whipping through as she busts through the creaking metal door.

She limps to the far end where only a landing pad awaits. Seventy stories up, there are no adjacent buildings to leap to, no other escape routes.

Ray emerges from the doorway, shortsword in his grip, approaching with careful steps. Storm clouds gather overhead as gusty wind pick up.

“You're under arrest for the assassination of a member of the World Council. Surrender now, and I'll ensure a fair trial.”

But Locke smirks. “You have no idea, do you?” She raises her weapon, giving Ray his first clear look at it in daylight—sleek black composite metal body, elegantly curved handle, carbon fiber grips, hammer cocked back over the flash pan, the tip crackling with a faint blue electric arc. He can see the small lead projectile in the barrel, waiting to penetrate through him.

The world’s first matchlock pistol.

The world’s first gun.

He freezes, knowing one wrong move and it’s all over.

But Mika, having just caught up, sees only what appears to be an advanced crossbow. In her mind, she can deflect whatever slow-moving projectile it might launch.

Without warning, she charges past Ray at full speed, katana raised to parry the incoming shot.

“Mika! Stop!” Ray shouts, but it's too late.

BLAM! The matchlock fires the lead ball at devastatingly high velocity. Mika raises her sword to deflect it, but the projectile moves faster than any arrow. It strikes the katana's blade at an angle, vibrating violently along the sword’s length until hitting the tang. The impact shatters the historic weapon’s hilt, mangling Mika's hand in the process.

She barely has time to scream as her body is knocked back by the force. Her head cracks against the stucco wall as her combat glasses go flying. Blood trickles down the back of her skull as she slumps to the ground.

“Mika!” Ray’s cry echoes across the roof.

Thunder booms in the distance. Rain begins to fall as a sprinkle.

His's mind flashes back to the raid on the ship in Hong Kong: Flint on the deck, the horrific aftermath.

She killed Flint.

Ray’s face turns to an expression of pure anger.

Locke's scarf whips in the growing storm, lightning flashing behind her on cue. She cracks her pistol open, sliding in fresh projectile and propellant from her pouch.

This is his chance—strike while she reloads. But before he can get close enough, Locke snaps the gun closed with a flick and levels it at his chest.

“You coward,” he growls.

She scoffs. “You're not my target today. Don't do anything stupid.”

A VTOL dropship roars into view, its engines rotating vertical as it descends toward the landing pad. Elite Accel Order shock troopers emerge in heavy armor, wielding sheathed broadswords, faces hidden behind sleek black visors. Their boots thunder on the roof as they step off the craft.

One kneels beside Mika's unconscious body, checking her pulse. “Leader, she's alive.”

Locke gives pause. Nobody has ever survived a shot before. “Then bring her with us.”

The trooper slings Mika over his shoulder, armor clanking as he carries her to the dropship.

Ray, his feet paralyzed from fear, watches helplessly as they take Mika. Locke backs herself toward the aircraft, weapon trained continuously on Ray.

Without breaking eye contact, she tosses a communication device upon Ray’s feet. “If you want her back, wait for our instructions.”

She slides the door shut. The VTOL engines whine to full power, flying away into the gathering storm.

Ray patches into his earpiece. “Bradshaw, in need of wings stat. The suspects are getting away in a dropship.”

“Negative. Tropical storm is moving in. We have to wait it out.”

The rain suddenly turns to a downpour.

“But Shinkawa... They kidnapped her! They have Mika!”

There is a dramatic pause on the transmission. “There's nothing we can do now,” Bradshaw finally replies with resignation in his voice. “Return to HQ. Mission is a failure.”

Ray drops to his knees, pounding his fists against the concrete. The rain trickles down his face, masking his tears.