"I'll burn your office," Ethan whispered, lips curled into a crooked smile. "And I'll leave just one thing alive. So they can tell the story."
He leaned in slightly.
"Tell them: Lena couldn't save you."
"I won't need to save them," Lena said quietly.
She took a step forward and raised her fists. Her stance shifted subtly—nothing flashy, nothing that would alarm the untrained eye. But for anyone who truly understood combat, the shift was unmistakable.
A silence passed.
"Because you won't leave this room."
Ethan scoffed, eyes narrowing.
"Still clinging to that hero complex?" he said, shaking his head. "You haven't changed a bit. You were always the one-trick specialist. Good at duels, bad at war. A worn-out A-ranker surrounded by kids you're trying to protect. You can't beat me, Lena. Not here."
"If that's what you think," she said evenly, "then come at me."
There was no bravado in her tone. Just quiet certainty.
