The explosion hit before they reached the street.

The entire block shook violently beneath their feet.

Nyra's breath caught instantly.

"No."

Ghost was already moving before the echo finished rolling through the city. BLACK VEIL stormed upward through the safehouse exit tunnels in full tactical formation, weapons raised, boots hammering against concrete stairs. Kane barked orders into comms while Lucas swore viciously somewhere ahead.

Another explosion ripped through the night.

This one brighter.

Closer.

Nyra burst out onto the rain-slick street just in time to see flames erupt through the roof of her garage.

For one horrible second, her brain refused to process it.

The neon sign she'd repaired three separate times flickered violently above shattered windows. Fire rolled through the upper office level in hungry orange waves. Thick black smoke poured into the Seattle night while shattered pieces of metal and glass rained into the alleyways around it.

Her garage.

Her home.

Gone.

"Oh my God."

The words barely made it out.

Nyra took one stumbling step forward. Then another.

People screamed somewhere nearby. Sirens echoed in the distance. Contractors were already gone—this wasn't an attack anymore. It was a message.

Hollow Sun knew exactly where to hurt her.

Ghost reached her side instantly. "Nyra—"

She ripped away from him violently.

"My tools—"

Another blast thundered from inside the garage. Heat punched outward hard enough to force everyone back. Part of the roof collapsed inward with a scream of twisting steel.

Nyra stared at it in horror.

Every memory she had left lived inside that building.

Her father teaching her engines at fourteen.

First race winnings hidden beneath loose floorboards.

The couch she slept on after her life fell apart.

Coffee-stained invoices. Spare parts. Music echoing through late nights while she rebuilt dead machines with bleeding knuckles and stubborn hope.

Everything.

Gone.

"No," Nyra whispered again. Sharper this time. "No, no, no—"

Then she ran toward the flames.

Ghost caught her before she made it three steps.

One arm slammed around her waist hard enough to physically lift her backward off the pavement.

"Let me go!"

Nyra fought him instantly. Pure panic. Pure grief. She shoved hard against his chest, trying to break free while smoke billowed violently into the night sky.

"There's propane tanks inside—" Ghost snapped.

"My brother's pictures are in there!" she screamed back.

The words hit him like a bullet.

Ghost tightened his hold automatically as another explosion burst through the lower garage level. Fire roared outward through the shattered bay doors in a wave of unbearable heat.

Nyra struggled harder.

"I can still get inside—"

"No."

Ghost's voice cracked through the chaos like steel dragged across concrete.

Nyra twisted violently against him anyway. Tears blurred her vision now, hot and furious and humiliating.

"You don't understand!"

Ghost locked both arms around her from behind completely now, holding her against his chest while she fought like something wounded.

"I understand exactly."

His voice sounded rough. Too rough.

Nyra barely heard him over the roaring flames.

"That place was everything I had!"

Another section of the roof collapsed inward. Sparks exploded upward into the rain-soaked night like burning stars. Firefighters shouted from down the block while BLACK VEIL secured the perimeter automatically, scanning for secondary attacks.

Ghost ignored all of it.

His entire focus stayed locked on the shaking woman in his arms.

Nyra's body finally started giving out beneath adrenaline and grief. Her breathing turned ragged. Desperate.

"I built that place," she whispered brokenly. "I built all of it myself."

Ghost's grip loosened slightly—not enough to let her go. Never enough for that. Just enough for one gloved hand to slide upward carefully against the back of her head.

"You can't save everything," he said quietly against her hair.

Nyra made a shattered sound at that.

Because God.

Wasn't that exactly what had destroyed him too?

She stopped fighting suddenly. Not because she wanted to. Because the reality finally hit hard enough to hollow her out from the inside.

The garage was gone.

Nothing inside survived that fire.

Nyra stared helplessly at the collapsing building while rain mixed with ash across her skin. Her knees nearly gave out completely this time. Ghost held her upright automatically. Solid. Unmoving.

Around them, Seattle blurred into noise and smoke and flashing emergency lights. But Nyra barely saw any of it.

She only saw flames swallowing the only place that had ever truly belonged to her.

Ghost looked over her head toward the burning structure, jaw clenched hard beneath the damaged skull mask.

Nyra felt it immediately.

The tension.

The fury.

Not loud. Never loud.

But terrifyingly controlled.

Because Ghost blamed himself already.

Darius sold the location.

Hollow Sun retaliated.

And Nyra lost her home because she got dragged into Ghost's war.

Nyra laughed once suddenly. A terrible sound. Wet with grief.

"Wow," she whispered shakily. "My life really has excellent pacing."

Ghost's arms tightened around her immediately.

"Don't," he said quietly.

Nyra looked up at the burning building again. "Everything I owned was in there."

Ghost didn't answer right away.

Because there was no tactical response to that. No fix. No strategy.

Only loss.

The flames reflected sharply in his grey eyes as he stared at the wreckage over her shoulder. Nyra realized suddenly that Ghost looked almost as helpless as she felt.

And that terrified her more than the fire itself.

Because Ghost could fight anything.

Bullets. Armies. Contractors.

But he didn't know how to fight grief when it belonged to someone he cared about.

The firefighters finally surged closer to the structure, hoses cutting through flames while collapsing metal screamed overhead. Lucas approached carefully from the sidewalk, expression unusually subdued.

"Ghost," he said quietly. "We need to move."

Ghost didn't respond immediately.

Nyra still shook slightly in his arms, staring blankly at the burning wreckage.

Finally Ghost lowered his head slightly toward her. "Nyra."

She didn't answer.

His hand slid carefully against the back of her neck. Not tactical. Not possessive. Just grounding.

"We have to go."

Nyra swallowed hard enough it hurt.

Then another explosion burst from deep inside the garage. Smaller this time. Final.

The old neon sign flickered once above the flames.

Then died completely.

Nyra broke.

Not loudly.

That was the worst part.

No screaming. No dramatic collapse.

She just folded inward silently in Ghost's arms while ash rained through the Seattle night around them.

Ghost held her tighter immediately.

And for the first time since Nyra Quinn crashed into his life covered in grease and bad decisions—

Ghost looked utterly helpless watching someone he loved lose everything.