Evie was halfway inside the engine bay of a stolen BMW when the first gunshot hit the garage door.

CLANG.

Metal screamed.

Evie jerked upright and smashed the back of her head against the hood.

“OW—son of a—”

Another shot ripped through the garage.

Then six more.

Rapid fire.

Luis disappeared behind a tool cabinet instantly.

“THAT SOUNDED EXPENSIVE.”

Evie blinked twice.

“…Okay. Bad start to the evening.”

Bullets tore through the steel shutters.

Outside, tires screeched hard enough to echo through the building.

Voices shouted.

Glass shattered.

Somebody screamed.

Then a black SUV smashed directly through the front security barrier.

Concrete shook beneath Evie’s boots.

She stared in horror.

“OH COME ON. THAT DOOR WAS CUSTOM.”

Armed men poured out of the SUV.

Not NOCTURNE.

Wrong posture.

Wrong movement.

These guys looked like somebody watched three action movies and immediately bought tactical gear online.

One idiot wore gold chains over body armor.

Evie actually looked offended.

Luis peeked over the toolbox.

“…Should we call the police?”

Evie stared at him.

“Luis. There are currently assault rifles inside my garage.”

“…Right. Fair.”

Gunfire exploded again.

Concrete burst beside the workbench.

Evie dropped behind the BMW as shattered glass rained overhead.

Adrenaline hit hard.

Everything sharpened instantly.

Heat.

Noise.

Movement.

One of the armed men shouted:

“WHERE IS THE GIRL?”

Evie frowned from behind cover.

“…Rude. I have a name.”

More gunfire.

Luis screamed somewhere near the office.

Then a Molotov crashed through the side entrance.

Flames exploded across the floor.

Evie froze.

“Oh, absolutely not.”

Fire spread fast.

Oil stains ignited immediately.

Rubber smoke rolled across the ceiling.

Her garage.

Her tools.

Years of work.

“NO NO NO—”

She lunged toward the nearest rolling toolbox just as bullets tore through the wall behind her.

Another explosion shook the building.

One attacker shouted:

“Burn the place!”

Evie looked genuinely heartbroken.

“You people don’t even appreciate machinery!”

Outside, tires screamed again.

Different engine this time.

Lower.

Heavier.

Fast.

The attackers heard it too.

Several turned toward the entrance—

The first body hit the floor before anybody processed what happened.

One shot.

Clean.

Second body dropped half a second later.

Then the lights died.

Darkness swallowed half the garage.

Gunfire erupted again.

Not random.

Controlled.

Short bursts.

Precise shots.

The attackers panicked instantly.

One screamed near the entrance.

Another collapsed beside the burning shelves.

And through smoke and flashing emergency lights—

Cassian walked into the garage.

Black tactical gear.

Black gloves.

Suppressor smoke curling from one hand.

Calm.

Not emotionally calm.

Operationally calm.

Like this was the only environment his body understood anymore.

Evie felt relief hit so hard it actually annoyed her.

“Oh thank God.”

Then immediately:

“THEY SET MY GARAGE ON FIRE.”

Cassian shot another attacker in the throat without looking away from her.

“I noticed.”

One syndicate guy rushed him from the side.

Cassian moved once.

Knife.

Twist.

Impact.

The body hit concrete hard enough to make Luis gag somewhere behind cover.

Evie stared.

“…Jesus Christ.”

Cassian was already moving again.

Not fighting.

Cleaning the room.

Three shots cracked through the smoke.

Three bodies dropped.

Alarms screamed overhead while flames spread across the ceiling beams.

Luis crawled toward Evie.

“WHO ARE THESE PEOPLE?”

“No idea!”

One dying attacker coughed blood near the workbench.

“For Viktor—”

Cassian shot him before he finished.

Silence dropped for half a second.

Evie blinked.

“…That felt kinda dramatic.”

Cassian looked at her instantly.

“Can you move?”

“Yes.”

“Then move.”

Another explosion hit the back wall.

Fire spread toward storage.

Evie gasped.

“My toolboxes.”

Cassian stared at her through the smoke.

“Evie.”

“My custom torque set is back there.”

“Evie.”

“I HAVE SPECIALIZED EQUIPMENT.”

Bullets tore through the windows again.

Cassian crossed the distance instantly, grabbed her shoulder, and shoved her behind an engine block before firing back.

Three rounds.

Three impacts.

Evie coughed against the smoke.

“My air compressor too!”

Kane burst through the side entrance carrying an assault rifle.

“What the hell happened?”

Evie pointed accusingly at the flames.

“CRIME.”

Kane looked around once.

“…Yeah. That tracks.”

Cassian grabbed Evie’s wrist.

“We’re leaving.”

“No.”

His grip tightened slightly.

“No?”

“My toolboxes.”

Cassian stared at her like civilian attachment to objects had genuinely never occurred to him before.

“They’re replaceable.”

Evie looked horrified.

“No they are NOT. One of them has stickers.”

Another support beam collapsed in a shower of sparks.

Heat slammed through the garage hard enough to sting exposed skin.

Kane looked between them.

“…Boss. Building’s on fire.”

Evie pointed deeper inside.

“My blue toolbox specifically.”

Cassian looked at her for one long second.

Then turned and walked directly into the flames.

Evie blinked rapidly.

“…Did he just—”

Kane sighed heavily.

“Yeah. He does weird stuff now.”

Gunfire echoed outside while smoke swallowed half the garage.

Thirty seconds later Cassian emerged from the fire carrying two heavy toolboxes.

One blue.

One red.

Like they weighed nothing.

Evie actually gasped.

“Oh my God.”

Cassian dropped them beside her.

“You mentioned the red one yesterday.”

Evie stared at him.

Out of everything happening—

the fire,

the bullets,

the collapsing garage—

he remembered that?

Another explosion thundered overhead.

Cassian grabbed her around the waist before she could argue again.

Evie yelped.

“WAIT MY—”

“Enough.”

Then he carried her straight through the burning garage while bullets screamed outside.

Smoke rolled around them in thick black waves.

Evie coughed hard against his shoulder, fingers gripping his shirt automatically while heat slammed across the walls.

Cassian never loosened his hold once.