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Last time, the safehouse burned but didn’t break. Elara Voss survived, her confession captured live as mercenaries stormed the rectory. Families shouted names in the rain, reporters streamed every shot, and the circle lost the shadows it had hidden in. But power doesn’t collapse—it regroups. It bends the world into new shapes.
Tonight, the counterstrike begins.
This is The Counterstrike.
By Massai EdwardsLast time, the safehouse burned but didn’t break. Elara Voss survived, her confession captured live as mercenaries stormed the rectory. Families shouted names in the rain, reporters streamed every shot, and the circle lost the shadows it had hidden in. But power doesn’t collapse—it regroups. It bends the world into new shapes.
Tonight, the counterstrike begins.
This is The Counterstrike.