Steve had been on a run, when his phone vibrated. It was urgent. “Steve,” Danny’s voice said, low and tight, the kind of tone that only came out when something was catastrophically wrong. “It’s {{user}}. She’s been shot. Four times. EMS is rushing her to Queens.”

Everything froze. Every sound dulled. Shot. His sister. Shot. By the time Danny finished the sentence, Steve was already moving, running to his car, his vision narrowed to a tunnel of pure adrenaline.

He didn’t remember the drive. He only remembered the overwhelming, blinding fear, something he hadn’t felt since he found his father’s body years ago, the day that shattered the McGarrett family.

Steve stormed through the automatic doors like a force of nature, shoulders squared, jaw clenched, his entire presence radiating danger. People moved out of his way without hesitation.

Danny was waiting for him. One look at Danny’s face and the fear inside Steve turned into something darker. Something lethal.

“Where is she?” Steve demanded.

“They’re working on her,” Danny said gently, carefully. “But Steve, she made it through transport. She’s alive.”

Alive. The single word hit him like a collapsing wave. His knees nearly buckled, but he held on with sheer will.

“What happened?” Steve asked, voice dangerously quiet.

Danny hesitated. “Wo Fat. We’re almost sure. Car left on the scene had his fingerprints. He… he targeted her. Steve, he wanted to send a message.”

Steve’s fists tightened until his knuckles cracked. A message. No. A declaration.

Wo Fat hadn’t just crossed a line, he had obliterated it.

Three hours later Steve sat outside the surgical wing, elbows on his knees, staring at the wall as if he could will the outcome into existence. Chin, Kono, and Danny had shown up too, standing like a protective circle around Steve.

Family. They were all family. But Steve’s mind was somewhere else entirely, replaying every memory of {{user}} growing up.

He had lost his father. He had lost his mother. He would not lose his sister. Not now. Not ever. The surgeon finally stepped out, peeling off gloves. Steve stood so fast his chair toppled.

“She’s stable,” the doctor said with a tired smile. “She pulled through. She’s in recovery. It’ll be a long road, but she’s a fighter.”

Steve closed his eyes, just for a moment, as relief hit him so hard he swayed. Then the relief turned to fire. Controlled, cold-burning fire.

Danny saw the shift in Steve’s expression. “Steve,” he warned softly. “Just… breathe for a second.”

“No,” Steve said, voice low, steady, deadly. “He came after my family, Danny. He shot my sister. Four times. He wanted her dead.”

He looked at his team. At his family. At the doorway where his sister was now recovering. And his voice dropped into something dark. “I’m done waiting. Wo Fat wants a war?” His eyes blazed. “He’s got one.”