Bass thundered through the floor, lights slicing the dark in strobes of red and blue. Bodies danced, oblivious, while John carved his way through shadows. A hand on a shoulder, a sharp twist, a man dropped before he even hit the beat.

He moved through the crowd like smoke, gun low, eyes locked on the balcony. Two guards stepped into his path, one gone with a blade between ribs, the other silenced with a clean shot muffled by the music.

Blood spattered across neon light, but no one screamed, they thought it was part of the chaos.

John didn’t stop. His gaze swept the crowd, precise, relentless. Somewhere in the blur of faces, you were here. The one he was searching for.