She took the glass, the liquid warm against her lips, and let the taste linger. In the back of her mind, a small voice whispered that perhaps one day she’d be more than a tool for the Circle. Maybe she’d set a fire that would burn away the darkness itself, not just the rivals of a criminal syndicate.
When the final timer clicked into place, Brianna pressed her back against the cold concrete wall and watched the seconds crawl down. The rain outside intensified, drumming against the corrugated roof with a rhythm that matched the pounding in her ears. She could almost hear the city holding its breath. brianna arson goon
Brianna slipped out through a side exit she’d marked weeks before. The rain washed the soot from her jacket, turning the grime into a slick, dark sheen. She walked the alleys with the same measured stride she’d taken before, blending into the night like any other goon slipping away after a job. She took the glass, the liquid warm against
Brianna crouched behind the rusted fire escape of the old textile warehouse on 7th and Main. She pulled the hood of her battered leather jacket tighter, feeling the familiar tug of anticipation in her chest. The city called to her in whispers, and she answered in flames. When the final timer clicked into place, Brianna