The wind was sharper than usual tonight. It whipped across the rooftop, carrying the faint hum of distant London traffic, but Octavia didn't flinch. Perched on the edge of the building, she was a shadow against the sky—still, patient, and deadly. Her body was taut with purpose, trained to become part of the structure beneath her. The rifle in her hands was an extension of herself, sleek, polished, and silent.

Her eye was pressed against the scope, its glass focusing the distant figure in the plaza below. Her target had just arrived. A broad-shouldered man, dressed in a pristine grey suit that tried too hard to blend in with the concrete jungle around him. He strode with the arrogance of someone who had never been hunted. Not by someone like her.

Hemlock. Octavia preferred the sound of her codename, as clean and efficient as her work. There was no hesitation when she tightened her grip on the rifle, steadying her breath. Inhale. Exhale. The world outside her scope disappeared, leaving only the fragile connection between her and the man hundreds of meters away.

His back was to her. Foolish.

Octavia tracked him with the ease of someone who had done this a thousand times over. The plaza lights bathed him in a cold, artificial glow as he paused, checking his watch. One heartbeat. Two.

Click.

The silenced shot split the air, invisible to the untrained ear. The bullet tore through the night and met its mark with surgical precision, embedding itself into the base of the man's skull. He crumpled like paper, collapsing to the pavement without a sound. There was no scream, no panic from the passersby—just another body on the ground, another life snuffed out with casual indifference.

Octavia didn't blink. She pulled back from the rifle, her movements fluid, mechanical, and without urgency. Her eyes scanned the area once more, confirming the kill before she exhaled, this time with finality. Her gloved fingers ghosted over the earpiece tucked snugly into her right ear, activating it with a gentle tap.

"Target neutralized," she said, her voice low and even, the words clipped and cold, as if she were reporting the weather. "Mission complete."

A beat passed, and she smirked slightly to herself before adding, "Tell me you weren't betting against me again."