“What scale are we talking about?” Braxton asks next. “Is it spreading?”
 
 “I don’t know yet. Seems to me that they’re focusing on North and South America for now.”
 
 “Post-apocalypse, I knew it,” Mitch murmurs. “Next, they’re going to do experiments and whatnot.”
 
 “I’m trying not to go there because I still don’t know their goal or how deep this goes, but when I have more information, I’ll let you know.”
 
 I feel like I’ve lived so many lives already and… now this.
 
 “What are we going to do?”
 
 “We can’t go back.”
 
 Mitch and Braxton finish each other’s sentences. Their tired eyes flick from side to side as they try to read our faces.
 
 “You have two choices,” Izzy continues, “you come here and you fight, and we have no idea what we’re fighting up against, or you never come back.”
 
 We pause for a few moments to let that sink in.
 
 Who would have guessed that the secrets hiding in the darkest corners of Salem, Massachusetts, would eventually lead to the end of everything we know?
 
 Romina ends the call when Izzy says she has to go. She pulls up a stool and drops onto the seat. “There will always be evil in the world, no matter how much we try to cleanse it. I’m not going back. However, I’ll ensure you get there if you want to join Izzy. Again, we don’t know what we’re up against. It could end in a few days or last for months or years. I am obligated to tell you that it’s dangerous, and they threaten to kill people who exit the borders. They have eyes and ears everywhere.”
 
 “Grandma, you’re stepping out?”
 
 “No. I feel like I’m useful out here without a cyberattack. I can snoop around and maybe find some leads. It might spread, so time is of the essence. I’m seventy-three years old. I’m too old for this shit.” She chuckles, and we join her. “I leave BLACKBIRD to the younger generation. I’ll help from the sidelines. They don’t need me anymore.”
 
 “We’ll always need you.”
 
 The four of us chant together.
 
 “So, what’s it going to be?” She quickly redirects us back to the main issue, Romina-style. “Who’s coming to Germany with me?”
 
 Epilogue
 
 A Year Later
 
 Winona
 
 The darkened road stretches out into the distance as our motorcycles roar forward. I round the limousine in front of us to the right while Reeve takes the left side. We slow down and position ourselves on either side. My gloved hands clutch the handlebars tightly, one slipping off to pull the gun from my holster.
 
 Target number 9: Elimination. He was caught communicating with The Creators through a game chat and was labeled a high threat, indicating he is a program or game developer.
 
 He is heading to a private convention in Berlin, Germany—the one Grandma mentioned when she asked us if we wanted to go on a mission together after our much-needed long break.
 
 Life may seem normal outside America, but it’s far from it. PC games started taking over the world, with one game blurring the lines between fiction and reality, daring players to redraw those boundaries daily.
 
 It’s only a matter of time before the cyberattack spreads across the entire world. Countries worldwide are doing everything they can to prepare for it, but how can they when these creators have been planning it for years upon years? They hold the advantage of time.
 
 James wanted chaos, and that’s exactly what he got.
 
 I signal the driver to open the tinted windows and cut a quick glance at Reeve. He nods and lifts his gun toward the back window. The moment they slide down, Reeve and I pull the trigger.
 
 “Target is down,” Braxton informs us through the earpiece, waving to me from the passenger seat. Mitch wiggles his eyebrows next to him, chewing his gum with a mischievous smirk. “I have his phone and computer. We’ll take care of this. See you back at the airfield.”
 
 “Copy.”
 
 We both answer, waiting for them to leave because the party is about to start. We activate our comms as soon as they take the next exit.