Paris – 6:05 AM – Rooftop above Café Les Ombres
The rooftop wind cut like a blade, but Émile felt nothing but adrenaline. Beside him, Claire moved with precision, weapon drawn, footsteps echoing along the iron stairs.
The shooter was still there.
Sitting, incredibly calm, as if nothing had happened.
— "Don't come any closer," he said without turning.
— "Hands up," Claire ordered.
— "It's too late for that."
He turned slowly. Not German. Not French. Somewhere in between. An ordinary face, someone who could vanish in any crowd.
— "I wasn't sent to kill. I was sent to mark."
Émile raised his weapon.
— "You failed."
— "That's what they told me to do."
The old radio beside him crackled.
A female voice:
— "Confirm failure. Phase Two will begin in Montmartre."
Claire exchanged a glance with Émile.
— "Montmartre? Why?"
The shooter smiled.
— "Because this was never about Reiner. He's just bait. You still don't see the real target."
— "Who is the real target?"
Silence.
Then he jumped.
Not to escape.
To fall.
Claire ran to the edge. But he was already gone.
Only the radio remained... still transmitting:
— "Phase Two initiated. The Veil has fallen. Now the people choose."
---
Montmartre – 6:08 AM
At the top of the hill, a crowd gathered in front of a shattered shop window.
A blood-stained newspaper hung loosely:
"CHANCELLOR WOUNDED. FRENCH MAN DEAD. DIPLOMATIC CRISIS LOOMS."
And behind the crowd...
Someone was handing out flyers.
With a split rose at the center.