The president pocketed his phone and crouched beside a loose rung, his gloved fingers brushing the bolt that had been tampered with earlier. He could see the smear of fresh oil he had left there hours before, enough to loosen, but not enough to look obvious.
As the faint echo of Morgana's screams bled from the phone speaker, the man chuckled under his breath.
He dragged a hand through his hair, grin widening.
"My father owns this city. I run it. Its people, its justice, everything. No one can imprison me. No one can stop me."
He straightened, eyes cold as he looked down from the tower. Far below, Sid was still clinging to life, barely holding on. The man's grin darkened.
"Let's see you climb your way out of this one."
As Sid reached for the final beam, the weakened metal gave a long, shuddering creak.
Crk— kk—
