🚨 HE THOUGHT HIS DAD WAS AN ORDINARY MAN... UNTIL TWO ROBBERS THREATENED HIM IN A BANK! 🚨

Arthur stepped into the living room, his gun raised, aiming straight between Sarah's eyes. Outside, three black attack helicopters hovered over the pine trees, their spotlights cutting through the cabin's rain-slicked windows.

"Put the gun down, Sarah," Arthur said, his voice deadly quiet. "You faked your death. You used me. You used our life together as a cover story."

"It wasn't just a cover story," Sarah said, a faint glimmer of emotion crossing her face before turning back to stone. "I loved the peace we had. But the Agency spent fifty million dollars creating Leo. His neural network, his reaction speed, his resistance to fear—he is the ultimate asset. He belongs to the state, Arthur. Not to a washed-up assassin living in a cabin."

"He is my son!" Arthur roared. "He is a child!"

"He is a weapon!" Sarah yelled back. "And he's about to make his choice."

From the shadows of the basement doorway, Leo stepped into the room.

The six bodyguards immediately lowered their weapons slightly, waiting for instructions.

Sarah smiled softly, holding out her left hand toward the little boy. "Leo... baby. Look at me. I know you've been confused. I had to go away to build a safe world for you. Come to mommy. Together, we can change the world."

Arthur didn't move his gun from Sarah, but his voice cracked with emotion. "Leo... stay back. Please."

Leo walked slowly toward the center of the room, standing right between his father and his mother. The rain slammed against the roof, mixing with the heavy thrum of the helicopter blades outside.

Leo looked at Sarah. "You are my mother?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Sarah said, her voice dripping with artificial warmth. "I made you. I gave you your gifts."

"And you made those bad men come to the bank today?" Leo asked.

"It was just a test, Leo. To see if you were ready."

Leo turned his head and looked at Arthur. "Dad taught me how to fish. He taught me how to ride a bike. He cried when I scraped my knee last summer."

Sarah laughed dismissively. "Weakness, Leo. Human emotion that will only hold you back."

Leo stood still for a moment. Then, slowly, he raised his right hand. Tucked inside his tiny fist was the silver buckle he had taken off Marcus’s wrist in the bank—the emblem of the Agency.

"Dad taught me one more thing," Leo whispered.