𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 - 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚠

Time to dig some graves.

Deckard's POV

For a split second, I froze. Han Lue... alive? The man I'd put in the ground years ago. Ghosts like him don't come back for small talk. They come back for payback.

He stood there, calm as if we were old mates.
"I have something to talk to you about."

I didn't bother hiding my disdain.
"The only reason a dead man shows up at my door... is revenge."

Before he could blink, I grabbed his sweater, yanked him inside, flipped him flat on his back, and slammed the door shut. Dom's crew wasn't getting anywhere near this.

Han reached for a bag of spilled snacks on the floor and dusted himself off. I turned back, eyes narrowing.

"Should've stayed dead. I don't like repeating myself," I said, voice low and cold.

He had the audacity to pant and mutter, "You ruined my snacks."

That was it. No hesitation. I moved in—kicks, punches, elbows—precision strikes, each one harder than the last. But he wasn't striking back and just deflecting, keeping distance.

"Relax. I don't want to fight you," Han said, calm as ever.

I smirked, dark and dangerous. "Then this'll be over quick."

One clean spin kick—sent him crashing into the heavy bag. The chain rattled, metal groaned, and his yell echoed around the room. I didn't stop—punch, kick, elbow—relentless.

I raised my arm to strike again—then the room exploded with light. Headlights? Camera flash? Didn't matter.

Instinct kicked in. I dove behind the wall as the heavy bag went flying, smacking hard against the floor. Han stayed in the open—still calm, still standing.

Then—movement. Shadows in the doorway. Armed soldiers.

I move first. Grab one by the vest, smash him into the wall, bounce him off the car hood, strip his gun, and drop another with a shot to the leg. The knife comes free, and I drive it into a soldier's neck. Clean. Quick.

Another one charges. I rip his rifle free, reverse it, and hammer him across the jaw before dumping him through the windshield.

Han's fighting now too, smooth and efficient, taking down two and got a gun. 

I press a gun to his chest before he can start the engine. "You bring more men to kill me, to leave my children without a father". More men?"

Han growls, "They're trying to kill me, too."

More shadows swarm the room. I glance at Han. "Looks like we've got more company."

I lower the gun. "You still drive?"

Han said, deadpan. "What do you think?"

I hide behind the wall, and I snap a grenade off a soldier's vest. As Han got behind the wheel.

I floor it while I hurl the smoke grenade, clouding the room. Soldiers blind-fire. I'm already moving—kicking one in the knee, smashing another with the rifle butt, then dropping three more before reloading and laying down covering fire. Han drove the car into the soldier, making them crash into the floor. As I fought and took a gun and aimed it at Han and shot the person behind him 

Han yells, "No, no, no—" as I shoot past him, taking out a soldier at his back.

I shrug. "Now we're even."

Then—another voice. Calm. Confident. Feminine.
"Well, I arrive just in time."

Every gun in the room swivels. Helmet comes off—and there she is. Isabella Shaw