A ruined shoreline burns under a black sky. The remnants of Ghost’s base smolder as waves crash against debris. Norman Ryder rises from the wreckage, bloodied but standing. Across the sand, Hunters line up behind Daryl Manson, weapons raised. James struggles nearby. Norman pulls him up just as rifles lock onto them. Norman reaches for his gun—gone. Daryl smirks. No more chances. He tells Norman this ends now—Ghost dies here. James and Norman exchange a glance. No plan. No weapons. Norman steps forward anyway. He tells Daryl he will never be a true Hunter—and there won’t be another tyrant after him. Daryl laughs. Norman nods. A shot rings out. Killshot stands behind Daryl, rifle smoking. Daryl collapses, dropping Norman’s old bat. Norman grabs it and unleashes everything—strike after strike, years of rage crashing down. He turns to the Hunters and roars: if they follow anyone, it’s him. Daryl crawls, barely alive. A boot slams onto his back. Marc. Norman raises the bat to finish it—but Marc stops him. Killing Daryl changes nothing. Keeping him alive sends a message. They need leverage against Wraith. Norman refuses. Daryl deserves death. James agrees. Marc doesn’t bend. Daryl lives—in a cell, forever. Norman swings anyway. Marc knocks him back. Mitch and Ellie arrive as the tension fractures the group. Norman stands, breathing heavy, then makes his choice. He won’t follow Marc anymore. The Hunters will answer to him—and they’ll fight Wraith their own way. First, he’ll help Tobey find his sister. Marc warns him he’s making a mistake. Norman doesn’t look back. He walks into the fire with the Hunters behind him.
