The camera opens in the Foundry’s parking lot, late at night. Most of the cars are gone, the sodium lights buzzing faintly. In the middle of the frame stands Clovis Black. No music, no flash, just six and a half feet of stillness. He doesn’t move for several seconds — just stares dead into the lens, breathing slow and heavy.

Clovis Black (low, gravel voice):
“Jack Havok stacks men like lumber. But lumber burns.”

He steps forward into the light, fists clenching at his sides.

Clovis Black:
“You don’t scare me, Outlaw. You don’t impress me. All I saw was two Birmingham boys left for dead. And when I walked through that curtain, you ran. That tells me everything.”

Clovis glances off to the side — a long pause — then back to the camera, eyes burning now.

Clovis Black:
“You wanted dogs of war? Fine. I’m the one waiting at the gate. When it opens… Jack, you’re the one getting put down.”

He doesn’t blink, doesn’t move, just lets the silence hang until the camera cuts to black.