Electra never imagined one confession could rip the ground right out from under her, but Dylan’s words do exactly that. The revelation hits like a physical blow — not just shocking, but catastrophic. When Dylan admits she was the one driving the car that hit Luna, the entire narrative Electra has clung to begins to fracture. The image of Luna lying motionless on the pavement — the moment Electra believed the madness had finally ended — flashes through her mind, but now it feels wrong, incomplete.

Because Dylan’s confession doesn’t end with guilt.
It opens a door Electra never expected to face again.

Dylan’s hands shake as she relives the night, explaining how panic swallowed her whole after the impact. How she stayed hidden behind a hedge, paralyzed, watching in horror as emergency lights illuminated the street. But the detail that breaks Electra’s breath in half is whispered through Dylan’s tears:

“She was still breathing.”

Dylan remembers the oxygen mask being fitted, paramedics shouting commands, the frantic rush to get Luna into the ambulance. None of it matches Chief Baker’s official statement — the claim that Luna died instantly, that her reign of terror ended right there on the asphalt. Electra wants to deny it, to insist Dylan misinterpreted everything in her panic, but Dylan’s sincerity, her devastation, makes that impossible.

And then Dylan reveals the part she’s been too scared to say.

She never saw Luna’s body.
Not in the street.
Not at the hospital.
Not once.

All she remembers is Baker positioning himself between her and the gurney, blocking her view. Speaking urgently into his phone. Acting… wrong. Hours later, he released a perfectly packaged announcement to the public: Luna dead. Case closed. No questions tolerated.

But Dylan did overhear one thing — something she dismissed at the time as a misinterpretation. Baker whispering into his phone late that night:

“We’ll manage it. Just keep her contained.”

Now, the words take on a horrifying new meaning.

Electra feels the pieces shifting, rearranging into a truth she doesn’t want to see. The missing documentation. The sealed medical reports. Lee’s refusal to discuss Luna’s final minutes. Sheila’s strange mix of grief and suspicion. Finn’s unsettled recollection of the hospital room. Every loose thread begins tying itself together.

Because Luna Nozawa — manipulative, brilliant, terrifyingly resilient Luna — is not someone who simply shuts her eyes and accepts fate. If there was even one breath left in her… she would use it.

To hide.
To wait.
To rebuild.
To strike again.

Dylan grabs Electra’s hands, her voice trembling as she finally releases the fear she’s been harboring alone:

“What if Baker lied? What if Luna’s still out there… watching us?”

The silence that follows is thick, electrified, suffocating. Electra imagines Luna somewhere in the shadows of Los Angeles — injured, healing, plotting. If Dylan is right, then nothing is safe. Not their jobs. Not their families. Not their futures.

And the question that rises is the one no one wants to face:

If Luna survived…
is she preparing an explosive revenge,
or a silent, surgical attack no one will see coming?

What do you think, fans?