The Unraveling BeginsThe world is burning.I can see it unraveling in real-time—the system shaking, the balance tipping, power slipping through the cracks like water through clenched fingers. If I close my eyes, I can almost hear Julian’s voice whispering in the back of my mind. “You thought you were different?”I want to tell him yes. I want to believe that what I did was right. But when the smoke clears, the only thing left is chaos.The news channels scream the truth I dragged into the light—The Oath was never just a myth, never just a shadow in the dark. It was real, it was powerful, and now that I’ve ripped the curtain away, the world is reeling from the exposure. Governments deny their involvement. Intelligence agencies disavow knowledge. Crime syndicates scramble, some falling, some rising, and some adapting with terrifying ease.And me? I’m the man who detonated the bomb and now has to live with the fallout.The streets aren’t safe for me anymore. My name is plastered on ever

The First BetrayalPain flares in my side, sharp and burning. Blood seeps between my fingers, warm and sticky. I press my palm against the wound, gritting my teeth as I stumble forward. The cold air bites at my skin, and every breath sends fire through my ribs.I’ve been in worse situations.But this time, it’s different.Because this time, it wasn’t an enemy who pulled the trigger.It was someone I trusted.I keep moving, one foot in front of the other, my boots splashing through the rain-soaked alley. The stench of garbage and damp concrete fills my lungs, mixing with the coppery tang of my own blood. My vision blurs at the edges, but I don’t slow down.Not when I can hear them behind me.A low murmur of voices. The quick, controlled footsteps of men who know exactly what they’re doing.They’re not rushing.They think I’m already finished.I tighten my grip on the gun in my left hand, forcing my fingers to stop shaking. My right arm is useless—blood trickles down my sleeve from the

The Whisper of Riley’s NameThe message arrives at midnight.I don’t notice it at first. The night is quiet—too quiet. The city, though stitched together again under my rule, still carries the weight of its wounds. Men obey, but I see it in their eyes. The fear. The uncertainty. They wonder if I have changed if I have become something else entirely.Maybe I have.I sit in the dim glow of my office, the whiskey in my glass untouched, my mind heavier than my body. The room around me is still the same—dark wood, cold steel, a fortress of power. But something in the air shifts when my phone vibrates on the desk.A single text. No number. No trace.Was it worth it?The words are ice in my veins.My grip tightens on the glass. The whiskey sloshes but doesn’t spill.Riley.It’s not signed. No indication it’s from her. But the whisper of her name crawls into my mind, relentless, refusing to be ignored.I stare at the screen, my breath slowing.Could it be her? After all this time?I left that

The Breaking PointRiley’s voice is the only thing I hear."Was it worth it?"The words coil around my throat like a noose, tightening with every decision, every step forward into the wreckage I created.I stand in the ruins of what used to be order. The Oath is fractured—some remnants still loyal, others dead, and the rest waiting in the shadows for the next move. The city is no better. Chaos seeps into the cracks I left behind. The corrupt take what they can. The desperate cling to anything that looks like control.And here I am, standing in the center of it all, holding the pieces of something I no longer recognize."Boss."The voice pulls me back. Vieny. One of the last men still standing beside me.He gestures toward the phone in my hand. "You gonna answer that?"I glance down. Unknown number.It rings again.I don’t answer.Vieny watches me, arms crossed, waiting for a decision. A real decision. Not the half-measures I’ve been taking, not the waiting game I’ve been playing since

The Last ConfrontationThe room is dim, the air thick with dust and the scent of something old—something decaying. It feels fitting. A graveyard for the past.I step forward, boots scuffing against the concrete floor, my fingers twitching at my sides. Five of them stand in front of me. The last remnants of the Oath.Their faces are carved from stone, their postures rigid with expectation.Carter, the man in the center, watches me with the kind of gaze that sees straight through flesh and bone, cutting straight to the soul. He’s older, hardened by a life of survival, and his presence commands attention even in silence.For a long moment, no one speaks.Then, Carter exhales, slow and measured. "You took everything from us, Nathan," he says, his voice carrying the weight of something unshakable. "Stripped the Oath down to its bones. And yet, here we are."I don’t respond. I wait."You did what you set out to do," Carter continues. "You won. But tell me, does it feel like victory?"His wo