The Weight of MemoryThe past never fades. It lingers in the quiet moments, in the space between heartbeats, in the echo of footsteps long since silenced. I thought I could outrun it, bury it beneath new decisions, new battles—but the past is patient. It waits.And now, it finds me here, in a nameless café in a city that doesn't care who I am.The rain outside is relentless, hammering against the windows and drumming against the pavement in a rhythmic pulse. The café is nearly empty. A couple of tired workers are in the corner, and a barista is checking their phone behind the counter. No one looks at me. No one whispers my name.For the first time in years, I am no one.Or at least, I try to be.My reflection stares back at me from the window—hollow eyes, a face carved by too many choices. The coffee in front of me has gone cold, untouched. I should leave. Keep moving. But something keeps me here, rooted to this spot as if waiting for something I can’t name.Then the door chimes. A gu

The Whisper of Julian’s VoiceThe blood on my hands won’t wash away.I stand in front of the cracked bathroom mirror, cold water running over my fingers, turning pink as it spirals down the drain. My shoulder burns where the bullet grazed me—just a little deeper and I wouldn’t be standing here. I tore my shirt and wrapped the wound tight, but it was a crude job. The pain is a constant reminder—tonight wasn’t a victory.Just another step down the path.I look up at my reflection. The face staring back is mine, but not the one I remember. The shadows under my eyes run deep, carved by sleepless nights. My jaw is set in a way I don’t recognize anymore. My hands tremble for just a second before I curl them into fists."You’re getting sloppy, Nathan."The voice isn’t real. I know that.But it’s there, whispering at the edge of my mind, curling like smoke around my thoughts. Julian’s voice.I close my eyes. I shouldn’t entertain it. But I do."Tell me, did you hesitate? Did you waste time th

The Reunion That Shouldn’t BeI never believed in ghosts, but Riley standing in front of me felt like one. A haunting. A punishment. A reminder of everything I ruined.The air between us was thick with things left unsaid, but she shattered the silence with a single sentence."Tell me," she said, her voice quiet but sharp enough to cut through me. "Was it worth it?"My throat went dry. My hands curled into fists at my sides, not in anger, but in some desperate attempt to keep myself standing. Was it worth it? The choices, the betrayal, the pain that led us here?I should have had an answer. Instead, I stood there, my silence speaking for me.Her lips twisted into something between a smirk and a grimace. "You don’t know, do you?" she whispered. "You did all of this, burned everything to the ground, and you can’t even tell me if it was worth it."I inhaled sharply, forcing myself to look at her, really look at her. Time hadn’t softened her—it had only made her sharper, like a blade honed

The Shadow WarSomewhere in the city, a war was brewing. And for once, The Oath wasn’t the biggest threat.I should’ve known.The second Riley came back into my life, the second she spoke their name out loud, something inside me shifted. Not just the past clawing its way to the surface—but the sense that I wasn’t prepared for what was coming.I never was.We met at an old warehouse near the docks, a place untouched by time and forgotten by the city. Rusted shipping containers loomed like tombstones, the salty breeze thick with the scent of decay. I leaned against a steel beam, watching Riley pace the length of the room."Talk to me." My voice was even, but tension coiled in my chest.She ran a hand through her hair, frustration tightening her features. "We’re too late."My stomach twisted. "Explain.""The Oath isn’t the problem anymore," she said. "Something else is moving in the dark—something bigger. More dangerous.""That’s not possible," I said automatically.Riley let out a sharp

The Final BetrayalBetrayal doesn’t always come with a knife in the back.Sometimes, it’s a whisper in the dark. A hesitation where there shouldn’t be one. A choice made long before you ever saw it coming.I should’ve seen it coming.The warehouse is cold, the air thick with the metallic scent of old blood and oil. The kind of place where things get buried—bodies, secrets, mistakes.And maybe, by the end of the night, me.I stand in the center, gun heavy in my grip, eyes locked on the man in front of me.Cade Voss.Smiling like he already knows how this ends."You really think you can win?" he asks, tilting his head."Winning isn’t the point." I step forward, slow and deliberate. "This ends. Tonight."Cade chuckles, the sound rich with amusement. "Oh, Nathan. Still pretending you have a choice."I don’t give him the satisfaction of a response.Because he’s wrong.I don’t pretend.I know.My finger tightens on the trigger—And then the door opens.And the world tilts.Because the perso