From Ex-con To Supreme God Of War

"We are ten minutes away from Valmoria airspace, General," Commander Ethan said, standing at strict attention inside the luxury cabin of the private jet.

"The runway ground team has cleared the landing strip. The city officials, local law enforcement commanders, and high-ranking military officers are all waiting to give you a full official welcome."

Thomas Green sat in the heavy leather seat, his tall, muscular frame still as a stone statue.

He did not look away from the oval window.

Below the plane, thick clouds hung low and heavy over the skyline, dark with incoming rain. Beneath those storm clouds sat Valmoria, the city that had stolen his youth, murdered his family, and left him to bleed in the dark.

"Cancel the welcome reception," Thomas said. His voice was low and quiet.

"Tell the pilot to land near the private hangar. I want the tarmac clear. I am not returning to this city for speeches, fake smiles, or useless honor."

Ethan blinked in surprise, stepping forward slightly with his head bowed.

"Sir, with all due respect, you have been gone for seven long years. The entire country knows your name now. You are the God of War, the invincible commander who saved the northern borders from total destruction. The leaders of Valmoria want to bow before you to seek your favor."

"Let them bow to someone who cares about their political games," Thomas replied coldly, his jaw tightening.

"I did not bleed on freezing battlefields for seven years just to shake hands with corrupt men in polished boots. My business in Valmoria is personal, and I will handle it my own way."

"Understood, General," Ethan said quickly, standing even straighter. "Your heavy armored vehicle is already prepped inside the transport bay. My squad of elite guards is ready to form a full security escort behind your motorcade."

"No escort," Thomas ordered, turning his gaze from the window to look Ethan dead in the eyes.

"I go alone."

Ethan’s eyes widened with surprise. "Alone, Sir? Valmoria is not a peaceful city anymore. The underground syndicate operates deep in the shadows, and local elite families hold terrifying control over the city streets. If anyone recognizes who you are without your full military detail—"

"They will recognize who I am when they are lying at my feet," Thomas cut him off without raising his voice.

He ran a large, scarred hand over his short hair, his sharp face cold. "Seven years ago, my ex-wife Alice Johnson begged me on her knees to take the blame for her brother Edward. She cried bitter tears. She swore on her life that she loved me. She promised she would use every penny of the Johnson family wealth to get me out of prison."

Ethan remained completely silent, knowing better than to interrupt when the General spoke of his buried past.

"I took the fall like a blind fool," Thomas continued, his eyes darkening.

"I sat in a damp, freezing prison cell for an entire year while Edward walked free after hitting a helpless woman with his car and leaving her in a coma. And how did Alice reward my sacrifice?”

“When war broke out, she used her family's connections to draft me directly to the frontlines in place of her brother once again. She threw me into a meat grinder, laughed at my misery, and divorced me for another rich man."

"The Johnson family will pay for every ounce of pain they caused you, General," Ethan promised fiercely, his fists clenching.

"We have gathered all their business records, their hidden debts, and their illegal contracts. They believe they belong to high society now, but we can reduce their entire empire to ashes with a single phone call."

"Reducing them to ashes with a phone call is too merciful," Thomas said softly, a dark glint flashing in his eyes.

"I want to look into Alice's eyes when she realizes the man she threw away like trash is the man who holds her entire life in his hand."

When the private jet finally landed, Thomas stood up smoothly, adjusting the heavy collar of his simple dark coat.

He wore no sparkling medals, no high-ranking military badges, and no golden shoulder pads. He looked like an ordinary civilian returning home, but his posture held the terrifying, quiet force of an incoming disaster.

Before Thomas could take a single step toward the cabin exit door, a low, sharp vibration hummed from deep inside his coat pocket.

Ethan reached toward his sidearm instinctively at the sudden movement, but Thomas held up a single hand to stop him.

Thomas reached inside his coat and pulled out an old, cheap button phone.

The plastic casing was scratched and faded from years of wear. It was not his military satellite device. It was an old personal phone he had kept charged, secured, and hidden in his coat pocket for seven whole years.

Only one person in the entire world had this phone number.

Thomas pressed the green answer button and brought the receiver to his ear.

"Hello?"

A sharp, ragged gasp echoed through the small speaker, immediately followed by the sound of heavy, muffled crying.

"Thomas?" a tiny, trembling voice whispered desperately through the static. "Thomas... is... is that really you? Please tell me it's you..."

Every muscle in Thomas’s body locked up instantly. The cold, calculating composure of the God of War shattered, replaced by a sudden, violent surge of panic.

"Mia?"

"Thomas!" Mia sobbed softly, her voice terrified and barely audible above a frantic whisper.

"I don't know where I am. It's so dark... I can't see anything. My hands are tied so tight with rough rope."

"Mia, listen to my voice right now," Thomas said urgently, his heart slamming against his chest like a war drum.

"Take a deep breath and stay calm. Talk to me. Where are you? What happened to you?"

"They... they dragged me away two hours ago," Mia whispered.

"Three men in black suits broke through my door. I managed to hide this tiny phone inside my shoe before they grabbed my arms. I remembered... I remembered you gave this to me seven years ago before you disappeared. You told me to call this number if I was ever in trouble. "

"You did the right thing, Mia. You were so brave," Thomas said, his voice straining with a sudden, dangerous rage. "Tell me what you hear around you right now. Are you still inside the city limits?"

"I hear water... like waves smashing against heavy metal," Mia whispered, her breath hitching wildly.

"And I hear heavy boots walking outside the metal door. Thomas, I overheard them talking in the van earlier! They said...they said they are taking me to a secret market tonight. They said rich businessmen and dirty politicians pay millions of dollars for orphan girls who have no family to come looking for them."

Thomas’s hands shook with raw, overwhelming fury.

Mia Wright is twenty-four years old now.

She was the only sweet, innocent light he had known during his miserable years growing up in the orphanage after his family was murdered.

She was the sister of his heart.

"Listen to me clearly, Mia," Thomas spoke into the phone, his tone dropping low.

"No one is going to sell you. No one is going to touch a single hair on your head. Do you remember the promise I made to you at the orphanage gate before I left?"

"You... you promised you would come back," Mia wept quietly into the speaker. "You swore you would come back and make my life better..."

"I am standing in Valmoria right now," Thomas said, his voice rock solid.

"I am coming for you right now. Keep the phone hidden under your clothes. Do not make a sound."

Suddenly, a loud, violent bang echoed through the phone as a heavy iron door was kicked open on Mia's end.

"Hey! What the hell are you doing over there?" a rough, cruel male voice barked furiously over the line.

"No! Please! Stay away from me." Mia screamed in absolute terror.

"You little bitch! You had a phone hidden under your dress?" the man roared.

The awful sound of a hard, violent slap echoed clearly through the speaker, followed immediately by Mia’s painful, agonized cry as she hit the cold floor.

"Mia!" Thomas shouted, his eyes turning blood red with fury.

The phone was snatched up off the ground by the kidnapper.

"I don't know who the hell you are, buddy," the kidnapper sneered. "But if you think you're her little savior, you're way too late. She's being tossed into an iron shipping cage right now. In less than two hours, she'll belong to the highest bidder at the docks. Try to come after us, and we'll chop her body into pieces and throw her to the ocean."

The line cut off abruptly, replaced by a harsh, hollow dial tone.

Thomas stood completely motionless inside the plane cabin. He squeezed his hand so tightly around the cheap phone.

Ethan stepped forward instantly, his face pale from hearing the caller's harsh threat.

"General. Give the order right now. I will call the military police and put a complete blockade on the entire Valmoria dock district within five minutes! We can deploy two tactical battalions to breach the site—"

"No," Thomas cut him off, his voice quiet, calm, and terrifyingly cold.

"If military forces surround the dockyard, those scumbags will panic and execute her before our soldiers even cross the perimeter fence."

"Sir, you cannot ride into a high-level human trafficking stronghold by yourself." Ethan argued frantically, fear for his commander clear in his eyes.

"They will have dozens of heavily armed mercenaries guarding an operation of that size."

Thomas turned his head slowly, looking at Ethan with eyes so dark.

"Then dozens of mercenaries are going to die tonight," Thomas said softly.

He reached down, pulled a long black military combat knife from beneath his seat, and slid it smoothly into his belt holster. He turned on his heel and shoved the heavy jet door open with a single push.

As Thomas stepped onto the metal exit stairs, his main personal phone vibrated in his pocket with a new text message from an unknown number.

He flipped the screen open.

It was a clear photograph of Mia tied tightly to a wooden chair inside a dark cargo container.

Below the photograph was a single brutal message: She gets loaded onto the ship in thirty minutes, hero. Bring cash to bid, or bring a bag to pick up her bones.

Thomas stared at the glowing screen for three seconds, his jaw setting tight as a ruthless, terrifying smile spread across his face.

He shoved the phone into his coat pocket, stepped off the stairs into the blinding rain, and sprinted into the dark Valmoria night.