Reversal Of Fate: From A Pawn To A Mafia Billionaire

The Ember’s Path

The square was a graveyard, its ash thick with the ghosts of the concord. Jason stood alone, his broken knife clutched in a trembling hand, the mill’s rubble at his back. Yara’s body lay still, her blade beside her, her final words—“Find another way”—etched into his mind like a wound. The haze pulsed at the horizon, its silver tide faint but alive, mocking his survival. The concord was gone, its thread snapped, its fire snuffed out. But Jason was still here, a last ember in a world of ash.

His chest ached, not just from wounds but from guilt. He saw Callen’s bloody grin, the engineer’s hands splicing wires in the net’s final days. They’d stood together in the Wing’s first stand, their anchors humming, their resolve shared. “We’ll rebuild it,” Callen had said, his voice bright with hope. Now Callen was dead, his signal a failure that birthed monsters. Jason’s choice had burned them all—Lira, Kess, the children, Yara. The net’s warmth was a ghost, and his own heartbeat was too loud, too