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THE CRACK IN POWER

2025-08-21 15:21:55

Far from the quiet hospital, the city streets burned with chaos. Under the unforgiving afternoon sun, smoke twisted upward, curling into the sky from overturned trash cans and burning tires.

Fires licked the air, their black plumes mixing with dust. The sharp reek of petrol hung heavy, mingling with sweat and fear.

The chants of the protesters rolled like thunder down the avenues, bouncing between glass buildings. “Down with Orion!” they roared. “No more chains!” Banners and placards swayed high, painted crudely with Orion’s name, marked with words of hate and fury. The mob surged forward and back like a single living beast, unpredictable and hungry.

Ross moved through the chaos like a shadow. His hood was drawn low, but daylight caught the hard lines of his jaw and the cold intensity of his eyes.

Around him, six loyal men threaded silently through the press of bodies. They did not shout. They did not wave banners. They blended into the tide, like ghosts among the restless crowd.

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THE VELVET ENTRANCE
The heart of the city gleamed beneath the afternoon sun. Towering structures of glass and marble pierced the sky, casting long shadows across the financial district. At the center of it all stood the colossal building—sleek, commanding, a fortress of commerce. Every transaction of worth, every investment of weight, pulsed through its arteries. It wasn’t just a bank; it was the very heartbeat of Westwood’s economy.Its vast steps shone like polished stone, worn smooth by the tread of countless investors, diplomats, and visionaries who had passed through its doors. Golden insignias caught the sunlight and reflected brilliance across the wide plaza. For those who sought influence, for those who sought fortune, entry into this building was like stepping into the sanctum of gods.And Evander Velcan walked toward it like one of those gods.His stride was smooth, unhurried, yet every motion spoke of control. He wore a tailored charcoal coat, its edges catching faint traces of light, and h
THE CRACK IN POWER
Far from the quiet hospital, the city streets burned with chaos. Under the unforgiving afternoon sun, smoke twisted upward, curling into the sky from overturned trash cans and burning tires. Fires licked the air, their black plumes mixing with dust. The sharp reek of petrol hung heavy, mingling with sweat and fear.The chants of the protesters rolled like thunder down the avenues, bouncing between glass buildings. “Down with Orion!” they roared. “No more chains!” Banners and placards swayed high, painted crudely with Orion’s name, marked with words of hate and fury. The mob surged forward and back like a single living beast, unpredictable and hungry.Ross moved through the chaos like a shadow. His hood was drawn low, but daylight caught the hard lines of his jaw and the cold intensity of his eyes. Around him, six loyal men threaded silently through the press of bodies. They did not shout. They did not wave banners. They blended into the tide, like ghosts among the restless crowd. E
THE SHADOW OF TIME
The hospital corridor stretched quiet and cold, but inside Jayden’s chest, his heartbeat was heavy and fast. He held his phone close to his ear, waiting for Ross to speak. The truth had already started to show itself, but Jayden knew there was more hidden beneath.“Which of the over beings did you spot?” Jayden asked, his voice was low and sharp.There was a long pause. Jayden could almost hear Ross breathing on the other side. When Ross finally spoke, his tone carried a careful weight.“Sir,” Ross said, “I saw something strange in the protests. Something none of the ordinary people noticed. Patterns. Ripples in the air. People moving too quickly, or too slowly, as if time itself was… bending.”Jayden stopped walking. His hand pressed hard against the wall, his mind started racing.Ross continued. “I saw shadows split away from bodies. I saw chants repeat, though lips only moved once. It was like the same second played itself again. The normal protesters didn’t see it—they thought it
WHISPERS IN THE STREETS
The hospital corridor was quiet, but Jayden’s chest was not. His heart beat faster as the line connected. He pressed his phone against his ear, feeling the faint hum of static before the voice came through.“Hello sir,” the man on the other end greeted, his tone was firm and respectful.Jayden closed his eyes for a second. He needed clarity. He needed the truth, not rumors, not news headlines possibly twisted by politics. And there was only one person he trusted to give him that—Ross, one of his men on the streets.“Ross,” Jayden said at last, his voice was low but steady. “Do you have news for me?”There was a short silence before Ross answered. His voice carried the weight of exhaustion, the sound of someone who had walked through smoke and shouting crowds.“Sir, the atmosphere is… bad,” Ross said. “Chaotic. Streets are filled with people. They carry banners, some with flames, some shouting for Orion’s downfall. Shops are closing early, glass windows broken, trash burning on the cor
ORDER'S IN THE ASHES
The hospital room was no longer quiet. The baby whimpered softly, Stella’s arms were rocking him against her chest, but her gaze stayed locked on the television screen where Orion banners burned.The flames reflected in her tired eyes, and for the first time in days, her composure threatened to crack.She exhaled, steadying herself. She could not afford weakness—not now. With her free hand she reached for the tablet resting on the side table. Its cold glass lit up beneath her touch, throwing pale light across her face. Swiftly, she opened the secured channel reserved for Orion’s upper council.Her fingers danced across the screen. One after another, she pulled the leaders into connection: the leaders of operations, administration, security, logistics. The very core of Orion Dynamics flickered to life in the darkened hospital room. Faces appeared in small windows, tired and strained, with shadows under their eyes.“Good evening, everyone." She began. "I wish this call were under calm
A CITY ON EDGE
The television screen flickered inside the quiet hospital room. The baby slept in his cot, but the world outside refused to sleep.“Breaking news across Westwood tonight,” the anchor’s steady voice filled the air, each word was heavy, “mass protests have spread beyond the capital and into the surrounding districts. What began as peaceful demonstrations over corporate malpractice has now exploded into something far greater.”Jayden sat rigid in the chair, his fists tightening on his knees. He had seen wars, but this—this was different. This was the city turning against itself. Stella’s tired eyes were glued to the screen as well, her lips pressed into a thin line.The screen shifted to shaky footage from a drone. A sea of bodies filled Westwood’s main plaza, holding signs high above their heads. The words were bold and furious:“No More Powers!”“Families or Tyrants?”“Stop Playing God!”The chants rolled like thunder:“Down with Orion! Down with Bowen! Down with Khyber!”The anchor’s

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THE VELVET ENTRANCE