2025-07-14 06:27:57Ares stood alone in the ruined warehouse, the taste of gunpowder sharp on his tongue.Blood dripped from his knuckles, mixing with the cold rain leaking through holes in the rusted roof.Around him, the bodies of men who thought they could bury him a second time sprawled like broken marionettes.Mira stepped out from behind a stack of crates, breath misting in the bitter air.A bruise bloomed under her eye, a cut split her lip, but her grin stayed unbroken.“They’ll crawl back to their master in body bags,” she rasped.Ares didn’t smile.He flexed his fingers, feeling every crack in the bone, every promise that the pain wouldn’t end until this city remembered his name.He dropped his gaze to the corpse at his boots.A burner phone buzzed weakly in the dead man’s pocket.He stooped, wiped blood on his sleeve, checked the flickering screen.One name curled his lips, almost a grin if he had warmth left in him.Jonas Lin.Mira peered at the screen, rain dripping from her hair.“Jonas still breathes?Cockroach has nine lives.”
“He’s the start,” Ares said, voice gravel.“He launders every secret.Every filthy coin.”
Outside, thunder rumbled.Wind shoved through broken windows, howling through rusted beams.Mira watched him pocket the phone, eyes tracing torn knuckles and raw skin.“You’re bleeding.”
He ignored her.Pain was memory.He welcomed memory.“They’ll send more,” she said, brushing wet hair from her forehead.“Dogs with sharper teeth.”
“Let them come,” Ares muttered.He stepped past her, boots crunching glass, pushing through the half-collapsed doorway into the night.Outside, rain hit him like needles.Blood streaked down his neck.He breathed deep.The city smelled like oil, wet asphalt, and secrets rotting under neon lights.“They can bring wolves,” he called back.“I’ll hunt them too.”
They reached the battered SUV hidden behind rusting shipping containers.Its paint was dull under the streetlight, bullet holes patched with tape.Mira slid behind the wheel, wincing as bruised ribs reminded her what loyalty cost.Ares climbed in, door groaning on its hinges.Mira flicked on the wipers.Neon signs smeared across the glass like bruises on skin.The city pulsed outside, alive and rotting all at once.Neither spoke for blocks.The engine’s low growl and the wipers’ slow sweep filled the silence.Mira broke it.“You could’ve stayed gone, you know,” she said, voice brittle, eyes fixed ahead.Ares turned, stare pinning her.“I did,” he said.“They dragged me back in chains.”
She glanced over, lip twitching despite the cut.“No.You clawed out.They buried you, and you dug yourself up.”
A corner of his mouth twitched, not a smile.He checked his gun’s clip, metal clicking steady under fingertips gone numb.Thunder rattled the windows.Mira drummed her fingers on the wheel.“Where’s Jonas hiding?”
“The Ivory Tower,” Ares said.“Too fat on secrets to hide anywhere else.”
She scoffed.“Figures.Velvet rope.Bought muscle.”
“He thinks money keeps him safe.”
“Money only makes the coffin prettier,” Mira muttered.They parked two streets from the Tower, in an alley where streetlights died young.Gold light spilled through tinted glass, bleeding onto rain-slick sidewalks.Limousines idled at the curb.Suits with expensive watches laughed under umbrellas, blind to wolves in the dark.“You’re not going in like this,” Mira said, side-eyeing bruises blooming along his jaw.“I’m not going in,” Ares said.He leaned across her, breath ghosting her cheek as he popped the glove box.From the dark he pulled a small flash drive, turned it once between bloodied fingers.Held it up like a bullet.“You are.”
She stared at it, then him.Rain drummed on the roof.“Seriously?”
“Slip it in his phone.Smile.Laugh.He’ll believe what you sell.”
Mira snorted, winced at her lip.“And you?”
“I’ll be there when he remembers me.”
She leaned back, shaking her head.“Every time I think you’ve scraped the bottom of this grudge, you dig deeper.”
Words were wasted on the dead — Jonas was already dead.She cracked the window, letting rain wash her face clean.Checked her reflection in the mirror, wiped blood from her lip with her wrist.“Try not to bleed out before I’m back,” she said, slipping the drive into her jacket.“Don’t get comfortable,” Ares said, eyes ahead.“You’re my ride out.”
She winked, grin sharp despite the bruise, then stepped out into the storm.He watched her heels click across wet pavement until the club’s doors swallowed her up.Ares stepped out too, hood low, shoulders hunched against cold.Boots splashed through neon puddles.He drifted through a back alley, climbing a rusted fire escape, each rung a promise that nothing could hold him down.Rain soaked him to the bone.He welcomed it.Cold sharpened the thing he’d become.Below, the Tower pulsed with bass that vibrated through old bricks.He found his vantage under a dying billboard.From here, he watched hungry bodies line up, pay too much for illusions they’d drown in cheap champagne.His earpiece crackled.Mira’s whisper: “Inside.Corner booth.Same slime grin.”
“Get close,” Ares breathed.Minutes crawled like rats.He watched her slip through the club — bruised lips, practiced laugh, eyes like broken glass.Jonas Lin leaned back, a fat king on a rotten throne, tapping thick fingers on marble.His grin dripped warmth on fools too blind to see the fangs behind it.Mira slid beside him, fingers brushing his shoulder.Jonas didn’t flinch as she slipped the drive under his phone case, mind drowning in his own poison.“Done,” she breathed.Ares moved.Down the ladder, boots splashing.Through the alley.Past drunk doormen who wouldn’t remember his face.He ghosted into the back corridor, gun cold in his grip, each step silent on velvet carpet worth more than a grave.Jonas looked up too late.Ares grabbed his collar, yanking him from his booth.The laughter died.Music thundered on, blind and deaf.Mira stepped aside, eyes locked on Ares as he dragged Jonas down the hall.The fixer’s polished shoes slipped on marble.“You—You can’t—” Jonas gasped.Ares pressed him to the wall, voice soft as a knife.“Your secrets belong to me now.”
Jonas whimpered when Ares’s fist cracked the marble beside his head.The fixer’s knees buckled.Outside, thunder rolled over the city that thought it could bury its ghost.Ares leaned in, lips brushing the fixer’s ear.“This is my grave,” he whispered.“And I’m alive in it.”
The night swallowed them as Mira stepped out behind him, her smile cold as rain.The war had returned.So had its god.
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ASH IN THE VEINS
The steel slab still stood at the western ridgeline when Ares returned at midday. The sun was higher now, carving the message deeper into the scorched metal with every flicker of heat. He didn’t touch it. Didn’t have to. The words were burned behind his eyes.We are not your past. We are your consequence.He stood there a moment longer, wind tugging at the collar of his coat, the dry scent of dust and burnt wire rising from the earth. Reyes approached from behind, silent, until the crunch of his boots gave him away.“They’re not just warning us,” he said. “They’re staging something. Making a show of memory.”Ares nodded slowly. “And calling it justice.”Reyes looked out toward the hills. “You think it’s just Vale?”“No.” Ares didn’t blink. “I think it’s what Vale left behind. A creed. A code. A wound still bleeding after all this time.”Reyes crossed his arms. “I’ve buried too many men to be haunted by ghosts.”Ares looked at him. “Then start digging again. Because this war... it didn
THOSE WHO REMEMBER
Because now, they had something worth defending.And for Ares Kai - the man who once lived only to destroy - that made him more dangerous than ever.The rooftop wind brushed over him, sharp with the chill of dusk but filled with the scent of food cooking in shared courtyards and the murmur of distant laughter. It was the kind of night that made a man forget, if only for a moment, how much blood had stained his past.But forgetting wasn’t an option.Mira stood at his side in silence. Her hand had long since slipped from his, but her presence hadn’t. She leaned against the railing, watching the city breathe. Her eyes were calm, but her voice, when it came, held a quiet weight.“Do you think they’ll come here? The ones watching?”He didn’t answer right away.Then, “Not yet. But they’ve taken notice.”She tilted her head. “Of you?”“No,” he said. “Of us.”Mira glanced back at the glowing blocks of Lin City - at the rebuilt shelters, the lights flickering in the old Assembly Hall, the hum
THE WEIGHT OF STILLNESS
Ares didn’t move.He sat by Elijah’s bedside long after the boy had turned back into sleep, his small hands tucked beneath his cheek, his breaths soft and untroubled. The notebook lay closed beside them - those sketches still etched into Ares’ mind.That last drawing... the three of them standing beneath a sun not yet drawn. No smoke. No sirens. No shadows clawing at the edge of their peace. Just presence.Ares leaned forward, elbows braced on his knees, his head buried in his hands. His back ached from old wounds. His fingers were calloused from war. But none of that compared to the pressure behind his ribs now - the unfamiliar weight of not having to fight.Outside, the windowpane rattled gently in the breeze. There was no storm tonight. No cries. No coded transmissions. Just wind brushing across the roof and the distant clatter of tools as the early workers began their shifts.Mira’s door was still ajar across the hall, warm light spilling through the gap. He could have gone to her
EMBERS AND ROOTS
Mira didn’t move for a long time.She sat cross-legged on the floor, her arms resting on her knees, eyes fixed on the sleeping boy and the man beside him. The only sound was the low hum of the generator outside and the steady breath of a child who finally, finally, had no reason to be afraid.Ares didn’t speak either. He leaned back against the wall, knees bent, one hand resting protectively near Elijah’s shoulder, the other slack on his thigh. Every now and then, his eyes flickered open - checking, listening - but the tension he used to wear like armor had softened into something else.Stillness.Not weakness. Not surrender.Just the absence of running.Mira eventually pushed herself up, bones stiff, and moved to sit beside Ares. He shifted slightly, making room, careful not to wake the boy.They didn’t touch - not yet. But their shoulders were close enough to share warmth.“You should sleep too,” she murmured.“I will,” Ares said. “Just... not yet.”She nodded.A long breath passed
THE PROMISE OF STAYING
The Assembly Hall was quiet the next morning.Not silent - there were distant boots on tile, quiet murmurs of volunteers laying cables and pinning up maps -but the kind of quiet that came after storms. The kind you earned. Ares stood near the north-facing window, watching as the mist lifted off the shattered rooftops of Lin City.Behind him, Elijah tugged at his sleeve.“Is this where they argue?” he asked.Ares smirked. “Sometimes. Mostly, they try to listen.”Elijah nodded solemnly, like that was harder.The boy wore a scarf too big for him and boots slightly too worn. His hair still stuck up in wild tufts from sleep, and he held The Little Prince under one arm like it was a secret weapon. Ares rested a steady hand on his son’s back as they stepped inside.Some of the council members were already seated. Kara gave a quick wave. The woman from the South End was bouncing her baby with one hand and flipping through ration figures with the other. Hawk stood by the coffee dispenser, pour
THE WEIGHT OF PEACE
The Assembly Hall was quiet the next morning.Not silent - there were distant boots on tile, quiet murmurs of volunteers laying cables and pinning up maps - but the kind of quiet that came after storms. The kind you earned. Ares stood near the north-facing window, watching as the mist lifted off the shattered rooftops of Lin City.Behind him, Elijah tugged at his sleeve.“Is this where they argue?” he asked.Ares smirked. “Sometimes. Mostly, they try to listen.”Elijah nodded solemnly, like that was harder.The boy wore a scarf too big for him and boots slightly too worn. His hair still stuck up in wild tufts from sleep, and he held The Little Prince under one arm like it was a secret weapon. Ares rested a steady hand on his son’s back as they stepped inside.Some of the council members were already seated. Kara gave a quick wave. The woman from the South End was bouncing her baby with one hand and flipping through ration figures with the other. Hawk stood by the coffee dispenser, pou
