Mahir walked away.
No one dared to stop him. Not even the wind moved.
Minutes passed.
Then—footsteps.
Orion arrived, eyes locked on Zain's battered form, lying against a wall like a shattered blade.
"Zain... what the hell happened to you?"
His voice wasn't angry. It was cold. Sharp. Like someone speaking to a fallen soldier.
"I told you not to fight Mahir yet. I warned you."
Zain didn't answer. His lips were cut. Blood still fresh.
Orion didn't ask again. He grabbed Zain's arm and pulled him up.
"Let's go. You're not dying here."
---
Hospital. Night.
Zain lay on a steel bed, breathing slow. Bandages wrapped his ribs and jaw. His fists were purple, skin broken, but the fire in his eyes—still alive.
"He took heavy hits," the doctor said. "But he'll heal. Might take time, but his body's built different."
Orion stood silent beside him.
Zain whispered through his teeth:
"I'll be back."
---
The Next Morning
Home.
Zain stepped into the hall room of his house—U-Force's hideout
He stood still, staring at the scars on the floor. The echoes of past battles. The weight of the war ahead.
Then he spoke.
"I have to rise."
No shouting. No hype. Just cold truth.
From that moment—Zain vanished from the outside world.
No college.
No texts.
No appearances.
Only training.
Brutal. Solo. Relentless.
Fists against concrete walls.
Pushups until the floor cracked.
Midnight sprints in the rain.
Blood on the mat. No complaints.
He wasn't trying to get strong.
He was trying to make sure he never lost again.
One night, Orion watched from the doorway, arms crossed.
"You're doing good, Zain," he said. "Keep going. Don't stop."
Zain didn't respond. Just kept punching.
Meanwhile...
Alice, Damiyan, Cube—all of U-Force—searched.
Zain hadn't shown up at college in days.
Whispers spread. Rumors grew.
Until finally—they all marched straight to the hideout.
Zain's home.
The hall room.
The moment they entered—they froze.
He was already there.
Sitting.
Bandages across his body. Aura thick like smoke. His posture calm, almost regal—like a man who owned the silence around him.
On the old leather sofa, Zain leaned back slightly, one arm resting on the edge.
His eyes half-lidded, cold, sharp.
It wasn't weakness.
It wasn't recovery.
It was presence.
He looked at them without moving.
"Oh," he said. "So you came. I knew you would."
Alice smirked. "You've changed. You feel… dangerous."
Zain didn't blink. "I lost that fight."
Alice raised an eyebrow. "You fought Mahir. You survived. That's not a loss."
Zain leaned forward, elbows on his knees, eyes burning.
"You don't get it. I didn't lose to Mahir. I lost to myself."
Silence crashed into the room.
Zain's voice carried like steel:
"I've always heard it—my inner voice. Every battle I won, it was guiding me.
But during that fight... I silenced it."
His fist tightened.
"And that's why I lost."
He looked at them all—Alice, Damiyan, Cube, Orion. His gang. His people.
"I'll never silence it again."
Orion stepped up beside him. "Alice. How many members do we have now?"
Alice smirked, arms folded. "We started with fifteen. But once people heard about Zain, they started coming. Strong ones. Hungry ones."
He looked at Zain.
"Now? 1000 to 1300."
Orion: "WS?"
Alice: "Still above us. Around two to three thousand."
Zain nodded once.
"I'm going back to college tomorrow. We move forward from there."
---
To Be Continued...