Begins
Samaira stared at Mark, stunned. The trembling in her hands slowly spread through her entire body. Her father coughed blood, struggling to stay conscious. The night air smelled of dirt, steel, and death.
"Mark…" Samaira whispered, her voice barely audible. Suddenly, the years they spent together flashed before her — the laughter, the trust, the warmth she believed was real. "Was all of it a lie?"
Mark couldn't look at her. His jaw clenched as he wiped his face with the back of his hand. "No. I wish it were that simple."
The voice behind them snapped again, louder and filled with impatience:
"Mark! This hesitation will cost you. That man helped butcher your mother— your sisters— your world! End him!"
Samaira's father raised his head, blood running down his neck. "Listen to him, boy," he rasped. "Do what you came to do. End it."
Mark's eyes widened with disbelief. "You're not even going to defend yourself?"
The older man smirked weakly. "There's nothing to defend. We did what we did. Your family had too much power. The world couldn't breathe." He coughed again, staining the dirt red. "And you were never part of the plan. We didn't know you survived."
Samaira's breath caught in her throat. "Dad… you knew?"
Her father's silence said everything.
Samaira's knees gave way as she collapsed, the truth hitting her like a blade. "You let me love him," she whispered. "You let me stand beside him… knowing…"
Mark's head lowered, shoulders shaking. "So it's true."
The man behind Mark stepped forward. His face was hidden beneath a hood, his voice cold and metallic. "Enough talk. Finish him."
Mark finally turned, his eyes blazing. "I said shut up!"
The hooded figure paused, surprised by the outburst. Mark tightened his grip on the sword — but instead of striking, he threw it aside. The metal clattered across the ground, echoing through the dead night.
Samaira looked up, stunned. "What are you doing?"
"Something I wish someone had done for me," Mark said. He turned to the hooded man. "Revenge ends here."
The figure scoffed. "Revenge doesn't end. Revenge *consumes*. The only reason you're breathing is because I saved you that night. Don't forget your purpose."
Samaira's father's eyes widened. "That voice… you—"
Before he could finish, the hooded man drew a gun and aimed it at him.
Everything moved at once.
Samaira screamed.
Mark lunged forward.
A gunshot tore through the air.
Silence followed.
For a moment, nobody breathed.
Samaira blinked through tears, her vision blurry. Then she saw it — Mark standing with his back turned to her, blood blooming across his shoulder.
He had taken the bullet meant for her father.
The hooded figure cursed under his breath. "Idiot."
Samaira crawled toward Mark as he dropped to one knee, clutching his wound. "Why?" she cried. "Why would you do that?"
Mark looked up, finally meeting her eyes. There was no rage left — only exhaustion, regret, and a strange peace.
"Because revenge already took everything from me," he whispered. "I won't let it take you too."
The hooded man stepped back, realizing the situation had slipped out of his control. "So be it. If you won't finish what you started… I will."
He raised the gun again — but this time his target was Samaira.
Mark's eyes widened in horror.
"NO!"
**Before all this — before betrayal, blood, and swords — there was a history written in power.**
Mark once belonged to the most influential family on Earth. Their reach extended into governments, corporations, and the very shadows of the world. They possessed knowledge and resources that made them untouchable — or so they believed.
But power breeds enemies.
One night, the impossible happened. Nations, criminal syndicates, and rival empires united for a single purpose: the eradication of Mark's bloodline. The world turned against the family that once controlled it.
The invasion was swift and merciless.
Mark survived only by chance, forced to watch everyone he loved die. From that moment, revenge became the only thing keeping him alive.