That same night, Surya and Jey sat at a quiet restaurant, picking at their food. Jey ate with his usual appetite, chatting between bites, but Surya barely touched his plate. The spices were there. The texture was right. But the taste—it was all wrong.
For years, he had eaten only the meals prepared by the old lady. Now that she was gone, even food felt like betrayal.
His fork clinked against the plate.
"You alright?" Jey asked.
Surya just nodded.
Their phones buzzed almost in sync. A new message:
All new recruits. Assemble at the complex tomorrow morning. Mandatory.
Jey frowned slightly. "I think that's when we get assigned our duties."
Surya didn't respond. He just stared at the message, the screen's glow reflected in his dark eyes.
After a quiet finish to their meal, the two went their separate ways.
Surya walked to the shop.
A "To-Let" board hung crooked above the entrance, fluttering slightly in the breeze. He'd known it would happen—the moment she died, the shop began dying too.
Inside, dust already coated the counters. He found a folded note near the cash register.
The owner's handwriting was blunt, impersonal:
A new tenant is coming next week. Please clear out your things.
Surya stood in the middle of the empty shop for a long time.
That night, sleep was a lie.
It came in broken fragments—flashes of his mother's screams, shadows clawing at his mind. Every night, the same dream. Every morning, the same exhaustion.
He awoke before the sun, locked up the shop one last time, and stood outside in the quiet.
He didn't look back.
The complex loomed ahead, vast and grey under a morning haze. Jey was already outside, waiting.
Neither of them spoke. A simple nod, and they stepped inside.
The basement was massive—and packed. Thousands of people filled the space, murmuring, shifting, tense. The air buzzed with uncertainty and anticipation. Surya and Jey pushed through the crowd until they saw the other new recruits standing in a stiff line.
Without a word, they joined them.
A moment later, the announcer emerged from the shadows. His voice sliced through the low hum of voices like a blade.
"You're very lucky," he said, his expression unreadable. "What's happening today… has never happened before in any blood trial."
Jey leaned over, whispering, "Something big is going down, right?"
The announcer offered a faint smile. "Big? Oh, yes. You're about to meet the one who sits at the top of all this. The man who built Desan from dust."
A stunned silence spread across the recruits. Jey's eyes widened. Some whispered. Others stared forward in disbelief.
But Surya didn't react.
His heart had already started to race.
He could feel it—like cold breath against the back of his neck.
A ghost was coming.
The thud of boots echoed down the corridor. Slow. Deliberate. Final.
Each footstep sounded heavier than the last, like the weight of something too old and powerful to name.
The doors creaked open.
And then he appeared.
Gasps scattered through the crowd. Some people cried out. Others just stared, paralyzed.
Surya's eyes locked on the man in the doorway.
It was him.
Ryan.
The ghost from his nightmares. The man who had turned his life to ash.
Ryan stepped forward, calm and composed, his black coat brushing the cold stone floor. His presence swallowed the room. He raised a hand.
Silence.
It was as if the air had vanished. No breath. No heartbeat.
"I'm glad to see you all here," Ryan began, his voice cold, elegant. Calculated.
"You look stronger… bolder."
"In Desan, we operate on loyalty and control. That is why we dominate—why we hold 80% of this city in our grasp. Every year, our reach spreads wider."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle like dust.
"Today, we welcome new blood. You will be trained. Molded. You will become our weapons."
A murmur of unease crept through the crowd.
"And to the strongest among you…" His voice lowered, sharp as ice. "You will be transferred to the North Zone. You'll work directly under me. And in return… you'll become wealthier than your dreams dare."
He raised his hand again. The crowd roared in response. The noise was deafening.
But Surya didn't hear it.
All he saw was Ryan.
The ghost from his past, made flesh again.
Ryan turned to leave, his guards closing in around him. Just as he reached the doorway, he stopped.
"The boy on the left," he said, his voice low but lethal. "Who was he? The one who looked at me like he wanted to rip out my throat."
The announcer hesitated. "That's Surya. A new recruit. Strong. Fierce. Dangerous."
Ryan's lips curled into something between a smirk and a snarl. "I liked that look. Send him to the South Zone. Let's see if the beast survives the cage."
Later, the announcer returned and began assigning recruits.
Three were sent east. Two to the west.
But Surya and Jey? South Zone.
The worst of the worst.
The train ride south was long and quiet. Jey sat beside Surya, fidgeting.
"They say the South Zone is chaos," Jey whispered. "No one controls it. Even Desan couldn't tame it."
Surya didn't answer.
His eyes had locked onto a figure standing on the platform—another face from the shadows of his past. Another ghost. Another name on the list.
He turned his gaze back to the window. The city sped past in blurs.
He knew what he had to do now.
Gain their trust. Rise through the ranks. Then kill him.
His breath fogged the glass.
Vengeance was only the spark.
Now the fire was war.