The night was thick with whispers. In the underworld, silence did not mean peace—it meant anticipation. A city that had long bowed to Kieran now held its breath, uncertain of its next ruler.
Ochieng stood at the edge of the tallest building in Emerald City, gazing down at the streets that once rejected him.
Tonight, they belonged to him.
Jeff approached from behind, his hands in his pockets. "Word is spreading. Kieran's still breathing, but his empire?" He exhaled. "Already crumbling."
Tielen chuckled, leaning against the railing. "Took him decades to build it. Took us a night to burn it down."
Ochieng's eyes darkened. "Not burned. Reclaimed."
Because this city was always his. They had just forgotten.
---
Far away, in an underground chamber lined with gold and obsidian, powerful figures sat in a circle. Billionaires, warlords, corporate giants—Kieran's allies, now leaderless.
A man in a white suit leaned forward. "Who is this Ochieng?"
Silence.
Then, a woman with crimson nails tapped the table. "A ghost. A myth. A man who should have died."
Another voice, deeper, rougher. "And yet he walks among us."
A moment passed.
Then—laughter.
The man in the white suit smirked. "Then perhaps it's time we remind him of his place."
They had no idea.
Ochieng had no place.
Because the world itself would bend around him.
---
At the hidden estate, Maggy met Ochieng at the entrance. Her expression unreadable.
"It's done, then?"
Ochieng nodded.
Maggy studied him. "And yet… you don't look victorious."
Ochieng looked past her, towards the mountains beyond. "Because this isn't victory."
She frowned. "Then what is it?"
A long pause.
Then, a quiet answer.
"The beginning."
And somewhere, in the depths of the city, a sleeping giant stirred.
Because the war had only just begun.
---