The golden medallion rested in Ochieng's palm, its cold weight pressing against his skin. The underground world had crowned him their new ruler, but he knew—power came at a cost.
Even as he sat in the grand chamber, drinking the finest wine, he could feel the currents shifting. Enemies were already moving.
And some… were much closer than he thought.
---
The banquet hall was alive with celebration. The strongest warriors of the underground had gathered, raising their cups to toast the new king.
"Ochieng! A warrior of destiny!" one man bellowed, slamming his cup down.
Another roared, "To the fall of the Four Kings! To a new era!"
Laughter and music filled the air, but Ochieng barely drank.
His eyes scanned the room, reading the movements, the subtle glances exchanged in the shadows.
Then—he saw it.
A small flicker. A warrior hesitating before sipping his wine. A glance toward the man at the far end of the table.
Poison.
His fingers tightened around the cup. So soon?
A test.
Without hesitation, Ochieng tilted the cup back, drinking every last drop.
The hall fell silent.
A few warriors shifted uncomfortably. Others exchanged uncertain looks. Did he know?
Then, Ochieng smirked.
"You'll have to try harder than that," he said, his voice cutting through the air like a blade.
The tension snapped. Some warriors laughed nervously, while others gritted their teeth, realizing their plans had failed.
But one man, seated in the shadows, merely smiled.
His game had just begun.
---
Deep in the mountains, a lone figure sat beneath a waterfall, eyes closed, body still as stone.
The force of the water crashing down should have crushed bones, but he did not move.
Then—his eyes flickered open.
A servant knelt before him. "My lord, the new king has emerged."
The man in white did not answer. Instead, he raised a hand. A single ripple spread across the water.
"The boy is a flame," he murmured. "Let us see how long he burns."
With that, he rose. A storm was coming.
And Ochieng had just stepped into its eye.
---
Later that night, as the celebrations faded, Ochieng stood alone on the palace balcony, the cool night air brushing against his skin.
He exhaled slowly, watching the distant lanterns flicker in the dark city below.
Then—he heard it.
The whisper of movement. A shadow shifting against the moonlight.
An assassin.
Without turning, Ochieng spoke, "You're late."
Silence.
Then—a blade shot toward his throat.
Faster than lightning, Ochieng twisted, catching the assassin's wrist midair. His grip tightened, bending the attacker's arm back, forcing them to their knees.
A low chuckle. "Impressive."
The assassin lifted their head—a woman, eyes gleaming with amusement, even as her own blade was pressed against her throat.
"My name is Li Wei," she purred. "And I've come to kill you."
Ochieng smirked. "You're welcome to try again."
He released her, and she vanished into the night, leaving behind only the whisper of a promise.
This was only the beginning.
---
As the sun rose over the underground world, the news had already spread.
A king had been crowned.
But kings did not rule alone.
And in the shadows, those who wished to take his throne were already sharpening their blades.
Ochieng smiled.
Let them come.
---