"Sometimes, your shadow walks ahead of you… when your past catches up."
---
The old cathedral in Mombasa hadn't hosted a prayer in thirty years. But tonight, its ancient stained-glass windows flickered red—not from candles, but from fire.
A figure in a dark cloak knelt before the altar, holding a locket.
Inside it? A photo of a child—Jayden.
The figure, her face hidden beneath a crimson veil, whispered:
"Let him remember what they buried with the name Ochieng."
And behind her, the walls cracked open with a rumble—revealing a vault long sealed.
Inside the vault: blueprints, a will, and a ring made of obsidian and bloodstone—the Flame Ring, last worn by Jayden's mother… a woman history erased.
---
A private plane touched down on an unlisted island between Zanzibar and the Seychelles. Jayden Ochieng stepped out, flanked by Wendy and Jeff. The invitation he'd received had no sender, just a symbol: a burning eye.
They walked into an underground ballroom where masked elites sipped aged whiskey and watched a screen that read: "Lot 9: The Last Testament of Bernardo Ochieng."
Jayden's jaw clenched.
The auctioneer, wearing a silver wolf mask, spoke in a chilling tone.
"Lot 9 begins at fifty million… dollars."
Jayden raised his hand. "A hundred million. And I'll burn this island down if anyone bids against me."
No one did.
But just as the gavel dropped—
A bullet shattered the screen.
Gasps. Panic.
Then a voice over the speakers:
"Jayden Ochieng… your time wearing the crown ends now."
---
Deep beneath a hidden city in Angola, Otieno stood before a mirror, bare-chested, his back covered in scars that told a story of betrayal and rebirth.
He slipped on a red leather coat and turned to face his team—a squad of rogue mercenaries, assassins, and ex-military tacticians. They called themselves The Ember Syndicate.
Otieno smirked. "Let him keep his empire in light. We'll take the shadows."
He held up a match. Lit it.
"We move tonight."
---
Back in his study, Jayden opened the will.
Inside, his father's final letter:
> "Jayden… they called me Ochieng. Son of a flame. You carry both names now, because you are both light and shadow. Let the world know you not as a king… but as Jayden Ochieng—the reckoning."
Jayden whispered the name aloud for the first time:
"Jayden Ochieng."
It echoed like thunder through the marble halls.