The rain came down in heavy sheets, making the streets of Emerald City glisten like broken glass under neon lights.
It was supposed to be spring — but here, it felt like winter never left.
Jayden stood beneath a rusted metal canopy outside the safehouse, his hoodie pulled low over his face, watching people rush by with umbrellas and too many dreams.
No one noticed the boy with haunted eyes and a stitched-up shoulder.
He liked it that way.
For a moment, he could pretend he was just another nobody — not a broken heir with blood on his hands.
But pretending was a luxury he could no longer afford.
--
Inside the penthouse that overlooked the entire city, Serena Von Kleist, the woman in crimson, stood barefoot on the balcony, wine glass in hand, letting the rain soak her hair.
She smiled faintly.
"Poor little Jayden," she murmured.
"You thought Lucian was the worst. You haven't even met the real nightmares yet."
Behind her, the handsome young man — Aiden — slipped a diamond-studded blade into his jacket, humming a cheerful tune.
They were coming for Jayden.
But not to kill him.
No, death was too kind.
They wanted to break him first.
---
Back at the safehouse, Wendy was trying to coax Jayden to eat.
She waved a spoonful of rice in front of him dramatically.
"If you don't eat, you'll die, and I'll have to drag your ghost around all day. Do you know how heavy your ghost will be?"
Jayden gave a hollow chuckle.
"I'm already a ghost," he muttered, but he accepted the food anyway.
Jeff strolled in, holding two cups of instant noodles like sacred offerings.
"News from the underground," he said casually. "New players moving in. Someone worse than Lucian."
Jayden's appetite vanished.
Worse than Lucian?
God help us all.
---
That night, after patching the leaking roof of the safehouse with duct tape and pure hope, the group huddled together, shivering under too-thin blankets.
It should have been miserable.
Instead, they ended up laughing.
Jeff told the story of how he once tried to impress a girl by buying a fake Rolex — only for it to explode in a restaurant.
Elias admitted he once got stuck in a child's playground tunnel and had to be rescued by firefighters.
Even Jayden laughed until his sides hurt.
For a little while, the war, the betrayal, the blood...
All of it felt far away.
They were just a bunch of broken people... trying to stay warm.
---
But peace is always borrowed, never owned.
A gunshot shattered the night.
The safehouse window exploded inward, sending shards across the room.
They dove for cover instinctively.
Jayden's heart pounded against his ribs like a war drum.
A single note fluttered through the broken window, tied to a black arrow:
> "We're coming. You can run, little prince, but you can't hide."
Wendy cursed under her breath.
Jeff's face turned grim.
Jayden clenched his fists until his stitches tore open again — but he didn't feel it.
He only felt the fire lighting inside him.
They wanted a monster?
They were about to meet one.
---
As the group packed what little they had, Jayden paused for a moment at the door.
He looked back at the cracked, peeling walls.
At the broken couch.
At the memory of laughter.
It wasn't much.
But for a fleeting moment, it had felt like home.
He whispered, "Thank you," to the empty room, then stepped into the storm.
Outside, the city awaited him — cruel and beautiful, hungry and alive.
And somewhere, Serena Von Kleist raised her glass in a silent toast.
The game had begun again.
But this time, Jayden wasn't playing to survive.
He was playing to win.
No matter the cost.
---