Kael lay still, the moonlight spilling through the narrow cracks of the tent as his breathing slowed into a deep slumber. The weight of the upcoming mission pressed against his mind, but exhaustion had claimed him first.

  In his dreams, the past clawed its way back with ruthless clarity.

  He was seven again—fragile, weak, unaware of the cruel twists fate had planned. The warmth of his mother's gentle voice still echoed in his memory, a lullaby of comfort in a world too harsh for a child. But that night, the fragile illusion shattered.

  Shadows crept into their home—silent, deadly assassins with a mission to end his father's life. But fate had spared his father for the moment; he was away on a business trip. Instead, they found his mother. She had hidden Kael in his room, locking the door, whispering hurried promises that everything would be fine.

  Through a small crack in the door, Kael watched in frozen horror. His mother fought valiantly, striking down one of the assassins with desperate fury. But she was outnumbered. The cold steel of their blades finally found its mark. By the time the guards arrived, it was too late.

  As her life slipped away, she crawled toward the door where Kael hid. Her bloodied hand touched the wood, and her fading voice reached his ears: "Be strong, my son. Don't let this world suppress you... I love you."

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  Her eyes lost their light before he could answer.

  He blamed himself of the reason that he was weak that his mother died

  The days that followed were a blur of grief and silence. His father, fearing the assassins would come for him next, made the heart-wrenching decision to send him away, away from danger. Separated from the only family he had left, Kael was thrust into relentless training under the guidance of a cold, unfeeling instructor. Every strike, every fall, every drop of blood was a reminder of his weakness that night.

  Years passed. His body grew stronger, faster, deadlier. But the trauma never left. When his father was finally assassinated, the last warmth in Kael's heart turned to ice. His lively spirit faded into a cold, ruthless focus. His eyes no longer held the spark of hope—only the burning embers of vengeance and survival.

  Back in the present, Kael stirred in his sleep, a bead of sweat rolling down his temple. The weight of his memories settled on him like a stone.

  The next morning, as dawn broke across the sky, Kael and his unit stood at the border, ready to infiltrate enemy territory. His gaze was sharp, unreadable—a man forged from pain, driven by duty.

  But little did anyone know, the real story hadn't even begun yet.

  Next Chapter Preview: What follows seems real—an intense mission, unexpected death, and betrayal. But readers won't know the truth until it's too late. The ultimate game begins now.