Prologue – The Death of Sunny "Dragon" Macrey
---
The city was on fire.
Not literally, not yet—but in Sunny's eyes, it always was. The honks, the chaos, the way the smog clung to your lungs like wet cement and refused to let go—it all burned like gunpowder in the bloodstream. The Gotham underworld had been his crucible. His battlefield. And now, .. his grave.
Sunny "Dragon" Macrey sat in the backseat of his bulletproof black benz, fingers drumming rhythmically against the leather armrest, while two of his trusted men waited outside, chatting with the customs officials and leader of an arms gang at the dockyard entrance.
This was supposed to be routine—another transfer, another crate of untraceable guns and grenades headed to the docks. A delivery to the cartel that had been paying him handsomely for chaos in the city.
Except today, something felt wrong.
He couldn't help but glance at his phone, at the display where the photo of a young girl with short raven hair reflected back.
Any other day, it would've brought a rare smile to his face, but for some reason, now, he only felt …. a little numb.
"Something's wrong." A grim voice spoke through his guts. And he couldn't help but look out.
The air was too still. No sound of traffic beyond the perimeter. No idle chatter in the comms. Or radio. Which was playing music some time ago. .Just static.
Then he saw it—reflected in the side mirror. A flicker of movement in the shadows behind a stack of containers. Not the twitch of a guard on a cigarette break. Not a rat. No, this was a silhouette. Hiding intentionally.
He reached under the seat almost immediately and grabbed his Glock.
"Boys, you hear me?" he whispered into the mic, trying to contact his group of guards supposedly scattered throughout the parameters.
No response.
Just silence.
And then .. the world exploded.
BooooooooM
A concussive blast shattered the rear window. The world blinked white as fire kissed metal and burned rubber. The car jolted awake like it had been struck by lightning.
Before a moment's break, as if on cue, bullets tore through the car like paper. The glass windows started spider webbing in an instant, and the deafening roar of rapid gunfire followed. Like he wasn't sitting at the edge of a capital, but in the center of a warzone.
In a confused glance forward, Sunny noticed two masked men, holding RPG's on their shoulders and pointing to his car.
Sunny dove down, kicking the door open and dove down.
He hit the ground hard, shoulder crunching on the concrete, and rolled instinctively. Pain flared up his spine, but he was already on one knee, returning fire.
Bang. Bang. Bang.
Three men fell down near his feet, turning into corpses, seconds later jumping in front of him. With bullet holes between their brows, blasting their brains.
He shot one masked man right in the eye, causing his aim to miss, and resulting in a Rocketflying towards the sky. Setting the clouds ablaze in a raunchy fireworks.
While his body hit the pavement below like wet laundry.
But before he could switch his aim, a heatwave hit his body, blasting him across the port.
The second Rocket hit the car, shattering the vehicle and sending its pieces flying everywhere.
A large shard of glass ripped Sunny's muscles. Being stabbed right into his left kidney.
For a few seconds his brain went unconscious, only to be jolted awake when his back hit the iron container hard. And he fell on his forehead.
"Fuck." A curse came through his bloodied face, as he gritted his teeth to grunt in pain.
His ears were numb, still echoing the same beep of the previous blast. So he couldn't hear a thing. But from the way smoke drifted every second and sparks kept flying all around him, he could sense that the barrage of bullets were still flying freely.
Shaking his head when he looked up, he noticed one of his right hand men was already dead. While the other was screaming, his legs blown off, and crawling toward him.
A trace of sadness and anger flashed through his eyes, but he didn't have the time to mourn. Nor be blinded by rage.
'I need to get out of here.' He thought in his heart.
Using the smoke as cover, he ducked behind a crate and counted—ten, no twelve, or maybe twenty shooters, shuttling from every direction. All wearing tactical gear. No official logo. No gang colors.
"Mercs," Sunny muttered, his cold eyes narrowing.
Then he heard it—footsteps behind him. In contrast to the chaos, the sound of them was soft. Rhythmic… and familiar.
"Ash, don't…." Sunny shouted as he turned, trying to warn his childhood friend and partner to hide _ only to stop mid-sentence after seeing his face.
Ashfaq stood there, calm as a monk, in a sharp grey suit with matching glasses. The bastard even had his tie still on.
In an instant, Sunny understood everything, and his face turned grim. "You?"
Seeing his expression, Ashfaq's smile was thin, a little sad, a little expected. "Your instincts were always the sharpest. That's why I saved you for the last."
"And the fact that no one in the city had the guts to go against you, and I had to call these guys from foreign countries." Ash spoke in a calm tone. Ignoring the rageful glare from the Dragon.
"Should've accepted the deal, Sunny. Now everything's over." He said, pointing with his hands to calm the mercs who shot the last guy dead, and surrounded Sunny.
"Why?" Sunny asked, his gun pointing straight towards Ash.
"Cause you were always the storm. The Dragon. Too loud, too wild. The times changed. But you didn't."
Sunny's fingers tightened around the grip of his pistol. "So you sold me out."
Ashfaq nodded. "To people who understand business. Not chaos."
Sunny's gun hand trembled—not from fear, but rage. Betrayal burned hotter than the blast wound.
They'd been through hell together. Ashfaq and him.
He had been his right hand, his partner, his younger brother in everything but blood.
And now this…
"You were my brother," Sunny spat, "I pulled you out of the fucking gutter. Made you who you are."
Ash's eyes twitched as he glasses off. "No, Sunny. You kept me in the gutter. And every time I tried to pull us up, you mocked me."
"I told you—politics, expansion, legitimacy. That we should leave these shadows behind and rule in light."
"But what did you do? Huh. You laughed."
"..."
"You fucking laughed. And said that I'd gone soft, become senile. That politics means sharing power, and the only way to truly rule as a King, was through fear." Ash's outburst of emotions ended, and a deadly calm replaced his expression.
"But guess what, fear makes people desperate."
"And desperate people make dangerous choices." Ash finished his monologue in a calm tone, "Your time is over, Dragon. It's time for smarter men to lead."
"Smart? And you?" Sunny sneered, as if he heard the biggest joke. "You wouldn't even last a day on the throne, before the snakes pluck out your eyes and bite your flesh."
"Empty threats don't suit you, Dragon." Ash replied in response, "Don't worry, before coming here, I especially paid a visit to all our friends, crushing their heads and pulling out their venomous fangs. I alone have the power now."
"The expressions on their faces as I took their lives, _ ." Ash muttered and closed his eyes, and raised his arms in ecstasy as if savoring the sensation he felt hours ago.
"...." Sunny froze as he glanced at Ash's palms where shallow bloodstains, and thin nail and finger finger marks still left on his neck from being choked.
His love _ gone.
The air suddenly seemed to have turned colder, and chaos silent _ while Sunny just pulled the trigger without any hesitation.
But Ashfaq at the aim, didn't even flinch.
As only the sound of an empty click echoed through that gun.
Bang
Next second, a bullet slammed into Sunny's back before he could pull the trigger again.
Another bullet hit his ribs.
And then another.
And then another.
In just a few seconds, his whole body was riddled through holes.
And he collapsed, coughing blood. And the asphalt soaked it up like thirsty sand.
He lay there, vision blurring, with breath shallow.
His heartbeat slowed.
And the port faded.
There was no sound now—only the drip of his blood.
The nearby mercs closed in, their weapons lowering to check his pulse.
One of the guys looked back, and nodded towards Ash.
Job done.
Ashfaq stepped forward and knelt beside his corpse. "You were never supposed to get this far," he whispered, closing Sunny's eyes with his hands in an almost fondly way.
"Throw his corpse in the container, along with the rest. And then dump it into the sea." Ash ordered before putting his glasses again, and turning around to leave.
.....
For Sunny the world faded in silence. But before darkness took hold of his soul, something strange stirred in the edges of his consciousness.
A warmth. A pulse. Like ink spreading through water.
And then he saw it.
A floating lotus. Black as night.
Its petals unfolding in a slow, graceful defiance of reality. And pulling him in.
It spoke with no voice, and yet he understood.
"You are not done, Dragon. A world awaits. One of blades and beasts. Rule again. Climb again. Become more than what you were, or burn it all."
The Dragon got swallowed in the darkness with a wet rattle. Only to see the light on the other end.
"Phhewww!"
A gasping breath tore the silence of a rotting hut in another world—As a corpse opened its eyes.