Chapter 1: Untitled

THE RAIN THAT NIGHT sounded like it wanted to drown the whole d@mn city.

Marcus and Elias lay under the one blanket that wasn’t soaked through, listening to their father’s ragged breathing from the other room… and their mother’s quiet crying she thought nobody could hear.

Water dripped steadily from the zinc roof into a rusted bucket by the door.

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

Like some cruel metronome counting out how broke they were.

Poverty wasn’t just around them.

It lived with them.

Marcus was nine… already carrying a weight no child should know.

Elias was five, still small enough to believe the world might be kind if you asked nicely.

“I’m not letting them die like this,” Marcus whispered.

His fists tightened under the blanket.

“When we grow up, we get money. Real money. Whatever it takes. We drag this family out of this h£ll. Swear it.”

Elias pressed his tiny dirty palm against his brother’s.

“Whatever it takes. For Mom. For Dad. For us. Brothers forever.”

That night, the oath rooted itself deep inside them.

Not a childish promise.

A scar.

And scars don’t fade.

━━━

The years that followed were merciless.

Marcus started skipping school at ten to run errands for food scraps and wrinkled notes.

At eleven, he washed taxis, shined shoes, and carried loads bigger than himself.

Every coin went into a tin can hidden beneath a loose floorboard.

Elias followed him everywhere, smiling at market women so they’d slip him extra food.

The brothers became a team.

Marcus handled survival.

Elias softened hearts.

Together… they kept the lights on.

Barely.

But poverty is greedy.

It always wants more.

Their father got sicker.

Their mother’s back pain worsened.

Rent climbed higher every month.

And the tin can stayed almost empty.

That was when Marcus made his first real choice.

━━━

At fourteen, Marcus disappeared into the streets.

First pickpocketing drunk tourists.

Then running packages for dangerous men in Willow’s End.

Soon he no longer smelled like soap and sweat…

But engine grease, cigarette smoke, and fear.

By seventeen, he was breaking into warehouses at 3 a.m., cracking safes, dodging bullets, and bringing home enough money to change everything.

Enough to buy real medicine.

Enough to hear his mother laugh again.

But every dollar cost him something.

A scar.

A bruise.

A piece of himself.

Elias saw it all.

The haunted eyes.

The sudden flinches.

The exhaustion he never admitted.

Still, Marcus only said one thing:

“You stay in school. I’ll carry the dark for both of us.”

━━━

When Elias got a scholarship to Riverton University, Marcus showed up with an envelope thick enough to cover everything.

Tuition. Books. Dorm. Laptop.

No questions asked.

“Don’t f*ck it up, little bro,” he said with a grin.

But Marcus gave him more than money.

On weekends, they trained in abandoned quarries under dead moonlight.

How to move without sound.

How to pick locks.

How to end a fight fast.

How to shoot without hesitation.

“Never hesitate,” Marcus growled.

“The world sure as h£ll won’t.”

Two brothers against the world.

Or so Elias thought.

Years later, Elias graduated top of his class in criminology and joined the National Intelligence Service.

They called him a prodigy.

They didn’t know his real teacher had been his own brother.

Meanwhile, Marcus became something else entirely.

A ghost.

A kingpin.

A name whispered in fear:

REAPER.

But at family dinners, they still laughed like nothing had changed.

Until the night Elias was called to the 47th floor.

━━━

“Bring him in,” Director Voss said.

Codename: REAPER.

Elias accepted without hesitation.

Three months of hunting a ghost.

Every move anticipated.

Every trap already waiting.

Until the final tip.

Old chemical plant.

2:17 a.m.

Thirty agents moved under heavy rain.

Gunfire erupted.

Steel corridors lit up with chaos.

And Elias moved exactly like Marcus taught him.

Low. Fast. Ruthless.

Then he saw him.

REAPER.

Elias chased him alone.

Up rusted stairs.

Through smoke.

Into a room overlooking the black river.

Both guns rose instantly.

“DROP IT!” Elias shouted.

Silence.

Then slowly…

The man lowered his weapon.

Removed his visor.

And Elias froze.

Marcus.

Older. Harder. Scarred.

But still Marcus.

Still his brother.

Elias’s gun trembled.

“Marcus…?”

The name broke.

Marcus smiled softly.

“Took you long enough, little bro.”

Rain hammered the roof above them…

Just like that night years ago.

And for the first time…

There was nothing left between them except truth.

TO BE CONTINUED…🔥