Alex_kingstone

In a world where power is dictated by gangs, cities, and families ranked from Tier 1 to Tier 6, only the strongest survive. In the Tier 4 city of Blackridge, fifteen-year-old Elijah struggles to find his place. With his mother working tirelessly and his younger sister depending on him, he has always kept his head down.

Determined to rise above the chaos, Elijah and his best friend Kai decide to create their own gang from nothing. But strength in this world isn’t given—it’s taken. The gangs that rule Blackridge won’t tolerate competition, and even the weakest gang has more resources, manpower, and experience than they do. With no money, no reputation, and no clear allies, they must navigate a brutal world of betrayals, violence, and ambition, where every decision could mean life or death.

But Elijah is different. He possesses a mysterious system that offers him power—at a cost. As he slowly uncovers its secrets, he realizes that survival is not enough. To protect those he loves, he must become stronger than anyone else. He must climb the ranks, crush the opposition, and seize control of Blackridge’s underworld.

But in a world ruled by kings, warlords, and ancient families, the price of power is steep. And when the past comes back to haunt him—when whispers of a forgotten night resurface—Elijah must confront not only his enemies but the truth about himself.

In the gang world, the strong rise, the weak perish, and only the ruthless reign supreme.

And Elijah? He plans to reign at the very top

The Path Of A True King.

The wind screamed across the summit, lifting whorls of dust that glimmered like ground-glass in the moonlight.

Tristan lay half-propped against a splintered boulder, breath shallow, eyes glazed but stubbornly open.

Every rise of his chest came with a wet rattle.

Xiniz's lightning still crawled over the battlefield in ragged filaments, crackling through cracks in the stone like veins of living cobalt.

Elijah stood alone now—one man between a fallen friend and the storm given flesh.

His Burst aura pulsed like a war-drum, and the 10 percent Zenith coursing through him hammered bone against muscle, muscle against skin.

The temporary stat spike sang in his blood, but it was not enough; he felt that truth in every parried punch and every numbing vibration that rolled up his forearms.

Xiniz grinned, teeth catching the lightning like shards of a shattered star.