Flames of Rebellion

Inside the abandoned warehouse, four figures were scattered around a makeshift table, waiting for Khaz. The smell of dust and old oil permeated the air, and the occasional sound of dripping water echoed through the space.

Willy swung his legs in the air as he sipped his juice through a colorful straw, completely contrasting with the decaying environment around him. His angelic blond hair reflected the dim light from the old lamps hanging from the ceiling. With his slightly oversized leather jacket and a T-shirt featuring childish prints, he seemed out of place, like the younger brother of the group.

"Troy told me he'll be here in twenty minutes," he commented casually, as if they were waiting for a friend to hang out, not for a meeting that could change their lives.

Gideon let out a dry laugh, stretching his arms behind his head.

"Late again. I bet that idiot got distracted by some woman walking past him."

On the other side of the table, Nero blinked a few times before speaking, as if he had just processed the conversation. His dark hair fell over his eyes, and he wore simple, lightweight clothes, always seeming a bit out of place.

"Uh... What was the reason for this meeting again?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

Salen sighed, crossing his arms.

"You never pay attention, do you, Nero?"

"Of course I do! I just... got distracted for a moment."

Willy laughed, shaking his head.

Before they could continue the conversation, the door creaked open. Khaz walked in unhurriedly, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a weight that seemed to carry all the rage in the world. Without a word, he took a swig straight from the whiskey bottle and lit a cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly. His gaze swept over the group before he finally spoke.

"As soon as Troy gets here, we start the meeting," his voice was firm, carrying an unshakable certainty. "I've got a big plan for tonight. One that's going to change our lives. Finally, we'll be able to get out of this misery without depending on those damned Avatars and the gods who abandoned us."

Each word came out like a silent battle cry, igniting those around him. The hatred in Khaz's eyes was evident... contagious.

The atmosphere in the warehouse was already charged with anticipation. The smell of Khaz's cigarette smoke mixed with the scent of old oil and damp wood. The five of them waited, some restless, others simply resigned to the delay.

Then, the door slammed open with a bang, nearly knocking over one of the chairs leaning against the wall.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the man of the hour has finally arrived!" Troy announced with a wide grin, his arms spread as if expecting applause. His messy brown hair and half-open jacket gave the impression that he had just come from some trouble or maybe a night of drinking.

Gideon rolled his eyes. "Late again, you idiot. Gonna tell us you saved a damsel in distress on the way?"

Troy laughed, slumping into a chair carelessly. "Damn, Gideon, you know me so well. But, honestly, it was more like a group of three... and I doubt any of them were exactly damsels."

Willy, still sipping his juice, widened his eyes. "Three?"

Salen just sighed, already used to Troy's exaggerated stories. Nero, on the other hand, seemed lost in what was happening, as if he had stopped paying attention halfway through the conversation.

Khaz slammed the whiskey bottle on the table, grabbing everyone's attention.

"Enough fooling around," his voice cut through the air like a blade. He took a drag from his cigarette and exhaled slowly, his serious gaze landing on each of them. "We've got something bigger to discuss here."

Troy raised an eyebrow, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

Khaz leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. "Tonight, we take the first step to get out of this shitty life. I've got a plan, and if we do it right, we'll never have to scrape by on these miserable jobs again. We'll never have to bow our heads to anyone again."

Silence settled for a moment, until Gideon gave a half-smile. "That's what I'm talking about, boss. It's about time we did something big."

Willy, ever the optimist, smiled. "If it means sticking together, then I'm in."

Salen, more calculating, narrowed his eyes. "Alright... But how risky are we talking here?"

Nero, who had seemed oblivious before, swallowed hard. "What if it goes wrong?"

Troy clicked his tongue, crossing his arms. "Depends... Wrong enough to get us killed, or just broke and running from the cops?"

Khaz smiled, but it wasn't a comforting smile. "If we do it right, it won't go wrong."

The tension was palpable. Each person at that table had a reason to be there, to trust Khaz, but how far were they willing to go?

Now, all that was left was to hear the details.