Chapter 617: Symphony of Ruin
The first bullet shattered the silence.
Jayden instinctively threw himself over Matilda, dragging her down behind the rows of rotten seats as splinters of wood and velvet rained down like black snow.
Gunfire roared, a symphony of destruction.
From the darkness, figures moved — black-clad, faceless, ruthless.
They weren't here to capture.
They were here to kill.
---
Jayden's mind went cold.
No fear.
No hesitation.
He ripped the pistol from his waistband and returned fire, every shot calculated, every movement precise.
Beside him, Matilda crawled, blood trickling from a cut on her forehead.
"You set me up," he grunted between shots.
Tears sparkled in her eyes.
She shook her head wildly.
"I didn't know! They said they'd let me go—!"
Jayden grabbed her hand. "Move!"
They ran, weaving through the wreckage as bullets stitched the ground behind them.
--
From the balcony, Aiden watched with surgical detachment.
He sipped from a silver flask, murmuring into his mic:
> "Seal the exits. No survivors."
He had played the long game, inserting himself into Jayden's life as a trusted ally.
Feeding him just enough lies wrapped in truth.
And now, watching Jayden bleed, Aiden felt nothing.
Loyalty was an illusion.
Survival was reality.
And Aiden was a master of survival.
--
They reached the side exit —
Blocked.
Two men. Heavy rifles. Cold eyes.
Jayden's magazine clicked empty.
No time to reload.
One of the gunmen raised his weapon —
Matilda screamed —
Jayden threw himself forward, a blur of desperation.
The explosion of the gun was deafening.
Pain punched into Jayden's side, hot and brutal.
But he didn't fall.
He slammed into the gunman, grappling viciously.
The second man took aim at Matilda.
Time slowed.
Jayden had one chance.
One life.
He hurled his empty pistol like a dagger.
It struck the second man's face, just enough to throw off the shot.
The bullet missed Matilda by an inch, carving a gash across her shoulder instead of her heart.
---
Jayden staggered back to Matilda, clutching his bleeding side.
"Go!" he gasped, pushing her toward the door.
"I'm not leaving you!" she cried, sobbing.
"You have to."
He pressed something into her hand —
A small black key.
"The locker at Central Station," he rasped. "Everything you need to disappear."
She stared at him in horror, realizing.
He wasn't planning to follow.
Jayden turned to face the advancing killers alone, shoulders squared, head high.
Like a soldier at his last stand.
--
Matilda hesitated.
One heartbeat.
Two.
Then she ran, choking on her tears.
Jayden watched her go, a sad, broken smile on his bloodstained lips.
When the gunmen closed in, he welcomed them.
Not as a victim.
But as a man who had already won.
Because they thought they were taking everything from him.
But they could never understand:
Jayden had already given it all away.
---
As Matilda fled into the night, the theater behind her erupted in flames.
The fire devoured the ghosts, the lies, the betrayals.
A symphony of ruin playing out under a sky too cruel to care.
And in the ashes of that night, something darker began to stir.
Jayden was gone.
But the legend was just beginning.
---