Prykus

They call me a hero. They call me a villain. But I never cared for names.

Damien walks a razor’s edge between justice and chaos. In a city drowning in corruption and shadows, he is neither a savior nor a destroyer — but something in between.

Haunted by a past he can't escape and debts he can't repay, Damien takes on the jobs no one else dares to touch — dismantling syndicates, hunting killers, and exposing dark conspiracies that rot the city from the inside out. But every deal he makes, every life he takes, drags him further down a path he can't return from.

When a mysterious organization emerges from the depths — more dangerous and connected than anything he's faced — Damien is forced to confront the ultimate question: how far will he go to fight monsters without becoming one himself?

The Damned Path: Chronicles of Damien

The cold night air hit me like a slap as Ghost and I burst out of the burning building. Smoke billowed behind us, thick and black, rising into the sky like a funeral pyre for Kross's empire.

But the fire wasn't what made my chest tighten. It was that figure—that masked ghost who had slipped through the chaos like he owned it.

We stumbled across the empty lot, Ghost wiping blood from his brow, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Tell me," he said, glaring at me, "you know who that was."

I shook my head, jaw clenched. "Never seen him before. But he knew me. Knew what I did."

Ghost swore under his breath. "Then we've got a bigger problem."

I glanced back as the building's windows shattered from the heat, sending fiery shards raining down.

"We need answers," I said, voice low. "Before this gets worse."

We crashed through the door of an old safehouse I hadn't used in months—dusty, dim, but stocked with weapons and gear. I locked it tight behind us, double-checking the security measures.

Ghost dropped into a chair, running a hand through his hair.

"Alright," he said, eyes sharp now. "Let's think this through. Kross is dead. His empire's burning. But someone else was waiting to take his place."

I nodded. "And they wanted me to know it. That message—that wasn't a threat. It was a declaration."

Ghost leaned forward. "You think this is someone inside Kross's network? One of his lieutenants we missed?"

"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe someone bigger. Someone who's been watching from the shadows, waiting for me to do their dirty work."

Ghost scowled. "Smart. Let you take out Kross, then step in and grab the throne."

I walked over to the weapon rack, sliding a pistol from its holster, checking the clip. My hands were steady, but inside, my mind was racing.

"Whoever they are," I muttered, "they just made it personal."

Ghost stood. "So what's the move? Hunt them down?"

"No," I said finally. "We flush them out. Let them think they've won. Make them reveal themselves."

I turned, a grim smile tugging at my lips.

"By taking what they want most—control."

The city pulsed below us, lights flickering like stars trapped in glass towers. From this rooftop, I could see everything—the ruins of Kross's empire, and the empty spaces left behind.

"Someone's going to try and take those pieces," Ghost said, standing beside me. "You really think you can stop them?"

"I don't want to stop them," I said. "I want to control the game they think they're playing."

Ghost chuckled dryly. "So we become the new Kross?"

I shook my head. "No. We become something else. Something they can't predict."

A soft breeze cut through the night, but it wasn't enough to cool the fire building inside me.

"I'm done waiting," I said. "If they want to come after me, fine. But I'm not just going to fight back."

"I'm going to take everything they have. And then I'm going to burn them down."

Ghost grinned. "Now that's the Damien I know."

"This city's about to learn who really runs it."

Chapter 45: A New Enemy Rises