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 last of Dorne's men hit the ground with a heavy thud, and the docks were silent again — but only for a moment. Vera and I exchanged a glance, both of us breathing hard, guns still raised.

"You alright?" I asked, scanning the shadows for movement.

Vera gave a breathless laugh. "Yeah. You?"

I checked the fresh graze on my arm. "Nothing worth mentioning."

She raised a brow. "Your definition of 'nothing' has always been questionable."

Before I could respond, Ghost's voice cracked through my earpiece again, sharp and urgent.

"Damien, get out of there. Now. More of Dorne's people are on the way. I'm counting two SUVs rolling in hot."

Vera cursed under her breath. "We don't have time to finish this chat."

"No," I agreed. "But we have to leave them something to remember us by."

Her eyes glinted in the dim dock light. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

We moved fast, planting a couple of makeshift explosives on key containers — Ghost had slipped me a few "party favors" earlier, knowing I'd probably need them. As we worked, Vera glanced at me, a rare seriousness in her gaze.

"If Dorne's really making a play, Damien… this isn't just about revenge anymore. This city—it's gonna burn."

I paused, looking out at the dark water, the empty skyline. "Then we make sure we're the fire they're afraid of."

Vera smiled grimly. "You've changed."

"Maybe," I said quietly. "But some things never do."

We finished our work and slipped back toward a side exit as the black SUVs screeched to a stop, armed men spilling out like ants.

"Wait for it," I murmured, watching from behind a stack of crates.

Vera glanced at her watch, smirking. "Three... two... one..."

The dock exploded in a fiery wave, sending crates, men, and debris flying. The force of it shook the ground beneath our feet, and I could feel the heat against my skin even from where we stood.

Vera let out a low whistle. "You really know how to make a statement."

I couldn't help but grin. "Sometimes it takes a little fire to get someone's attention."

As we slipped into the shadows, Ghost was waiting in the car nearby, engine running, eyes wide as he looked back at the blast.

I slid into the passenger seat, Vera taking the back. "Subtle's not really my style."

As we sped away from the burning docks, Vera leaned forward between the seats.

I stared out at the city lights ahead, jaw tight.

"Now?" I said slowly. "Now we hunt Dorne before he finishes what Kross started."

Ghost shot me a glance. "We don't even know where to start."

"Vera does," I said, looking at her.

She smirked. "I know people. People who owe me favors. And a few who might hate Dorne enough to talk."

"Then that's our next move," I said firmly.

Ghost gripped the wheel tighter. "You realize what you're doing, right? You're putting a target on all of us. Dorne doesn't play games."

"I'm counting on that," I muttered.

The car fell into silence for a few moments, the weight of what was coming settling over us.

"So, Damien… you ready to start a war?"

I looked at her through the rearview mirror, a sharp glint in my eye.

Chapter 48: Warpath