Chapter 13: Training Day

The morning sun shone bright over the ONI gang's headquarters. It was a crisp, fresh day—the kind that brought energy to the air, perfect for training. Ali stood at the center of the training grounds, watching his crew as they stretched and prepared for an intense day of practice. Everyone was there—Fatima, Bilal, Zubair, Areeb, and all the other core members, each surrounded by their respective squads. Every core member of ONI had seven people in their squad, and today was all about pushing them to the limit.

"Alright, team! Let's get moving!" Ali's voice rang out, signaling the start of the training session.

His squad of seven, handpicked for their unique skills, lined up in front of him. They were eager to impress, their faces determined as they awaited instructions. Ali wasted no time and began running them through drills—powerful punches, evasive maneuvers, and precise strikes. His movements were sharp and calculated, demonstrating each technique with effortless grace.

Across the training ground, Fatima was just as intense, her squad performing fast-paced combinations of strikes and counters. She moved with a dancer's agility, guiding her team through intricate footwork while throwing punches and kicks. Sweat gleamed on her forehead, but she didn't let up. Fatima's squad was known for their speed and coordination, and today they were proving why.

Bilal, on the other hand, was all about brute strength. His squad was bigger, stronger, and more aggressive. They practiced grappling, takedowns, and powerful ground attacks. Bilal's voice boomed over the training area as he barked commands, pushing his team to dig deeper. His fists slammed into a training dummy, leaving deep dents in the material, showing off his raw power.

Zubair's squad focused on precision and accuracy. He led them in a series of drills that required focus, discipline, and perfect timing. Every strike was measured, every block precise. Zubair's teaching style was calm and methodical, but his eyes were always sharp, watching his squad's every move.

Areeb's squad, known for their agility, was working on dodging techniques. He had set up an obstacle course, forcing his members to dodge, weave, and leap over barriers while still maintaining their combat effectiveness. Areeb moved with a fox-like quickness, showing his squad how to avoid getting hit while launching counterattacks.

The entire training ground buzzed with energy. Every core member was pushing their squad to be the best, not just for the upcoming tournament but for the battles they all knew were lurking around the corner.

"Harder!" Ali yelled at his squad, watching them throw a series of high kicks. "You need to hit like you mean it!"

His mind, however, wasn't entirely on the training. Thoughts of his father from the night before kept creeping in. Ali had always known his father was strong, but seeing him in action had changed something. There was more to his father than Ali realized. The way he had taken out those thugs so effortlessly—it was like he had been someone else entirely.

"Focus, Ali," he muttered to himself, shaking off the thoughts as he turned back to his squad. "Let's go again!"

Just as the training session hit its peak, the scene shifted to a different place entirely—a dimly lit room, miles away from the ONI headquarters.

The room was dimly lit, shadows creeping along the walls as six men sat around a long table. The atmosphere was tense, but there was an unexpected twist to the evening's gathering.

"Did you hear about the guy who tried to rob a bank with a sack of potatoes?" one man joked, trying to lighten the mood. "He thought he was going to make a mash!"

The others chuckled softly, the laughter a brief respite from the weight of their grim conversation. But the humor quickly faded as the distant sounds of muffled cries echoed from the back, creating an unsettling atmosphere that hinted at something far more sinister happening just out of sight.

"Speaking of mashed, let's get down to business," said the leader, his voice turning serious. He leaned forward, his expression hardening. "This needs to be done. No more delays."

The laughter from earlier faded into uneasy silence as another man smirked, leaning back in his chair. "You all know what's at stake here."

A murmur of agreement passed around the table, but one man shifted uneasily, glancing toward the back. "Are we sure this is the right way?"

"Are you questioning the plan?" the leader snapped, narrowing his eyes. "This isn't about what's right or wrong. It's about making sure our message is heard loud and clear."

The hesitant man clenched his fists, discomfort evident on his face. "We need to be careful. We don't want to draw too much attention."

At that moment, a particularly loud scream rang out from the back, followed by the sounds of heavy thuds and desperate pleas for help. The tension in the room escalated, the atmosphere thickening with dread.

"Ah, sounds like music to my ears," one man chuckled darkly, a satisfied grin creeping across his face.

The hesitant man looked horrified, his unease turning into outright alarm. "This isn't a game! We're crossing a line!"

The leader's gaze hardened. "It's too late for caution. We need to show them the consequences of crossing us."

The tension in the room grew, and the unsettling sounds from the back intensified, a grim reminder of the stakes involved. Whispers of pain and desperation lingered in the air, heavy and foreboding.

"Enough!" the leader barked, slamming his fist on the table, silencing the group. "We're moving forward. Make sure everything is ready."

As the meeting ended, the men stood and shuffled out, their footsteps echoing in the quiet room. The faint sounds of suffering continued in the background, a haunting reminder of the darkness they were entangled in.

The clock on the wall ticked ominously, each second amplifying the sense of impending chaos. Outside, the world continued, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing just miles away. Back at the ONI training ground, Ali and his crew were practicing, their laughter ringing out like a beacon of life amid the encroaching darkness.