Assassin's Gambit Continuation

Chapter 15

Orion City – Safehouse Rooftop

The neon skyline of Orion burned in the distance, a city alive with crime, corruption, and now—bloodshed.

Damien stood at the rooftop's edge, staring at the city, his thoughts sharpening like a blade. Selene had just dropped a bombshell: Victor had placed a global bounty on him.

It wasn't just about eliminating him anymore. This was Victor making a statement—Damien Xander would be erased, reduced to nothing but a cautionary tale for anyone who dared oppose the Xander Conglomerate.

Reed's voice crackled through Damien's earpiece. "Boss, we've got a problem."

Damien exhaled. "Talk."

"We intercepted a transmission. Someone leaked your last known location. You're about to have company."

Damien's jaw tightened. "How many?"

A short pause. Then Reed's voice came back, grim. "Five high-tier assassins already in Orion. More on the way."

Selene let out a low whistle. "Victor really wants you dead."

Damien's grip on his knife tightened. "Then let's make sure they regret trying."

Before Selene could respond, a high-pitched whistle cut through the air.

Sniper.

Damien's instincts screamed. He moved, dropping into a roll just as a bullet ripped through the spot where he had been standing.

Selene cursed, drawing her pistols. "That was a warning shot."

"No," Damien murmured. "That was a test."

Another shot. He dodged again—just barely. Whoever this was, they were calculating his movements, adjusting for his reactions. This wasn't just any assassin.

This was a professional.

"We need to split," Selene said, already moving toward the rooftop exit.

Damien didn't answer. Instead, he ran straight toward the edge of the rooftop—and jumped.

Orion Streets – The First Strike

His boots hit metal, landing on a fire escape. With fluid precision, he leaped down, vanishing into the maze of Orion's underworld.

His mind was racing. The sniper wasn't acting alone. If assassins had already made their move, that meant…

He wasn't just being hunted. He was being herded.

The alley was dark, the neon lights barely filtering through the dense fog of the city. Damien moved with absolute silence, his breathing controlled, his senses stretched to their limits.

Then he felt it.

A presence.

Someone was waiting for him.

Damien's muscles tensed as a figure stepped out of the darkness.

Tall. Clad in black tactical armor. A sleek, masked helmet covered their face, a red visor glowing dimly. Their posture was relaxed, but Damien recognized the telltale stillness—the controlled, measured stance of a trained killer.

A voice distorted by the mask spoke. Cold. Familiar.

"You should have died that night, Damien."

Damien's entire body froze.

That voice. That presence.

A ghost from his past.

"…Revenant."

The masked assassin tilted his head. "So you do remember."

Damien's grip on his combat knife tightened. Revenant wasn't just another hired killer. He was someone Damien had fought alongside, bled with—a comrade he had left behind.

Someone who was supposed to be dead.

"You're supposed to be dead," Damien said, his voice calm, but his pulse hammering.

Revenant let out a low, bitter chuckle. "You of all people should know… some of us don't die so easily."

Damien's mind flashed back to that mission.

Years ago. The ambush. The betrayal.

And the decision he made.

"You left me there," Revenant continued, taking a slow step forward. "Bleeding. Alone. Forgotten."

Damien didn't flinch. "We were cut off. I made a call."

Revenant's fingers twitched toward his knife. "A call that cost me everything."

Damien's mind raced. He had to end this before it began.

"Revenant—"

Too late.

A Fight Between Ghosts

Revenant moved first.

A blur of motion—blade flashing toward Damien's throat.

Damien dodged by mere inches, twisting his body mid-air. Metal sang as their knives clashed, sparks flying in the dim alley.

Revenant was fast—too fast. His strikes were precise, efficient. Damien blocked, countered, his muscles reacting on pure instinct.

This wasn't just a battle of skill.

This was personal.

Damien ducked under a vicious slash, then retaliated with a brutal elbow strike to Revenant's ribs.

The assassin staggered—but recovered too quickly.

Damien barely managed to block the next attack, their knives locking.

For the first time, Revenant hesitated.

Damien locked eyes with him through the visor. "Who turned you into this?"

A pause.

Then Revenant laughed softly. "You already know the answer."

Victor.

Damien's teeth clenched. "You let him use you."

Revenant broke the lock, stepping back into the darkness. "No, Damien. I let him turn me into what you made me."

Silence.

Damien's gut twisted. Guilt. He had made that call all those years ago. And now…

He was facing the consequences.

Revenant took another step back. "This isn't over."

And just like that—he was gone.

The War Just Became Personal.

Damien stood still, breathing heavily. His hand flexed around his knife.

He knew what this meant.

Revenant wasn't just another assassin sent to kill him.

Revenant was a message.

A living, breathing reminder of Damien's past mistakes.

And now?

That past wanted him dead.