N_A9NA_10

"I'm Maxim Radomir," He muttered. "- and they call me BARBARIC." 


Setting:
In 1990's Russia.
Nizhny Novgorod, Moscow

Maxim, a man in his late 20's, leave Nizhny Novgorod to  search his long lost brother in Moscow, but is he there for this??? Maybe not.



The story contain violence and high stake crime that maynot be comfortable for some readers.

Also in wattpad every Friday

IN THE END: MAXIM

Emptiness stretched endlessly, swallowing sound and thought. Maxim stood in the void, his breath shallow, his senses dulled.

Suddenly, flames erupted around him—wild, fierce, and merciless. The heat scorched his skin, though his feet remained rooted to the ground. Panic clawed at his chest.

The voice echoed, distant yet insistent. It filled the air like smoke, suffocating and relentless.

The sharp sound jolted Maxim awake. The dim light overhead flickered, buzzing faintly in the sterile room.

His eyes shot open to see a woman standing before him, her face set in a mask of fury.

"It's not time for dreaming," she snapped.

Maxim rubbed his eyes and smirked despite himself. "Ah, Miss Maria Pavlenko," he drawled. "What did I do to earn the pleasure of being your guest?"

Maria's eyes burned with accusation. "Why did you kill Baran Sedovey?"

Maxim leaned back in his chair, stretching lazily. "Ah," he sighed. "So that's why I'm here."

Maria didn't flinch. "He was our key to the criminal world! Do you have any idea what you've done?"

Maxim's casual demeanor cracked. His voice dropped, raw and broken. "He deserved to die! --- He's the one who hurt my child!" His throat tightened. "He is one of those -- He is one of those who hurt you."

Maria's expression hardened. "The RSS Council has decided," she said coldly. "You're discharged from this case."

Without waiting for a response, she turned on her heel and walked out, the door slamming behind her.

Maxim sat there, the weight of loss pressing down on his chest.

The field stretched out in eerie silence, the crisp morning air biting against Maxim's skin. He stood for a moment, breathing it in before sinking to the ground, lost in thought.

Footsteps crunched on the frost-covered grass behind him.

"Don't just sit there in silence," a gravelly voice called out.

Maxim didn't look back. "Don't sneak up on me like that, Boris Baba."

The old man, his clothes worn and stained with age, chuckled softly. "Training starts soon," Boris said. "Come to my place. We'll talk."

The café was quiet, worn with time. Dust lingered on wooden tables, and empty chairs stood as silent witnesses to countless stories.

Boris set down two glasses and a bottle of vodka. "What day is it?" Maxim asked absently.

"March 18, 1993. Why do you ask me?" Boris replied, setting two glasses and a bottle of vodka on the table.

"No reason," Maxim murmured. He stared into his glass.

"I play for this team years ago." He drinks the vodka. "Back then i only remeber you. I don't remember my parents. I don't know who my folks are. I don't even know if -- if I have a sibling." His voice softened. "I wish I did."

I'm Maxim Radomir --- And They call me Barbar.

Boris took a slow sip, his eyes thoughtful. "You know, kid," he began carefully, "You do have a little brother."

Maxim froze, the weight of those words sinking in.

That was how I learned I had a brother.

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Chapter 2