Kiran had spent years exposing corruption, but this was different. This wasn’t just a story—it was a conspiracy unraveling before his eyes.
Piecing together leaks, financial trails, and hidden communications, he saw the truth: the recent chaos wasn’t organic. It was deliberate. The Resistance, the Nine Dragons, the Old Dragons—every move they had made had been manipulated by an unseen hand.
"This isn’t a war," he muttered to himself. "It’s theater. And we’re all actors."
But before he could publish, they came for him.
The first bullet shattered the glass of his apartment window. The second barely missed him as he dove for cover. He scrambled for his encrypted drive, but the attackers were fast. Too fast.
Fleeing through the fire escape, blood dripping from a graze on his shoulder, he realized something terrifying: The Nine Dragons had always wanted him silenced.
But this attack? This wasn’t their style.
Someone else wanted the truth buried.