The slums never slept, but tonight the restless city whispered a darker secret beneath the usual hum of desperation and decay.
The cracked streets, dimly lit by flickering lanterns and sputtering neon signs, were thick with tension. Recruits young, hungry, and desperate wove their way through alleys filled with refuse, broken glass, and distant echoes of laughter that felt more like warnings than joy.
None of them suspected the true nature of this night's test.
Bronx and Sabo moved silently through the shadows, faces masked by tattered scarves and worn leather jackets. Their usual fierce presence was disguised, blending into the chaos of the slums.
They were hunters tonight, tasked with rooting out any sign of weakness or betrayal.
One by one, they approached unsuspecting recruits.
The questions were casual, almost friendly. "Where's your crew? What have you heard about the Vanta Gang?" "Who do you trust here?" The words slipped smoothly from their lips, honey-coated but laced with poison.
Most answered cautiously, fear dancing behind their eyes. Some hesitated, some lied, but all were under scrutiny.
Emery watched from a dark corner, the night wrapping around him like a cloak. His silhouette was a shadow against the crumbling brick walls, eyes sharp and unyielding beneath a hood pulled low.
Griff, Dragu, Vice, Sark, Veil, Gear, and Talia stood near, forming a silent line of watchful sentinels. Their presence radiated power and authority, lending weight to Emery's silent judgment.
The recruits had no idea their loyalty was on trial the stakes hidden beneath the streetlight's flicker.
Among the recruits, a woman with fierce eyes and quick reflexes moved with a quiet confidence. Her name was Mira, though few had heard of her beyond whispered rumors. She was known for her sharp tongue and quicker temper, and tonight, that fiery spirit would be tested like never before.
As Bronx approached her, he leaned close, voice low and smooth. "Heard anything about a new rival gang moving in?"
Mira's eyes narrowed. "You're wasting your time."
But Bronx was patient.
He pressed further, weaving a fabricated story Emery had crafted for the challenge a fake secret meant to lure any loose tongues.
Mira's jaw twitched.
Unaware she was walking into a trap, she let slip a detail a phrase she shouldn't have known, a name only shared within their inner circle.
Bronx exchanged a quick glance with Sabo.
The trap had sprung.
Sabo moved with lethal grace, closing the gap and removing his mask. Bronx followed, revealing the faces of two of the gang's most feared warriors.
"You failed," Bronx said, his voice cold and heavy. "You gave up family secrets to strangers."
Sabo's gaze bore into her. "There's no place here for traitors."
Mira's expression twisted in shock and disbelief.
"It was a mistake. This can't be happening."
Sabo's eyes narrowed, unwavering. "Mistake or not, trust is everything here."
The fire in Mira's eyes flared into rage.
"I'll prove I deserve to be in!" she snarled, lunging forward with desperate fury.
Her fists flew like thunder, wild and raw.
But Bronx was faster. His grip was iron, catching her wrist mid-swing with a sickening crack that echoed off the brick walls.
She screamed, struggling against his unbreakable hold.
Before she could recover, Sabo's elbow crashed into her ribs with brutal precision. The sharp crack sent her reeling.
Clutching her side, she swung again in blind fury.
Bronx's fist slammed into her jaw like a hammer, shattering teeth and sending blood spraying across the grimy alley.
She was thrown back violently, slamming hard against a rusted metal door.
Sabo finished the brutal assault with a vicious headbutt, dropping Mira to the cold, dirty ground.
She lay there, breath ragged and body broken, the alley silent except for her desperate gasps.
Other recruits watched from dark corners, faces pale and hearts pounding.
Bronx spat on the ground. "Loyalty means everything."
Sabo's voice was steady, unwavering. "Everyone's got a role. No traitors."
Slowly, Sabo helped Mira to her feet and shoved her toward the street.
She crumpled among the trash, beaten but alive.
Suddenly, from the shadows, a figure appeared buff for his age and radiant, with a faint glow outlining his frame. Hayden stepped forward, his presence both commanding and gentle.
He knelt beside Mira, placing hands glowing softly with healing energy.
Pain melted away as her wounds knit shut under his touch.
The slums seemed to hold their breath, the air thick with a mix of awe and disbelief.
Emery emerged from the darkness, eyes fixed on Hayden with a rare softness.
After a moment, he spoke quietly. "You have strength. Heart. What this crew needs."
Hayden looked up, surprise flickering in his eyes.
"I'm offering you a place as the fourth capo."
A hush fell over the scattered crowd.
Emery continued, voice steady and resolute. "Veil, Gear, Talia you move back one rank."
Hayden nodded, determination settling on his face.
"This isn't just a gang. It's a family. You earned your place."
Night swallowed the scene, but the streets buzzed with whispers of change, of power shifting in the underbelly of the city.
This was only the beginning.