The storm had not eased; if anything, it grew heavier, pounding the alleys of East London like war drums. Smoke curled from shattered cars, the acrid stench of gunpowder mixing with the iron tang of blood.
Ali pressed himself against the wall, chest heaving, ears ringing from the firefight. The convoy had survived the ambush, but something shifted in the chaos. The enemy wasn't fleeing—they were rallying.
And then he saw him.
From the shadows of a ruined alley, a tall figure barked orders with the fury of a cornered beast. The *KH leader*. His presence wasn't whispered rumor anymore—he was here, flesh and blood, commanding his soldiers like a general at war.
Rizwan, already bloodied, adjusted his stance. His movements had slowed, the wound in his shoulder bleeding heavily. But his eyes burned with defiance.
"Ali," Rizwan said without turning, voice edged with steel, "you see him? That is the hand that strangles this city."
Ali's throat tightened. "Then let's end it."
Rizwan gave him a sharp look, almost a warning, then strode forward into the open street. The rain turned him into a silhouette—a shadow walking into fire.
Gunfire cracked. Rizwan's guards answered instantly, suppressing the rivals with brutal efficiency. But the KH leader didn't flinch. He pulled his pistol, raised it, and fired toward Rizwan with a calm, practiced hand.
Ali felt his stomach lurch as Rizwan staggered, a fresh wound tearing into his side. Still, Rizwan didn't fall. He kept moving.
The sight burned into Ali's mind: a man bleeding, breaking, but still advancing as if retreat did not exist in his vocabulary.
Ali's hands shook around the pistol Rizwan had pressed into his grip earlier. He wasn't ready. He wasn't like Rizwan. But if he did nothing, everything would collapse.
He forced himself out of cover, the storm soaking him, eyes locked on the KH leader. The distance felt endless. The gun felt heavy. His breath came in ragged bursts.
One shot, Ali thought. One shot could end this.
The KH leader's gaze flicked toward him, lips curling into a smirk as if daring him to try.
Ali raised the pistol. His finger trembled on the trigger.
Behind him, Rizwan's voice cut through the chaos, hoarse but commanding. "Don't hesitate. Hesitation is death."
The words froze Ali's fear. His breath steadied.
He squeezed.
The shot rang louder than the storm.
The KH leader staggered, shock flashing across his face. But he didn't fall. His men rushed to drag him back into the shadows, retreating into the maze of alleys.
Silence followed, broken only by the rain and the ragged gasps of survivors.
Ali lowered the pistol, heart hammering. His stomach churned with a mix of victory and dread. He had pulled the trigger. He had crossed a line he could never uncross.
Rizwan staggered to him, blood seeping into his shirt. His hand gripped Ali's shoulder with surprising strength. "You've begun," he said, voice raw. "But beginnings demand sacrifice."
Ali's breath caught. Rizwan's weight leaned heavier against him.
The storm hadn't ended. It was only changing shape.
*Cliffhanger: The rival leader has escaped wounded but alive. Can Ali face the consequences of his first kill while Rizwan's injuries threaten to take him down?