Time passed swiftly. Fifteen years since they first met, the five young men had now reached the age of twenty-five. The bond they built as children remained, but their lives had taken very different paths.
Kaeliano Draxmore had finally achieved his long-held dream: becoming an FBI agent. His first day at headquarters felt like the peak of a journey forged through discipline, relentless training, and unshakable determination. Yet behind his proud smile lay unhealed wounds—his relationship with his father remained cold, and his position at the FBI had already earned him dangerous enemies.
On the other side of the city, Zarek Kaelthorne had risen to power as the new boss of his father's gang. With his imposing build, long hair, and commanding presence, he was feared on the streets and respected by his men. Still, deep within, Zarek often longed for the days when life was simpler—when all that mattered was kicking a ball around with his childhood friends.
Hiroto Akazami, now back in Japan, had become one of the trusted lieutenants of the Yakuza. His life was shrouded in shadows, a constant dance with danger. Yet despite his cold demeanor, Hiroto's loyalty to his friends never faltered. From afar, he would occasionally reach out, as though reminding himself he was still more than just a weapon of the syndicate.
Meanwhile, Eryndal Veynor had chosen the brightest path of them all. He worked as a doctor in a major hospital, dedicating himself to saving lives. Among the five, he was the most "normal," the anchor of light who often served as the glue holding their friendship together.
And then there was Raven Elthorne. He had never gone to college, never settled into a steady job. Outwardly, his life seemed uneventful, ordinary even. But Kaeliano sensed something beneath the surface—a shadow behind Raven's eyes, a secret waiting to be revealed.
One evening, the five reunited in a small bar, the same place where they had often gathered in their youth. Laughter filled the air, glasses clinked together, and for a brief moment it felt like nothing had changed. Yet behind every smile, each carried a burden: the FBI, the underworld, the Yakuza, the hospital ward… and the hidden path of a hired killer.
What none of them knew was that this night of camaraderie would be their calm before the storm. Soon, their diverging roads would collide in a violent way, testing the very meaning of brotherhood.
After that simple gathering at the small bar, the night seemed calm. Kaeliano and Eryndal left together, chatting lightly inside the car. The streets were quiet, the city lights shimmering like fallen stars. Neither of them knew that the night was about to shatter their world.
From the opposite lane, a black SUV appeared, moving steadily. Suddenly, the silence was torn apart by the thunder of gunfire. The windshield exploded into shards. Eryndal slumped in his seat, blood pouring from his wounds. Kaeliano felt a burning sting tear through his shoulder, warm blood soaking into his shirt.
Despite the pain, his instincts and his loyalty as a friend were stronger than fear. With one hand pressing against his bleeding shoulder, the other clutched the steering wheel tight. The car swerved, but Kaeliano held on.
"Stay with me, Eryndal… don't close your eyes. I'll get you to the hospital," his voice cracked, raw with pain yet burning with determination.
Streetlights streaked past in blurs, horns echoed faintly, but Kaeliano's focus was locked on one thing—saving his best friend. His vision grew hazy, every breath sharp and shallow, but he kept pushing forward.
At last, the car screeched to a stop in front of the emergency entrance. With what little strength remained, Kaeliano forced the door open. His feet touched the ground, but his body gave way instantly, collapsing onto the pavement as blood spread beneath him.
"Help! Somebody, help! They're hurt!" a voice shouted.
People rushed toward them. Some lifted Kaeliano's nearly unconscious body, while others pulled open the car door to find Eryndal unconscious, drenched in blood.
Medical staff burst from the hospital doors, their footsteps pounding, shouts of "Code Blue!" filling the night. The harsh glare of the emergency room lights was the last thing Kaeliano saw before everything faded into darkness.
That night, the bond they had built since childhood was tested in the most brutal way—through blood, bullets, and the shadow of betrayal still waiting to be revealed.
The hospital that night was drenched in tension. Harsh white lights burned in the operating rooms, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed down sterile halls, and the air was thick with the sharp scent of blood and antiseptic.
Eryndal Veynor was rushed into surgery. His heartbeat was faint but steady, though the bullet had torn through critical parts of his body. The surgeons worked relentlessly, yet not one of them could promise survival. Time itself seemed to hold its breath.
In another wing, Kaeliano Draxmore lay on the operating table. The bullet had pierced his shoulder, tearing muscle and bone, but the doctors managed to save him after long, grueling hours. When his eyes slowly fluttered open, weakness overtook his body—but his thoughts burned with a single plea: Eryndal… don't leave us.
Moments later, Zarek Kaelthorne stormed into the hospital. His imposing frame and sharp gaze commanded the hall, but beneath that hardened expression was worry he couldn't conceal. He wasted no time asking about his brothers-in-arms.
When he learned Kaeliano had survived, Zarek allowed himself a breath of relief. But the weight of Eryndal's uncertain fate lingered heavy. Pulling out his phone, he dialed Hiroto's number.
Across the ocean, in a small American apartment, Hiroto Akazami was packing his luggage, preparing to return to Tokyo for Yakuza business. The call froze him mid-motion.
"What? Kaeliano shot? …Eryndal's in a coma?" His voice hardened, but his eyes betrayed a flash of anguish. Without hesitation, he slammed the suitcase shut, grabbed his jacket, and strode out. The flight to Japan could wait—his true family was bleeding in America.
Back in the waiting hall, Zarek sat restlessly, his stare locked on the sealed doors of the operating room. He tried calling Raven Elthorne. Once. Twice. Three times. Dead signal. Raven's phone wasn't just off—it was as if he'd vanished.
But Raven was far from gone.
In a dimly lit room, far from the cries of the hospital, he stood before a man in a black suit. The boss's voice rumbled low, cutting through the silence like a blade.
"Good work. The job is done. You'll receive half the promised payment. And more importantly—your family is free from their chains."
Raven's hands trembled at his sides. His lips stayed pressed shut, his head bowed.
"This is only the first condition," the boss continued. "Our client expects nothing less than perfection. You know what that means."
In the corner of the room, another man sat silently, face shadowed beneath the brim of a hat. His features were hidden, unreadable—but his presence was suffocating. Whoever he was, his eyes carried the weight of a secret too vast, too dangerous.
Raven's chest tightened. The boss's words echoed in his skull—your family is free.
But his heart screamed back, louder, burning: I just put a bullet in my brother.