Striker of the Gods

"You're late," Caos said, voice low, each word slicing through the silence like a blade being sharpened. He stepped forward, gravel crunching under his boots, eyes locked on Jack. The years hadn't dulled the edge in his gaze—they'd honed it.

Jack spread his hands, palms up. A gesture that might've passed for peace, if not for the tension in his jaw."Didn't think you'd show, Caleb," he said. "Thought you'd be smarter by now."

"Don't call me that," Caos snapped. His voice cracked like a whip. "Caleb died the day you sold him out. You think a new name makes you clean, Jack? You think I forgot?"

The air between them sparked—hot, heavy, electric. A rivalry born in blood and betrayal. Ten years ago, they'd been brothers in everything but name, running heists with a crew that trusted them blindly.Caos was the mind—three steps ahead, always.Jack, the silver tongue. The face.Then a job went south. Jack cut a deal with the feds, tossed Caos to the wolves. Three years in a cell. Three years to burn. Three years to bleed. Three years to become this.

Now here they stood. Caos's fury roared beneath his skin—but under it, something worse: grief. Grief for the friend he lost the night the lights went out.

Jack's eyes softened. Just a flicker. A crack in his armor."I didn't have a choice, Caos. You know how it was. They had me cornered—"

"Cornered?" Caos laughed—cold, hollow. It echoed off the warehouse walls like a ghost."You had a choice. You chose you. You always did."

Jack stepped closer, lowering his voice."You think I wanted to? You think I sleep easy? I've been running from that day just like you."

Caos's hands curled into fists, knuckles bone-white."Then why are you here?" he asked, low and dangerous. "To beg? To gloat? Or to see if I'd finally put a bullet in you?"

Jack didn't flinch. His hand hovered near his pocket."I'm here because we're not done. Not with each other. Not with what we started. There's a job. One last score."He paused, gaze steady."You in? Or you gonna keep chasing ghosts?"

Silence. Caos didn't move.

His thoughts spun—Jack's words colliding with a decade of pain. Whatever this job was, it was bait. But it stirred something. Maybe revenge. Maybe closure. Maybe both.

His boot scraped against the gravel as he took a step back. The space between them felt miles wide.

Not yet.

Caos's voice came soft, calm, and final."Walk away, Order."A pause."I won't repeat myself next time."

To be continued...