The Damned Path: Chronicles of Damien

War had officially begun.

Kross had drawn first blood, but I wasn't about to let that stand. If he thought I'd crawl into a hole and lick my wounds, he didn't know me at all.

The city felt different now. Tighter. The streets carried a new weight, like they were watching, waiting for the next move. The underworld was holding its breath, waiting to see if I'd bite back—or roll over.

Spoiler alert: I wasn't the rolling-over type.

Leo, Razor, and I gathered in the back of an abandoned auto shop we were using as a temporary base. Blueprints of Kross's operations were laid out on the metal table, illuminated by a single flickering bulb.

I tapped a finger on one of the maps. "This is our next target."

Razor leaned over. "His east-side supply chain? Bold."

Leo frowned. "It's risky. Kross will expect retaliation."

"Exactly." I met his eyes. "But he won't expect where it's coming from."

I turned to Razor. "You said they moved differently this time. More organized. More precise."

Razor nodded, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah. Like they knew my defenses before they even stepped in."

That confirmed my suspicion. Kross had someone feeding him intel. Someone close.

Which meant we had a rat.

"Before we strike, we clean house." I swept my gaze across the room. "I want eyes on everyone. Every deal. Every move. Someone's talking to Kross, and I want them in the ground before they get another word out."

Razor smirked. "Now that's the Damien I remember."

Leo, ever the cautious one, sighed. "And what happens when we find this rat?"

I flicked my knife open, the blade gleaming under the dim light.

"We make an example out of them."

The next 24 hours were a blur of surveillance, whispers, and old favors being called in.

It didn't take long to find our leak.

His name was Vic—a low-level runner, someone I'd barely noticed before. But that was the problem. Kross had gotten to him because no one paid attention to the small fry.

By the time we caught up to him, he was already trying to run.

We cornered him in a back alley, his breath ragged as he pressed against the brick wall, eyes darting between me, Razor, and Leo.

"I—I didn't have a choice," Vic stammered, hands raised. "Kross—he threatened my family."

I stared him down, expression unreadable. "You should've come to me."

He swallowed hard. "Would you have protected them?"

No hesitation. "Yes."

Vic looked like he wanted to believe me. But belief wasn't enough to erase what he'd done.

I stepped closer, the tip of my knife pressing against his ribs. "How much does Kross know?"

"H-He knows about your supply routes. Your safe houses. But not all of them—I didn't give him everything!"

"Not yet," I murmured.

Vic trembled. "Please, Damien. I didn't want this."

I studied him for a long moment.

Then, without breaking eye contact, I pulled the knife back—and plunged it into his gut.

Vic gasped, choking on his own breath as he slumped forward.

I caught him, whispering into his ear. "It's not personal."

The life drained from his eyes as I let him slide to the ground.

Leo exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Shit."

Razor just grinned. "Guess that's one problem solved."

I wiped the blood from my blade. "Now we go after the bigger one."

The war wasn't coming.

It was already here.

And I was ready for it.