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                             FIRST CHAPTER:
                  THE BEGINING OF THE END.

             DIRGE OF THE SOUTHERN CROSS:
               “WHEN THE BLOOD WE CHOSE
             BURNED CLEANER THAN WATER.”
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        “You ever think about how we got here?
        One by one, they either died.. or turned.”
        “We  bled  for  this. Buried  more  friends
        than   enemies.   But   you   and  me,  we
        are still standing.”

         “Standing?  Feels   more  like  crawling
         through        glass        most        days.” 
        “I  would   crawl   with   you  through  hell
         itself, brother. We  did  not  make  it this
         far   to    fall   apart    now,    did    we?”

        “You  know  it better  than anyone. Yes,
         for the fallen ones.  For the forsaken.”

                                      /  /  /

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The city’s decay is nothing compared
to the poison in their veins. Blood
stains the throne, and they are the
ones who built it. (The Iron Bloodline.)
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To others, it is a throne of power, but every man in their ranks must fall on his sword before yielding to his foes. Beneath the steel bones of a decaying city, two forces collide, neither holy nor innocent. The war brewing between them is not born from ambition or chaos alone; it is born from blood, from betrayal, and from a silence that has screamed too long in the darkness. They do not seek justice; they seek retribution. For them, vengeance is not merely an act, it is survival. Each strike they make is a prayer to the dead, and each step forward is a descent further into the fire they have chosen to walk through. Betrayal runs deep, trust is a gamble, and when the past finally catches up, it will not knock, it will kick the damn door down.
. . .

YOU CAN NAME IT VENGEANCE, WE
REMEMBER IT AS THE SCREAM
THAT NEVER FOUND ESCAPE.
. . .

They walk soaked in the blood of deals made and lives lost, traversing a city decaying from the inside out. Two sides, both armed to the teeth, are ready to spill the same blood that has seeped into their souls. This is not a grand war; it is a grudge, a vendetta, a damn reckoning long overdue. There is no glory, no honor, only retribution for a debt that can never be paid. Every punch, every bullet, is a prayer to the ghosts of those left behind. With every step they take, they sink deeper into the flames they have chosen to walk through. Every wrong avenged, every move they make is a calculated strike, not just against their enemies, but against the ghosts of their pasts.

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             [15/05/25] KNIVES BETWEEN KIN:
         BURIED OATHS AND BURNING STREETS.

         How far are they willing
         to go before they become 
         the very thing they are trying
         to destroy? 

         Both sides bleed. Both sides
         have scars. And both are
         ready to take it to the edge.
         They have tasted ashes long   
         enough, now they hunger for
         annihilation towards a reckoning.
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SCENE ONE : THE CALLING.
BORN FROM THOUGHT, BOUND BY FIRE.

They buried the truth. Then they dug it up
with their bare hands. They will never
understand the rage of something lingers
or the mercy they chose not to give. So
anchor your heart before you lose it to the
deep. Breathe first, before the fall begins.

BE STILL BEFORE ALL TURNS TO
EMBERS, AND DO NOT DILUTE THE
TRUTH; LET IT CRAWL IF IT MUST.


(I.) DIRECTIONS FOR COMPLIANCE. Every battle begins with a goal, but the fire to conquer is what sets the wheels in motion. It is the drive inside you that leads the charge.

(II.) THE CHARGES INVOLVED. The paper demands more than just thought; it asks for sacrifice—what is given up remains unseen. More than just time, it takes something deeper, something real.

(III.) THE APPLICATION TO FILL OUT. Burn it, destroy it. Yet this paper still carries the weight of your mission. No fire can erase what must be written; it will not be undone.

(IV.) PROFICIENCY BADGES. Something once imagined in the minds of fighters now stands between the heat and the will to endure. Before you even blinked, it was already present.

(V.) HERALDS OF DEVOTION. What is earned through fire is not loud—it breathes with quiet authority, ever felt, never forgotten, and does not need to be spoken to be felt.


“Long Before You Stepped Onto the
Floor, It Had Already Chosen You,
For the Flames Are Both Your
Creation and Your End.”
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         WHAT THE WIND CARRIES ITS RIDDLES.
          (Written by the Eminent | Long Pages.)
 

         From the Hush of Thought:
         It is the first step  in  a  game played in
         shadows,  where   each  question  is  a
         trap  and  every  answer  a   whisper of
         the  truth  that  wants   to  stay hidden.
         Fill  each  section  carefully, as  if  your
         answers  themselves  are  the currency
         of a secret  you have  yet to fully grasp.

                                       To the Hush of Tread:
         Do  not  let  haste guide you.  This  is a
         puzzle    that  must  be pieced together
         with    precision.  What  you  fill  in  the
         blanks   may     be    the   very   key   to
         unraveling what has been sealed away
         for far too long.ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

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    (&.) YOU CALLED IT THE CONCLUSION,
    BUT BY DO  THEIR  SHADOWS REFUSE
    TO WALK ALONE? (So Be It. Keep Still.)

You attempt to sever its grip, but it clings. It settles where you once sought peace, among things you had hoped were gone for good. Their gaze follows like a chain, even in the absence of sound. Just when you convince yourself it is the end of it all, you find that they have been there all along.

             (...) From the Edge of the City,
                    Originally Released in May 2025.

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