The city skyline stretched endlessly before her, a sea of cold steel and concrete, glittering in the dark under a thick blanket of rainclouds. Kaela stood motionless on the edge of the balcony, her dark cloak billowing in the wind. Her eyes, sharp and unyielding, stared into the distance, where the Lord's compound lay hidden. She could feel it—the tension in the air, the anticipation of the battle to come. And she reveled in it.
Behind her, the low hum of machinery filled the space as her operatives moved with precision, preparing for the assault. Rows upon rows of troops, weapons, and armored vehicles lined the streets below, an army larger and more powerful than most had ever seen. Helicopters hovered silently above, their engines ready, while armored tanks rolled into position, their heavy cannons glinting under the dim light.
Kaela was preparing for war. And this time, she would not fail.
Years Earlier – Kaela's Past
Kaela had not always been the ruthless, cold-hearted leader she was now. Once, many years ago, she had been different—softer, warmer, human. But that life felt like a distant memory, something she barely allowed herself to think about. Still, in the quiet moments before battle, the ghosts of her past sometimes crept back, reminding her of everything she had lost. Everything that had been taken from her.
It had all started in a small village, nestled in the mountains far away from the corruption and violence of the outside world. Kaela had been happy there. She had a family—a mother and a father who loved her, a younger brother she adored. They had lived simply, far from the dangers that plagued the rest of the world.
Her father, a humble farmer, had always told her that the world was a cruel place, that their peaceful life in the village was a blessing. Kaela had believed him. She had thought their little corner of the world would always be safe. Untouched.
She had been wrong.
One cold winter night, the village was attacked. Not by bandits or rival factions, but by soldiers—mercenaries sent by one of the powerful warlords who controlled the region. Kaela's village had been caught in the middle of a territorial dispute, and to the warlords, it was nothing more than a piece of land. A bargaining chip in a larger game of power.
The soldiers came without warning, setting fire to the houses, dragging people from their beds. Kaela had been 16 at the time, old enough to understand what was happening, but too young to stop it. She had hidden with her brother, clutching him tightly as they listened to the screams of their neighbors, the crackle of flames as their village burned.
When the soldiers found them, they were dragged into the village square, where the rest of the survivors had been gathered. Her parents were already there, bound and beaten, their faces bloodied. Kaela had never seen her father look so broken. The strong, kind man who had always protected her now knelt on the ground, powerless.
Kaela had tried to fight, tried to reach her parents, but a soldier had struck her across the face, sending her to the ground. Her brother had screamed, trying to help her, but he was too small, too weak to do anything.
The warlord, a cold and calculating man with dead eyes, had stepped forward, his voice calm as he addressed the terrified villagers. He had no interest in their lives—only in sending a message to the rival faction that had dared to challenge him. The villagers were nothing more than collateral damage.
Kaela's father had begged for mercy, pleaded with the warlord to spare his family. But the warlord had only smiled, a cruel, twisted smile that still haunted Kaela's dreams.
In front of everyone, the warlord had executed Kaela's parents. Her father first, then her mother. A cold, efficient killing meant to break the spirit of everyone watching. Kaela had screamed, struggled against the soldiers holding her down, but it was useless. The warlord hadn't even flinched. He had killed them as easily as one might swat a fly.
But that wasn't the worst of it.
After her parents were dead, the warlord had turned his attention to Kaela and her brother. He had looked them over, assessing them with the same cold detachment he had shown toward the others. Then, with a flick of his hand, he had ordered his soldiers to take them away.
Her brother had cried out, clinging to her, begging her not to let them take him. Kaela had fought with everything she had, but the soldiers had been too strong. They had ripped him from her arms, dragging him away into the darkness, his screams echoing in her ears.
That had been the last time Kaela had seen her brother.
She had been taken, too, sold into servitude for one of the warlord's allies. For years, she had been a prisoner, forced to endure horrors she never spoke of. But the worst part wasn't the pain or the fear—it was the silence. The not knowing what had happened to her brother. Whether he had survived. Whether he had suffered the same fate as her parents.
It was during those years of captivity that Kaela had changed. The warmth, the kindness, the hope that had once filled her heart was replaced with something darker. Hatred. Vengeance.
She had vowed, in those cold, dark nights, that she would never be powerless again. That she would never let anyone take from her what she had lost. And when the time came, she had escaped. She had fought her way out, killing the men who had held her captive. She had taken control of her fate, and from that day forward, she had never looked back.
She had risen through the ranks of the underworld, using her intelligence and ruthlessness to build an empire of her own. She had become what she once feared—a force of nature, a weapon. She had no family, no ties, no weakness.
Her heart had become as cold as the winter night she had lost everything.
And now, she had a new target.
Present Day – Kaela's War
Kaela snapped back to the present, her sharp green eyes narrowing as she watched her army preparing below. The past was the past. She had no room for sentimentality, no time for regret. What mattered now was the future—her future. And Ryan, the Lord, stood in her way.
The soldiers under her command were some of the best in the world. Mercenaries, assassins, operatives who had served in wars across the globe. They followed her not because they feared her, but because they believed in her. They believed in her vision—a world where power belonged to those strong enough to take it. Where weakness was stamped out, and only the ruthless survived.
Her forces moved with military precision, each unit preparing for the assault. Tanks rumbled into place, their heavy cannons pointed toward the horizon. Helicopters circled overhead, ready to strike. And at the center of it all stood Kaela, watching, calculating.
Ryan thought he was invincible. He thought his Ravens could protect him. But Kaela had faced worse. She had survived worse. And she would show him that there was no such thing as invincibility.
She turned to one of her lieutenants, a sharp-eyed woman who had been with Kaela for years. "Are the preparations complete?"
The lieutenant nodded. "Everything is in place. We're ready to move on your command."
Kaela smiled, though there was no warmth in it. "Good. Let's show the Lord that no one is untouchable."
The lieutenant hesitated for a moment, her voice quieter when she spoke again. "Are you sure about this, Kaela? The Lord is… dangerous. We've seen what he's capable of."
Kaela's eyes flashed with something dark. "I'm not afraid of him," she said coldly. "He thinks he's untouchable, but he's wrong. Everyone has a weakness."
She turned back to the horizon, her gaze fixed on the distant skyline. "He'll learn that soon enough."