It was like the ground itself trembled when Darksteel showed up. I knew the name. Everyone knew the name. Darksteel had once been one of us—a powerful force, a neutral player who'd seen both families as pawns to his own game. But he'd disappeared years ago, vanished into the shadows, as if he was nothing more than a ghost. No one expected him to return. At least, I sure didn't. But then, he did.
And he didn't come alone.
The sight of him standing in front of the gates with an army of outcasts—the kinds of people who had been pushed to the fringes, rejected by both the Blackthorns and the Vortexes—told me everything I needed to know. This wasn't just some power grab. This was an uprising. Darksteel wasn't here to make alliances. He was here to burn everything down and rebuild it in his image. And he had the numbers to do it.
I watched from the balcony of the Blackthorn estate as the chaos unfolded. Darksteel's army was huge, their eyes filled with anger, with hunger. They were the kind of people who had nothing left to lose—and that made them the most dangerous kind of enemy.
When Darksteel spoke, his voice carried, cutting through the crowd like a blade. "The reign of the Blackthorns and the Vortexes is over. This neighborhood will belong to me now." His words were simple, but they held a promise—a promise of blood and destruction.
I didn't have to look around to see how the rest of the neighborhood reacted. Fear spread like wildfire. People began to scatter, whispers of rebellion filling the air. Darksteel had come back to take control, and he was going to do it one bloody step at a time.
What struck me the most was the realization that, for the first time in years, both the Blackthorns and the Vortexes had a common enemy. Darksteel's return wasn't just an inconvenience. It was a full-blown threat, and one neither family could face alone. We'd been enemies for so long, it felt strange to think of working together. But now, it was the only option.
Empress called for an emergency meeting. Noctis was already there when I walked into the room, his face set in a grim line. It wasn't often I saw him like this—serious, focused, desperate even. "We have no choice," Empress said, her voice low, but laced with determination. "Darksteel is too strong. We must join forces—at least for now."
Noctis looked at her, a flicker of hesitation passing through his eyes. "I don't trust you, Empress. You're a Blackthorn. And I'm no fool. This alliance is temporary."
"I didn't expect anything else," Empress replied, her voice biting. "But it's either that, or we let Darksteel destroy everything we've worked for. I didn't build the Blackthorn name just to watch it burn."
I could see the conflict in both of them. There was a history between the Blackthorns and the Vortexes, a legacy of power struggles and bloodshed. But this time, something was different. Darksteel's army wasn't just a threat to one family—it was a threat to both. And as much as it pissed them both off, they were stuck with each other.
The decision was made. But the uneasy alliance wasn't going to be easy to hold together.
But just as we were preparing to move forward, something even worse came to light.
Vex. Frost. They'd been playing us from the start.
I couldn't believe it at first. How could Vex, someone I'd fought beside, someone I'd trusted, be working with Darksteel? The same went for Frost, that cold, calculating figure from the Vortex family who always played both sides. Turns out, they hadn't just been manipulating the situation—they'd been working with Darksteel from the beginning, feeding him information, pushing both families to the brink of war, so he could step in and take control.
It was like a slap in the face. I should've known. There was always something off about Vex and Frost—too clever, too smooth. They'd been stirring the pot behind our backs, weakening both families from within. And now, they were positioning themselves to take advantage of the chaos.
"Traitors," I muttered under my breath, but it wasn't just the words that stung. It was the realization that we had been the ones played. Vex and Frost had known that Darksteel was coming back. They'd known what he was planning—and instead of warning us, they'd been feeding him everything we knew, pushing us into a war we couldn't win, just so they could come out on top.
I wasn't sure what the hell we were supposed to do now. Darksteel's army was at our gates. Vex and Frost were backstabbing us all. And here we were—Blackthorns and Vortexes, forced into a fragile alliance, trying to fight a war on two fronts.
But there was no going back. The storm had already hit. And we were all caught in it.
As I stood there, staring out at the horizon, I realized one thing: The battle for control of this neighborhood wasn't going to be fought in public rituals or power plays anymore. It was going to be fought in the streets, in the blood of those who had been manipulated, betrayed, and broken.
And when the dust finally settled, only one family would be left standing. I just wasn't sure which one it would be.