The night was unusually quiet.
Ochieng sat in his dimly lit apartment, eyes locked on the silver pocket watch resting on the table.
It didn't tick. It didn't move.
Yet, it felt alive.
A message from the Elders. A relic from a past he had buried.
He knew what they were doing—playing mind games.
Trying to remind him who he was.
Who he was supposed to be.
But they had underestimated him.
He wasn't the same boy they had abandoned years ago.
He was something else now.
And soon, they would regret waking him.
---
The next morning, as Ochieng walked onto the school grounds, the atmosphere was different.
Whispers followed him. Stares lingered longer than usual.
And then he saw it.
A large banner stretched across the courtyard:
"OCHEING VS. BRIAN – AFTER SCHOOL. DON'T MISS IT!"
Ochieng blinked.
So that's how he wants to play it.
Brian, standing at the center of a group, smirked as their eyes met.
The message was clear.
This wasn't just a fight.
It was a public execution.
At least, that's what Brian thought.
Ochieng almost laughed.
These kids had no idea what they were inviting.
---
As he made his way to class, a shadow blocked his path.
A man in a sleek black suit. Sunglasses.
Not a student. Not a teacher.
Ochieng kept walking, pretending not to notice.
But the man stepped closer and whispered:
"The Boss wants a word."
Ochieng didn't stop.
Didn't acknowledge him.
He simply replied, voice cold:
"I don't take orders."
The man stiffened.
His posture shifted—slightly, but Ochieng noticed.
A trained fighter.
A killer.
The man hesitated. Then, voice lower—
"It's not a request."
Ochieng finally turned his head.
And in that moment—just for a second—his eyes changed.
Not in color.
Not in shape.
But in depth.
The man saw something in them.
Something ancient. Something terrifying.
And in an instant, the assassin took a step back.
Not out of fear.
But out of survival instinct.
Ochieng smirked.
That's right. You feel it, don't you?
Without another word, he walked past.
The man did not follow.
Because he knew—
If he did…
He wouldn't be leaving this school alive.
---
By the time the final bell rang, the courtyard was packed.
Students stood on rooftops, lined the fences, waiting for blood.
Brian was already there, stretching, rolling his shoulders.
Ochieng arrived moments later, calm. Bored, even.
Brian cracked his knuckles.
"I hope you're ready."
Ochieng just tilted his head.
"Are you?"
Brian grinned.
Then charged.
Big mistake.
Ochieng stepped aside, fluid as water.
Brian's punch missed.
Before he could recover—
Ochieng's fingertips brushed against his ribs.
Just a light tap.
But Brian staggered as if struck by a hammer.
A gasp went through the crowd.
He barely caught himself, eyes wide.
What… was that?
Brian straightened, fuming.
Then swung again—harder, faster.
Ochieng didn't dodge.
He leaned in.
A whisper in Brian's ear:
"Too slow."
And then—
Ochieng's elbow met Brian's gut.
The impact sent him crashing to the ground.
Silence.
Then—
Chaos.
The crowd erupted in shock, disbelief.
Brian lay on his side, coughing.
He tried to push himself up.
But Ochieng…
Ochieng was already walking away.
The fight was over before it even began.
--
As Ochieng left the scene, his phone vibrated.
A single message.
"We are watching."
His fingers tightened around the device.
The Elders were growing impatient.
Brian was nothing.
The real storm was still coming.
And when it did—
The world would finally see who he really was.
---