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The wind howled through the night as rain poured down in a relentless drizzle. Kai stood in the clearing, soaked to the bone, breathing heavily as he watched Alexios. Lightning flashed, illuminating the scene in eerie, flickering light. Alexios didn’t move; his silhouette remained perfectly still, arms wide open, almost as if inviting Kai to attack. His presence was commanding, his stance unyielding, and every raindrop that hit the ground seemed to echo the tension between them.
“Is that all you’ve got, *Storm Striker*?” Alexios’ voice cut through the air, deep and unwavering, with a mocking edge. “I expected more from the former top member of the Cursed Angels.”
Kai froze. His breath caught in his throat as he stared at Alexios, stunned. He hadn’t heard that name—his old nickname—in a long time. Memories he had buried deep inside, memories he fought to forget, began to resurface.
*No… how does he know?*
Suddenly, everything around him faded into darkness, replaced by scenes from a past he had tried so hard to escape.
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It was three years ago. Kai was barely sixteen when he joined the Cursed Angels, a secretive organization that operated in the shadows, recruiting teenagers who were tired of the injustices they faced.
Kai stood in an alleyway, facing three older boys, their faces contorted with cruel delight. “You think you’re tough?” one of them taunted, shoving a younger kid into the dirt. “You got something to say, huh?”
Kai’s eyes narrowed. Back then, he was just an ordinary teenager, but something inside him couldn’t stand to see the strong prey on the weak. He stepped forward, fists clenched, heart pounding.
“Hey,” Kai called out, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. “Leave him alone.”
The bullies turned to him, sneering. “Or what?”
The fight that followed was swift. Kai, with his sharp instincts and quick reflexes, took them down one by one, leaving them groaning on the pavement. But as he stood there, panting, he felt a pair of eyes watching him from the shadows.
“You’ve got potential,” a voice spoke, soft yet commanding. Kai spun around to see a figure in a black hoodie and a white porcelain mask. “How would you like to put those skills to better use?”
That was the night Kai was introduced to the Cursed Angels, a mercenary group that claimed to be vigilantes, fighting for justice against bullies. They called themselves ‘angels’ because, like angels, they claimed to be protectors of the innocent. Each member had a nickname, an alias to shield their true identity, and Kai became known as the *Storm Striker*. He earned the name through his devastating kicks and lightning-fast movements.
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The Cursed Angels organization emerged as a response to a unique challenge in law enforcement.
Due to legal protections for minors, traditional police forces found themselves limited in their ability to effectively address criminal activities involving teenagers.
This gap in the system created a need for a specialized group capable of intervening in situations where standard law enforcement couldn't operate freely.
Recognizing this necessity, the Cursed Angels were formed.
Their mission seemed noble at first—taking down bullies, defending the helpless. But as Kai moved up the ranks, reaching the top 4th position, he began to see the cracks. Missions that started with a sense of justice quickly became tainted. He was told to target people who weren’t necessarily bullies but were in the way of someone’s ambition or agenda. Politicians, rich elites, and influential figures started funding their operations, using the Cursed Angels as weapons to achieve their hidden goals. The organization became a puppet, its strings pulled by those lurking in the shadows of society.
The breaking point for Kai came during a mission where he was ordered to attack a teenager whose only crime was standing up to a local councilor’s son. Kai refused, and it nearly cost him his life. Leaving the Cursed Angels wasn’t an option—no one just walked away. But Kai did, and he paid the price with scars that would never fully heal.
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Kai blinked, snapping back to the present as another clap of thunder shook the ground. Alexios hadn’t moved. He still stood there, that same confident smirk plastered on his face, rain dripping from his hair. “What’s the matter, Storm Striker? Did I touch a nerve?”
“Why are you doing this?” Kai demanded, his voice raw, but his heart no longer felt heavy. He had already made peace with his past. There was nothing left to hide.
Alexios ignored Kai's question. “It’s a shame, really. I had high expectations for you, Storm Striker. But perhaps you’ve gone soft.” Alexios’s smirk widened..He raised his wrist, tapping a small device. “You’ve got five minutes, Kai. Show me what you’ve got. I’ll even give you a handicap—one spot. I won’t move unless you try to run or throw something at me. This is your moment, Storm Striker. Let’s see if you’ve still got that spark.”
Kai stared at him, his mind racing. The rain fell harder now, each droplet feeling like a needle against his skin. He could feel his heart pounding, but it wasn’t fear driving him—it was something else. Acceptance.
Kai’s lips curled into a faint smile. *This is it...* He slid his hand into his pocket, fingers trembling not from fear, but from the weight of what he was about to do. The small recording device had been running this entire time, capturing every word exchanged between them. *Nero needs to know…*
He pressed a button, sending the audio file to Nero’s email. A sense of relief washed over him, knowing that no matter what happened next, the truth would be known. *This isn't just my fight anymore.*
He straightened, his eyes meeting Alexios’. “You talk too much,” Kai said, his tone light, even playful, despite the gravity of the situation. He rolled his shoulders, settling into his stance. “Alright then, you want to see the Storm Striker? You’ve got him.”
Lightning cracked across the sky, briefly illuminating Kai’s face. His eyes burned with an intensity that hadn’t been there before. All the fear, the uncertainty, the pain he’d carried—it was gone.
He inhaled deeply, the cold night air filling his lungs, grounding him. Each raindrop that hit his skin felt like a reminder of every fight, every battle, every struggle he had faced to get to this point. And with each breath, he felt the weight lift, bit by bit, until all that remained was clarity.
He exhaled, a sense of calm washing over him, as he whispered to himself, “This is my last stand.”
He launched himself forward, fists raised, a roar tearing from his throat as he charged at Alexios with everything he had.
And in that moment, as the thunder roared and the rain poured, Kai felt something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.
Freedom.
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