Velmoria – Ten Years Ago
Blood. Smoke. Screams.
The grand Dragovic estate, once a symbol of power, was now a graveyard. Aleksander Dragovic stood frozen at the top of the staircase, his world collapsing before his eyes.
His mother's lifeless body lay sprawled on the marble floor, her once-elegant gown soaked in red. His father's final breaths echoed in the burning hallway, his trembling fingers reaching for a gun he would never fire.
The attack was precise, merciless. A massacre, orchestrated by the very people Aleksander's family had trusted.
From the shadows, a man stepped forward-Dominik Orlov.
Dressed in a crisp suit, untouched by the chaos around him, Orlov's cold smile sent a chill down Aleksander's spine.
"Your father was a fool to think he could challenge me," Orlov said, adjusting his cuffs. "But you, Aleksander... you have potential."
Aleksander's fists clenched. His heart pounded with rage, grief, hatred.
Then, another figure emerged-Ivan Petrovic, his childhood best friend, standing beside Orlov.
Betrayal burned deeper than any wound.
"Why?" Aleksander's voice was raw, broken.
Ivan didn't answer. He only looked away as the gunfire resumed.
A rough hand grabbed Aleksander's arm. His father's most loyal bodyguard, Viktor, pulled him toward the secret passage.
"Live, Aleksander," Viktor hissed. "Survive. And when the time comes... take everything from them."
With one final glance at the ruins of his family, Aleksander ran into the darkness.
That night, Aleksander Dragovic died.
In his place, a man forged in vengeance was born.
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