Chapter 1 The Fire That Never Died

Matherson was just twenty-one, a young man who had known wealth, comfort, and the fast life of cash that came easy. Born into a life of privilege, he grew up in a world where money answered every question, and problems disappeared with a swipe of a card. His father, Mr. Jayson, was a well-known investigative blogger outspoken, bold, and unafraid to expose the truth, no matter how dangerous it was.

But one day shattered everything.

It was supposed to be a regular evening. Matherson was in the bathroom, barely paying attention, casually scrolling through his phone while peeing blissfully unaware that it would be the last time he ever saw his family alive.

In the living room, his parents and two younger sisters were chatting, enjoying the warmth of a peaceful evening. Then came the knock.

A group of masked men stormed in cold, calculated, merciless. They weren't burglars. They were assassins.

They demanded one thing: a video disc.

Mr. Jayson, fearless as ever, stood his ground. "I can't give it to you," he said, over and over, even as they threatened his life. He knew what that disc contained. And he knew giving it up meant surrendering the truth.

But the assassins didn't care.

First his wife, then his daughters. One by one, they were slaughtered in front of him, and finally, Mr. Jayson himself. When they were done, they burned the house to the ground.

But Matherson survived.

Hidden in the bathroom, frozen in terror, he heard every scream, every gunshot, every moment of silence that followed. And when the fire began to swallow the home that once held all his memories, he escaped into the darkness, alone.

Later that night, when the flames had died down and only ashes remained, Matherson returned to the charred ruins. The smoke still lingered. The pain hung heavy. That's when he found it his father's phone, half-buried in ash, ringing.

He picked it up.

Silence. Then a voice.

"I know you're alive, Matherson. I'm coming for you."

Click.

No name. No trace. Just the promise of death.

Matherson ran. He fled the city, disappearing into the shadows of downtown where no one knew his name, where the past couldn't reach him.

Five Years Later

The boy they thought had died that night was no longer a boy.

Matherson had changed. Hardened. Sharpened by pain, fueled by loss, and driven by a single purpose revenge.

The time had come to finish what they started.

And this time, he wouldn't run.