A City Set on Fire
War had always been written in the bones of Holloway City.
Skyscrapers rose like monuments to greed. Shadows stretched long across pavement soaked in history and blood. Every corner whispered secrets. Every face wore a mask.
Damien Voss knew it the moment he returned.
The city didn't want a king.
It already had giants—gargantuan men bloated with power and arrogance. Men who owned judges, police chiefs, and politicians. Men who thought themselves immortal.
But giants fall hardest.
And Damien wasn't here to play their game.
He was here to burn the board.
The Alliance of Enemies
High above the chaos, in a penthouse built from stolen money and silent threats, five men gathered beneath golden chandeliers.
The air was thick with tension and cigar smoke.
Victor Kane sat at the head of the table, his scarred knuckles tapping rhythmically against crystal glass. Cold. Calculated. A man with a vendetta older than most grudges.
To his left, Richard Voss—Damien's father in name only. His presence soured the room like rot in a fresh wound.
Next, Nathan Aldridge, media baron, king of the headlines—and lies.
Harlan Graves, the seafaring tyrant who moved drugs and weapons under the guise of shipping containers.
And finally, Donovan Pierce, banker of the corrupt. A man whose handshake was a death sentence in disguise.
"You all know why we're here," Victor said, eyes like daggers. "The boy's made himself a problem."
"He's not a boy anymore," Richard muttered, jaw clenched. "He's becoming something else."
Nathan scoffed. "He's a myth. They talk about him in whispers now. Some think he's unstoppable."
"Legends," Victor said coldly, "bleed like anyone else."
Donovan leaned forward, swirling amber liquid in his glass. "Then we hit him where it hurts. Starve his finances. Break his infrastructure. Bury his name."
Richard's voice was bitter. "No. We don't just hurt him. We erase him."
"And his allies," Harlan added. "We make them disappear."
Victor smiled. No warmth. No mercy.
"Then we're agreed."
Five glasses clinked together.
The war had a name now.
And it was Damien Voss.
The First Strike
They moved fast.
Too fast for most.
Within forty-eight hours, the city turned against him.
His hotel empire—suddenly under federal investigation.
His stock portfolio—frozen, then plummeting.
His allies—spooked by threats, tempted by bribes, or worse… disappearing.
Damien's warehouses were torched. His offices raided. His charity foundation accused of fraud.
Pierce shut down his accounts.
Aldridge painted him as a tyrant in the press.
Victor's men made subtle calls. Politicians listened.
Richard Voss?
He simply watched, waiting for his son to drown.
But what they didn't understand—
Was that Damien didn't drown.
He swam in the fire.
The King's Counterattack
While the giants celebrated their siege, Damien Voss sharpened his blade.
He sat in a darkened room with his most trusted allies—few, but fierce. Smoke curled from his cigar as maps, names, and data covered the screen in front of him.
"They've underestimated you," said Nova, his head strategist. "They think you'll retaliate emotionally."
Damien exhaled, the smoke curling like a serpent.
"Then let's show them what precision looks like."
Move One: Market Carnage
The next morning, chaos erupted on the stock exchange.
Companies linked to Victor Kane and Harlan Graves lost billions overnight. Acquisitions failed. Buyouts collapsed.
A shadow investment firm—Blackthorn Holdings—had pulled strings no one saw coming.
It belonged to Damien.
And it had been bleeding them dry for weeks.
The headlines screamed:
"THE BLACKWOOD EFFECT: Is Damien Voss Crashing the Market?"
Move Two: Financial Execution
At exactly 9:03 a.m., Donovan Pierce received a call.
He answered with a smirk.
By 9:05, that smirk was gone.
Regulators raided his bank.
A leaked report hit every major news outlet—fraud, offshore laundering, illegal investments in sanctioned zones.
Clients panicked.
By noon, Donovan's bank was hemorrhaging.
By nightfall, he was no longer the richest man in Holloway.
Move Three: A Knife in the Back
Richard Voss paced his study, fingers drumming.
His top lieutenant—Jasper Hale—walked in.
Calm.
Too calm.
Richard didn't see the betrayal coming until Jasper laid a signed contract on the desk.
"I work for Damien now," he said simply.
Richard's face twisted in fury. "You ungrateful bastard—"
"It's not about gratitude," Jasper replied. "It's about survival."
Two others followed.
Richard's inner circle?
Shattered.
Move Four: The Personal Touch
Victor Kane walked into his office late that evening, tired and smug.
He reached for his daily espresso.
Found a note instead.
His assistant—his trusted gatekeeper of twelve years—was gone.
So was the hard drive from his safe.
And the list of dirty secrets he thought no one knew he kept?
Now belonged to Damien Voss.
A Message in Blood
Later that night, an envelope arrived at Victor's front gate.
Hand-delivered. No stamp. No name.
Inside: A single black card.
Elegant. Matte. Heavy.
In silver ink, just three words:
"This is war."
Victor read it twice.
Then he crushed it in his fist.
Across the room, Richard stood silent, jaw locked.
"You think he's bluffing?" Richard asked.
Victor looked at the shattered whiskey glass on the floor.
"No," he said.
"He's declaring domination."
The Rise of the Monster
They had tried to assassinate a prince.
But they'd awakened a king.
And worse?
He wasn't playing to win.
He was playing to end them.
The War of the Giants had begun.
But Damien Voss wasn't one of the giants.
He was something older.
Something darker.
The monster in their nightmares.
And now?
He was wide awake.