Night fell over the city like velvet stretched over steel — smooth, dark, and full of hidden noise.
From the balcony of his villa overlooking the glowing skyline, Jackim Ochieng stood quietly, a glass of water in his hand. The world called him a billionaire, a genius, a mystery. But right now, under that sky, he looked like a man holding the weight of ten lives on his shoulders.
Below him, the city pulsed — car lights like veins of gold, horns echoing like heartbeat rhythms. Somewhere out there, people were laughing, loving, betraying, surviving.
And here, on this quiet hill, he was preparing for a war no one else could see coming.
Behind him, laughter broke the stillness.
Kelvin was sitting on the couch, feet up, munching on crisps like it was movie night.
Lina and Ariana sat opposite each other, awkwardly polite but trying. Melissa had joined them too, humming softly to some tune on her phone.
"Bro," Kelvin said through a mouthful, "you look like a man about to fight Thanos."
Jackim smirked faintly. "You mean Victor Han."
"Yeah, that guy," Kelvin said, waving a crisp. "Same energy, different currency."
Even Lina laughed softly. "If The Wheel is Thanos, then who are we?"
Kelvin grinned. "Obviously the broke Avengers."
The room erupted in brief laughter — the kind that comes not from humor, but from exhaustion trying to find oxygen.
Jackim turned to them, watching — really watching — the people who had become his strange little family. Kelvin, loyal even after betrayal. Lina, once his harshest critic, now one of his protectors. Ariana, the woman who saw both his light and his darkness and still stayed.
He realized then that for all the System's power, this was the real reward — people who still believed in him when the whole world wanted him gone.
Ariana looked at him quietly. "You haven't said a word all evening."
Jackim shrugged. "I'm listening."
"To what?"
He smiled faintly. "To peace. It's rare these days."
Kelvin raised his can of soda. "To peace, then. And to whatever madness comes next."
They all raised their glasses — a strange, clinking promise under dim golden light.
***
Later that night, when everyone had drifted to different corners of the villa, Jackim found himself sitting outside again, under the stars. The cool wind brushed against his face as if the night itself was whispering, Are you ready?
He didn't know.
He'd fought thugs, hackers, assassins, even his own doubts.
But this time it wasn't just survival — it was legacy. His father's secrets, his family's bloodline, The Wheel's shadow, the System's hidden truth.
The door behind him opened softly. Ariana stepped out, wrapped in a silk shawl, her hair messy from the long evening.
"Still awake?" she asked.
He nodded. "Can't sleep. Feels like the world's holding its breath."
She came beside him, slipping her hand into his.
"Do you ever regret it?" she whispered. "All of it — the bragging, the power, the fights?"
He looked at her, the corners of his mouth twitching into a half-smile. "Every day. But I'd regret it more if I'd stayed quiet."
Ariana rested her head on his shoulder. "Sometimes I think you brag not to show off… but to remind yourself you survived."
He chuckled quietly. "Maybe you understand me too well."
"Maybe," she said softly. "And maybe that's why I'm terrified."
He turned, cupping her face gently. "Don't be. Fear means we still have something to lose. That's what makes us human."
She looked into his eyes. "Then promise me something."
"What?"
"When it's all over… when you win, when the world finally stops trying to kill you—promise me you'll stop chasing storms."
He smiled sadly. "A storm doesn't stop because you ask it to. But maybe… I'll learn to walk in the rain without getting struck."
Ariana let out a small laugh through her tears. "That's the worst promise I've ever heard."
Jackim grinned. "I'm consistent."
***
Inside, Kelvin was passed out on the couch, half a bag of crisps spilled on his chest.
Lina had fallen asleep at the dining table, her head on a stack of reports.
Melissa sat near the piano, playing a soft tune that made the villa feel like a dream suspended in air.
The moment was fragile — so fragile it felt sacred.
Jackim stood, looking at all of them one last time before stepping into his private study.
The System glowed faintly in front of him, golden symbols flickering like fireflies.
> SYSTEM UPDATE: Level 4 Integration Complete.
New Feature Unlocked: Threat Awareness – Global Mode Active.
Warning: "Host is being traced by orbital satellites. Estimated attack window: 48 hours."
Jackim closed his eyes, exhaling slowly.
> "Would you like to activate Counter-Protocol?"
He whispered, "No. Not yet."
> "Understood."
The golden light dimmed.
He stared at his reflection in the glass — not the boy who once begged for recognition, not the outcast mocked at a reunion, not even the billionaire the world now worshipped.
He saw a man — tired, wounded, dangerous — and behind him, faces that made every wound worth it.
He whispered to the city below, "They think this is my empire. But they're wrong. It's my family."
Then, with one deep breath, he looked up as the sky flickered — a faint red light pulsing above the horizon.
Satellites locking position.
The Wheel was moving.
Kelvin's voice echoed faintly from the hall, half asleep. "Bro… don't die tomorrow, yeah? I still owe you lunch."
Jackim chuckled, his smile small but real. "Deal."
The System's core flared, casting golden light across the room like sunrise before battle.
He took one last look at Ariana sleeping on the couch, curled up like peace itself, then whispered to himself,
> "If they want war…"
He buttoned his black coat, eyes hard as stone.
> "…I'll show them what bragging really means."
The city outside trembled as the night wind rose, lights flickering like the breath of giants.
The screen flashed one last line:
> "System Upgrade: GLOBAL WAR MODE — INITIATING."