the order of ghul

the order of ghul. part 2

Richard was on a phone call as Reyes entered his office. She waited patiently, arms crossed, until he finally ended the call.

"Reyes," he acknowledged, leaning back in his chair. "Took you long enough."

Without a word, Reyes stepped forward and dropped the file onto his desk. The thick stack of documents landed with a heavy thud.

Richard raised an eyebrow. "What is this?" he asked, reaching for the file.

"Something you’re going to want to see," Reyes replied, her voice firm.

He flipped the cover open, his expression shifting as he scanned the contents. His fingers hesitated over the emblem stamped on the top page—a skull with crossed blades and revolvers.

Reyes crossed her arms. "Ever heard of the Order of Ghul?"

Richard exhaled sharply, rubbing his temple. "That was an old investigation, years ago. But there was never any real evidence that they existed, so the case was closed." He looked up. "Where did you find these?"

"In their cabin," Reyes said.

Richard’s brows furrowed. "You think this is connected to Lyra's twin sister’s disappearance?"

Reyes nodded. "It’s too much of a coincidence."

Richard flipped another page, scanning through old records—until something made him freeze.

"Jesus," he muttered under his breath.

Reyes leaned in, her eyes narrowing. "What?"

Richard tapped a specific line on one of the documents. "According to the original investigation, all their victims were girls."

Reyes felt a chill creep up her spine. "Do you think they have her?"

Richard kept flipping through the pages, his movements quick and sharp—until he stopped again, his face paling.

"They have her, Reyes." He turned the file toward her, pointing at a name printed in bold letters:

Nyx Ghul will be reborn. She shall be called Zahir Ghul.

Reyes inhaled sharply. Her fists clenched at her sides. "We need to find her," she said, glancing through the glass window at Lyra, who sat at Reyes' desk, absentmindedly eating a chocolate bar.

Richard sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Reyes turned back to him, her voice colder now. "What happened to the other girls that were taken? Were they ever found?"

Richard leaned back in his chair, his face grim. "No, they weren’t. We just assumed they either got lost and couldn’t find their way home, wandered too deep into the forest, or drowned. Some might have been attacked by wild animals." He hesitated before adding, "It’s not just here. Cases of missing girls like this happen all over the world."

Reyes clenched her jaw. "And no one thought to take this seriously?" she snapped. "Girls have been disappearing, and they just dismissed it?"

Richard looked away, his fingers drumming against the desk. "Without evidence, the cases were written off as unfortunate accidents. No bodies, no leads, no suspects."

Reyes let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "So they just vanished into thin air, and the world moved on?"

Richard’s expression darkened. "That’s exactly what they wanted us to think."

He sighed. "I tried to keep pursuing the case, but my boss at the time told me to stop or risk my job."

"And you stopped?" Reyes asked, frustration evident in her voice.

"I had to," Richard admitted. "I couldn't risk my job—I have a wife and three kids to take care of." Guilt flickered in his eyes.

Reyes scoffed. "And when you became precinct captain, you never thought to reopen the case?"

Richard exhaled heavily. "Look, Reyes, I didn’t like it either. But there are powerful people who control the police force. They made it clear that I wasn’t to touch the case again."

Reyes shook her head, her frustration boiling over. Without another word, she turned and stormed out of his office.

As Reyes exited, she spotted a woman speaking to Lyra. Something was wrong—Lyra’s cheerful demeanor had vanished, replaced by downcast eyes and slumped shoulders.

"Hello. What’s going on here?" Reyes asked, still fuming from her conversation with Richard.

The woman turned with a polite but firm smile. "My name is Miss Olivia Rodriguez. I’m from Child Protective Services. I’m here about Lyra—to place her with a proper family as soon as possible."

"No!" Lyra cried, clinging to Reyes' arm. "I don’t want to go! Please, let me stay with you!"

Reyes looked down at Lyra’s tear-filled eyes, her grip tightening on the child’s small hands.

"Hey," Reyes murmured, crouching slightly to meet Lyra’s gaze. "You’re not going anywhere, okay? Just let me handle this."

Straightening, Reyes turned back to Olivia, her expression hardened. "We’re still investigating her parents’ deaths and searching for her sister. You can’t just take her away in the middle of an open case."

Olivia frowned. "I understand, Detective, but Lyra has no immediate family to care for her. The system is in place to ensure her well-being—"

"And uprooting her while we’re in the middle of figuring out what happened to her family is in her best interest?" Reyes cut in. "Give me time. I’ll make sure she’s safe."

Olivia studied her for a moment before sighing. "Fine. But I’ll be checking in regularly."

With that, she turned and left, leaving a tense silence behind.

Reyes exhaled and turned to Lyra, who was still clinging to her sleeve. "It’s okay. She’s gone," Reyes reassured her, reaching out to wipe away the girl’s stray tears.

Lyra sniffled, glancing at the empty chocolate wrappers on Reyes' desk. "I’m sorry. I should’ve asked before eating your chocolate bars. I was just hungry…"

Reyes chuckled softly. "It’s fine. Honestly, I’m glad to have someone to share them with."

But even as she smiled, the weight of the case pressed heavily on her shoulders. She silently prayed Lyra wouldn’t ask about Nyx—not yet.

Reyes stretched her arms. "Speaking of hunger, how about we go get something to eat?"

Lyra’s face lit up slightly as she nodded eagerly.

Meanwhile, deep within the Order of Ghul’s compound, Nyx—now called Zahir Ghul—stood alongside her new companion, Morvaine Ghul. Their new names had been given, solidifying their rebirth into the secretive organization.

They had just finished their first combat class, where their instructor demonstrated various beginner-level fighting techniques.

Nyx wiped sweat from her brow, her muscles aching from the intense drills. The movements felt foreign yet eerily natural, as if her body knew the rhythm of battle before her mind caught up.

Beside her, Morvaine rolled her shoulders. "That was brutal," she muttered. "But kind of exhilarating, don’t you think?"

Nyx hesitated before nodding slightly. There was something thrilling about the precision of each strike, the controlled aggression behind every move. But beneath it all, an uneasy feeling stirred. This was more than just training—it was conditioning.

Just as they prepared to leave, a voice called out. "Zahir Ghul!"

Nyx didn’t respond at first—she still wasn’t used to the name.

"Zahir Ghul!" the voice called again, more insistent this time.

Only then did Nyx realize she was the one being addressed. She turned slowly, heart pounding, as her training truly began.

"Follow me."

The voice belonged to the blonde woman Nyx had first met—the one who seemed to be her handler.

"See you later," Morvaine Ghul called out with a small wave.

Nyx hesitated before giving a slight nod, then stepped forward to join the blonde woman. They walked in silence for a few moments before the woman spoke.

"I see you've made a friend," she remarked, her tone neutral.

Nyx said nothing, only nodding in response.

The blonde woman glanced at her, then sighed. "Word of advice—don’t get too emotionally attached.”

Nyx wondered what the blonde woman meant by don’t get emotionally attached, but she waved it off. It didn’t matter.

They entered another stark white room, identical to the one she had first woken up in. A large screen on the wall displayed a paused video.

"Sit," the woman instructed.

Nyx obeyed, settling into a chair. The woman picked up a remote and pressed play.

"I want you to watch this."

The video began.

On-screen, a man and a woman knelt on the floor, their hands bound behind them. The dimly lit room made it hard to see their faces, but something about them felt painfully familiar. Then, the footage shifted. A younger version of herself appeared, descending a staircase, tears streaming down her face as she pleaded for answers.

Then—gunfire.

A masked man pulled the trigger without hesitation. The sound of the shots echoed in the silent room. Both figures crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

Nyx’s entire body tensed. Her breath hitched.

"A... Are they my parents?" she whispered, her voice barely audible.

The blonde woman nodded. "They were killed."

A lump formed in Nyx’s throat. The scene burned itself into her mind, an endless loop of horror.

"That’s why you must get stronger," the woman continued, her voice steady. "So you can exact your revenge on their killer."

Nyx's hands curled into fists. "Who?" she demanded, her voice trembling with rage.

"His name is Rex Roscov."

Something inside Nyx shifted. Her grief twisted into something darker, something colder.

She clenched her jaw, her mind already picturing the man’s face—whoever he was. "I’ll kill him," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

The blonde woman smirked. "Good. But first, you must prove you are worthy of that revenge."

A sudden loud click echoed in the room. The walls shifted, revealing several masked figures emerging from the shadows.

Nyx’s heart pounded.

"Survive this," the woman said, stepping back. "Then, we’ll talk about revenge."

The first attacker lunged.