He did not save her-he armed her

The rain poured relentlessly, as if nature itself was trying to deliver a warning. Thunder clapped violently above, lightning slicing through the sky and briefly illuminating the dark, silent city of Hinland. The streets were empty, swallowed by shadows. A girl walked through the downpour, her steps heavy, her body soaked, as though nothing in the universe mattered to her anymore. The darkness was so thick one could barely see the lines on their own palm. From a distance, the sharp roar of an engine cut through the rain. A black car sped forward, and before there was time to react, it crashed into the girl. Inside the hospital lobby, a young man stood silently. He was twenty-six years old, tall and imposing, with dark locks falling over his face. His jawline was sharp, his dark brown eyes cold and piercing, like an eagle watching its prey. There was something unnatural about him, an aura so chilling it felt as though the temperature around him dropped to four degrees Celsius. His name was Kylen Alexander, heir to the NHC Empire, and bearer of another identity known only to him and his grandfather. A burly man rushed toward him, breathless. “Sir… the young lady has woken up.” Lying weakly on the hospital bed was Mara. She looked pale, as though she might fade away at any moment. Yet even in her fragility, her beauty was undeniable so striking it seemed the Creator had taken extra time with her. She was tall, with long black hair spread across the white sheets, soft curls framing her face. Her lips were small and faintly pink. She was twenty-two years old. And her life had just changed forever. Kylen entered the hospital ward and was met by Doctor Fahad, the family physician. As they walked, the doctor explained that the patient’s condition was stable with only a fractured leg and a few minor scratches. He pushed the door open. The ward was brightly lit. Mara lay on the bed, awake yet painfully weak, her eyes dull, as if the light itself weighed on her. “How are you feeling?” Kylen asked. Mara stared at him blankly, offering no response. The silence irritated him. He turned to the doctor. “Is there anything wrong with her vocal cords or her hearing?” Doctor Fahad shook his head. “All her vitals are normal. This is most likely a shock from the accident. She needs rest.” Kylen nodded, displeased but silent. He, his guard, and the doctor exited the ward. As they stepped into the corridor, Kylen’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out and answered without checking the caller ID. “Hmmm,” he muttered. His eyes narrowed as he stared down the long hospital hallway. Without another word, he ended the call. “Rhon,” he called to his bodyguard. “Let’s go.” Rhon was five years older than Kylen. He had been adopted by Kylen’s grandfather, and the two had trained together since childhood, brothers not by blood, but by loyalty. They exited the hospital. Parked in front of them was a sleek Audi R8. Rhon stepped into the driver’s seat, the engine roaring to life as they sped down the lane, leaving the hospital and Mara behind. Mara lay staring blankly at the ceiling, her mind heavy until sleep slowly pulled her under. Her dreams were dark. She found herself in a vast, silent mansion, only dim night lights glowing along the halls. A few bodyguards moved quietly around the compound, keeping watch. A shadow appeared. Dressed in black from head to toe, a masked man climbed effortlessly into the mansion. His movements were swift and silent. One by one, he took down the guards with expert precision, leaving no sound behind. He pushed open the front door and stepped into the elegant sitting room. The house was dark, yet he moved with certainty, as though he knew every corner. He climbed to the second floor, walked straight to the first room on the left, and burst inside. Blue light filled the room. “Mara, what do you want?” a woman’s voice asked sleepily. “It’s late.” No answer came. The woman turned on the light. Her scream shattered the silence. Seated calmly on the sofa was the intruder, dressed in black, a g*n resting in his hand as he gently caressed it. “Who are you?” she cried. Beside her, a man in his late forties her husband sprang up from the bed. He pulled her close, his voice shaking. “Who are you? What do you want?” The intruder did not reply. He did not even look at them. “Guards!” the man shouted. “Where are you? Someone, anyone!” No one came. The woman was crying now, trembling violently. The masked man finally looked up and laughed. A deep, thunderous laugh. The husband tried to rise, but the intruder c****d his g*n and pointed it straight at him. A door creaked open. Mara stepped out of the room opposite her parents’, her hair messy as she rubbed sleep from her eyes. “Mum?” she asked softly. “What’s wrong? Why all the noise” A gunshot exploded. Mara froze. She rushed toward her parents’ room, but her mother screamed, “Run, Mara! Use the back door run!” Tears streamed down Mara’s face as the door burst open. The masked man struggled to escape, her father bleeding heavily clinging desperately to his leg. He looked at Mara and gestured urgently with his eyes for her to leave. As the intruder kicked free, his mask slipped off. Mara saw his face. She did not recognize him but she would never forget it. Thunder clapped. Lightning tore through the sky. Rain began to fall. Mara jolted awake in the hospital bed, her breath ragged, her body shaking. She looked around frantically, her heart pounding as tears rolled down her cheeks. It had been a dream. But the pain felt terrifyingly real.