Mateo and Nai rushed into the house, their hearts pounding, adrenaline surging through their veins like the beat of a war drum. But what they found beyond the threshold was a nightmare they could never forget.

There, in the corridor, lay Nai’s mother — pale, lifeless, her eyes frozen on the ceiling as if she had desperately pleaded for help with her last breath. The cruel silence of the house was broken only by the muffled sound of Mateo’s slow footsteps as he swallowed hard before the sight.

In the living room, Nai’s father sprawled across the floor, his body rigid, blood spilled in a trail of betrayal and abandonment. The maids who once filled the house with warmth and laughter were now silent shadows, victims of the same cruel fate. Yet beside Nai’s father’s body, one maid still breathed, her wide eyes filled with terror, though her vacant stare spoke louder than words.

And beside her, looming like a consuming shadow, stood the leader of the gang.

For a fleeting instant, before the slam of the door echoed too loudly for them to hide, Mateo and Nai overheard part of a damning conversation:
— “I didn’t know the project was about this… these fools knew too much, and the project’s almost rea—”

The words cut off when Mateo and Nai burst into the room.

At that instant, it all made sense. The realization struck like thunder. The maid was no mere victim—she was a traitor. She had delivered precious information to the gang about the secret project Nai’s family and the king were working on. Information that now had been paid for in blood.

Fueled by a storm of grief, fury, and anguish, Mateo and Nai lunged toward the intruders. But before a clash could erupt, both the gang leader and the maid vanished into the shadows, escaping their wrath.

The leader tried to utter something—a warning, perhaps a threat—but the words were drowned by the torrent of rage inside Mateo. He could barely hear, barely think.

Nai broke completely. She sank to her knees, her sobs raw and endless, tears flowing as if her soul itself was being ripped apart. Mateo dropped down beside her, desperate to offer strength, but his chest ached with his own devastation. The people they loved—gone, the home they knew—betrayed. A hollow emptiness threatened to consume him.

At last, Mateo too wept. For the first time in years, he let the tears flow freely, melting away the walls he had held all his life. Together, he and Nai mourned, their pain entwined in silence—and in their eyes, unspoken yet fierce, bloomed a vow.

They swore vengeance.
Nothing, no one, would stop them from delivering justice. From revealing the truth. From erasing the shadow of betrayal—even if it meant plunging into the deepest darkness.

Their war had only just begun.