The citys underbelly was a place where only the strong survived. The streets were dark, drenched in rain and

lit only by flickering street lamps. Shadows stretched long and twisted like the dangers lurking in every corner. 

Here, amidst the concrete maze and rusted steel, a young boy named Jeydon first took his steps.

From the beginning, Jeydon was different. His eyes burned with a fierce fire, one that could not be quenched by the hardships around him. 

He grew up fast, learning early that kindness was a luxury and loyalty was everything. 

The street was his home, the alleyways his playground, and the fights his schooling.

His back bore a mark  a massive tattoo of a dragon curling across his skin. It was no ordinary design. 

The dragons scales shimmered with deep reds and blacks, its claws sharp and ready to strike. 

To anyone who saw it, it was a symbol not just of strength, but of destiny. This dragon marked Jeydon as someone who was meant for more than just survival. He was meant to lead.

From a young age, Jeydon gathered a crew  kids like him who knew the taste of struggle and the need for family beyond blood.

 They were more than a gang they were a brotherhood bound by fire and steel, by the fierce spirit of the dragon that branded them.

But being a leader wasnt easy. Every day was a battle, every night a challenge. Rival gangs roamed the streets,

looking to crush anyone who dared to rise. The air was thick with tension  the clash of fists and the roar of curses filled every alley.

One night, after a brutal fight where Jeydon and his crew defended their turf against a larger gang, something changed.

 Bruised and bloodied, standing tall amid the rubble of broken bottles and discarded weapons, Jeydon felt a new presence beside him.

It was RB  calm, composed, and deadly. RB wasnt just a fighter he was a black belt martial artist, disciplined

and precise. Where Jeydon fought with raw power and passion, RB moved with grace and strategy. 

Their styles complemented each other like fire and steel.

Together, they dreamed of more than just survival. They dreamed of power, respect, and a family that would never break. And thus, Badburn was born.

The name itself meant burning with passion and strength  a fire that would consume all obstacles. It was a promise to each other that no matter how hard the fight, they would stand together, fight together, and rise together.

Their tattoo became their mark of pride. The dragon wasnt just ink on skin; it was their soul. It represented the flames of their passion and the steel of their resolve.

Jeydons journey had only begun. From the gutters of the city to the heights of legend, his story would be written in fire and blood.