The Return of the King
Nick stepped forward, eyes burning with a deadly fire.
He exhaled, glancing at Vaibhav, then at the hundreds of enemies before them.
He smirked. "What do you think, Wick? There's about three hundred of them… And just the two of us."
A slow clap echoed through the battlefield.
And then came the voice.
A voice that made The Demolition tremble.
A voice that sent fear straight into their hearts.
"What do you all think… WHO AM I?"
Wick stepped forward.
His presence alone shifted the battlefield.
The tension became suffocating. The ground itself felt like it had caved beneath his words.
And then—he screamed.
"BRING ME THREE THOUSAND!"
The Demolition fighters froze.
Their hands trembled.
Their confidence shattered.
For the first time in the entire fight…
They knew fear.
And then, stepping from the shadows, came a final uninvited guest.
Sam.
And with him—a bound and gagged Varsha.
The Rescue and the Return of the King
A Few Hours Ago…
Wick exhaled sharply, finally easing his tense shoulders as he stepped out of his aunt's house. She was safe. That was all that mattered.
But there was no time to rest.
He pulled out his phone and dialed Nick's number.
No answer.
A frown creased Wick's forehead. Nick never ignored his calls—especially in times like this.
Something was wrong.
Shoving his phone into his pocket, Wick got into his car and slammed the accelerator.
The engine roared as the tires screeched against the asphalt. He drove like a madman, weaving through traffic, his mind racing faster than his car.
And then—he saw it.
A black SUV speeding down the opposite lane.
And inside…
Varsha.
Her wrists were bound, her mouth gagged. Her eyes—wild with fear—met Wick's for the briefest of seconds.
That was all it took.
Wick's grip tightened around the steering wheel. His heart pounded, his instincts taking over.
He turned the car sharply and gave chase.
---
The High-Speed Rescue
The kidnappers noticed him immediately.
Their driver cursed and slammed on the gas, trying to shake him.
Wick didn't let up.
He maneuvered through traffic, his car gaining speed, closing the gap between them.
Then—a sudden turn.
The SUV swerved violently down an empty street, trying to lose him.
Wick followed without hesitation.
The chase felt endless—until Wick saw his opening.
A sharp corner. A blind spot. A single moment of weakness.
The kidnappers made a mistake.
And Wick capitalized on it.
He slammed into their car.
The SUV spun out of control, tires screeching as it crashed into a street pole.
The doors flew open—men scrambling out in panic.
But Wick was already there.
Like a storm, he descended upon them.
One punch. A man crumpled.
One kick. Another hit the ground, groaning.
The third man pulled out a knife—Wick barely spared him a glance.
He snapped the thug's wrist like a twig.
The knife clattered to the ground. Wick didn't waste a second.
He wrenched open the car door, his intense gaze locking onto Varsha.
Her eyes filled with relief as he swiftly untied her restraints.
"You okay?" His voice was low, controlled—but underneath, his rage simmered.
Varsha nodded shakily.
Wick didn't say another word.
He just pulled her out and walked away, leaving the unconscious kidnappers behind.
---
The Meeting with Nick
Nick paced restlessly, his jaw clenched. His heart was heavy with guilt.
The Shield had lost.
He had failed them.
But then—he heard footsteps.
Nick turned sharply, eyes widening as he saw Wick approaching.
And beside him—Varsha.
Nick froze.
His relief was overwhelming, his emotions caught between gratitude and shame.
He rushed forward, his voice thick. "You saved her…"
Wick simply shrugged. "She was in my way."
Nick let out a shaky breath before his expression turned somber. "Wick… I let The Shield lose."
Wick stared at him for a moment. Then, he smirked.
"How can The Shield lose… if I'm here?"
Nick's eyes widened, his heart pounding with renewed determination.
Wick cracked his knuckles and stepped forward.
"Let's go."
Two warriors. One battlefield.
And this time… they wouldn't lose.
To be continued...