Hurry.
Footsteps scraped across cracked concrete, voices overlapping, breath sharp with urgency.
"Move—do it faster. This is an order from above."
Hands adjusted wires, checked feeds, straightened chairs.
Tonight was important. Tonight could not fail.
"This is the last meeting before the mission," a man muttered, glancing at his watch.
"No mistakes. Not today. He'll be here."
A few nervous laughs followed. Thin.Forced.
Someone whispered, "Higher-ups confirmed it. His executive received the mail this morning."
"He never lies."
The broken auditorium stood on the city's edge—dead from the outside, reborn within.
Fresh paint hid cracks. Dim lights masked decay.
Every seat was filled.
Black outfits. Bandages covering their face completely to hide their identities.
Beyond these walls, hundreds more people watched through encrypted streams.
Screens flickered softly.
All waiting for one for one man.
Tick.
Tick.
From the shadows behind the stage, a figure emerged.
Slow. Unhurried.
Each step echoed like a countdown.
Conversations died mid-breath.
Eyes followed him without blinking.
He walked toward the stage, pale bandages wrapped tighter than the rest.
A torn grey t-shirt clung to him, worn and careless.Pants stained with dust.
He stopped at the microphone.
Silence swallowed the room.
He inhaled.
"It's been a long time since our last meeting."
His voice was calm. Too calm.
"I can feel it… new souls among us."
His head tilted slightly, eyes scanning through layers of cloth and darkness.
"You already know why we're here."
A pause.
"But tonight, I want to talk about something people call God."
A few bodies stiffened.
"They say he's the unseen hope. The almighty.
The one who writes fate."
A faint chuckle escaped him. Dry.
"He rewards the good… punishes the bad."
He laughed.
"Fucking losers."
Let me tell you the truth,
"When I was nine, I saw a boy beaten to death by some gansters."
His fingers curled slowly around the mic.
"He was protecting his sister from their boss who's misbehaving with her. That was his crime."
No one breathed.
"They killed him in the street.
His sister begged—please, help us.
People watched but no one came.
Then the gang dragged her away by her hair.
His gaze lifted slightly.
I asked myself "what was their fault"?
Did they deserve this?
"Days later, her body was found in a sewer.
Cut. Burned. Drugged."
A pause.
"I guess that was her fate."
"When I was eleven, a poor boy caught rich kids blackmailing a female teacher."
A soft hum from the lights filled the silence.
"They framed him. Destroyed her life. Blamed him."
His jaw tightened.
"He went to jail for crimes he didn't commit.
No one believed a kid who couldn't even feed himself."
A beat.
"Days later, he killed himself in his cell."
"I guess that was his fate."
"When I was fourteen—"
His voice lowered.
"A beggar woman. Two children. No food."
"A car ran her over.The driver didn't even bother to stop."
He exhaled slowly.
Both children crying, trying to wake up their mother but who's going to tell them?
"People walked past but no one helped. Someone said—God bless their destiny."
His head tilted down.
"The children started crying again but this time not for their mother.
For food."
A long silence.
"I looked at the sky and understood something."
His voice hardened.
"If God exists… he's either useless or cruel."
"If he can't be everywhere, why call him almighty?"
"If he writes fate, why do monsters live well while the innocent rot?"
He leaned forward.
"I'm not serving that God."
A sharp inhale rippled through the crowd.
"And if I ever find him—"
"I'll kill him ,i will kill that fucking god."
The words struck like a blade.
"That's why I told you these stories."
His eyes moved slowly across the audience.
"Every one of you here… prey of fate."
Orphans. Runaways. Broken things.
People destiny abandoned.
"I don't want you believing in something that ruined your lives."
His voice rose—not loud, but absolute.
"I want you to believe in yourself."
A chill ran through the room.
"Believe in the monster that living inside you."
"Sell your soul to it."
"And it will give you everything—food, power, freedom."
He straightened.
"We will build a world with no gods."
"No fate."
"Only those who dared to take it."
Silence.
Then—
"And for your honor," he said softly, fingers lifting to his bandages,
"I am that monster."
The cloth fell.
Gasps exploded across the hall.
"He removed it—"
"You can see him—"
"That's his face—"
The man smiled.
Not warm.
Not kind.
A smile that promised ruin.
Their leader.
"LIAR."