Chapter Nine: Wanted by the World
Morning came quietly.
Too quietly.
John Knight stood near the window, watching the city wake beneath a pale sky. The ashes from the ritual fire had been sealed and placed away. The house was locked down. No one spoke—but everyone was awake.
Then every television turned on.
All at once.
A sharp red banner flooded the screens.
BREAKING NEWS
The anchor's voice was calm, practiced, empty of emotion.
"Authorities have identified a dangerous extremist group responsible for last night's violent unrest at a religious gathering."
Images followed.
The courtyard.
Broken bodies.
Blurred footage sharpened frame by frame.
John.
Jack.
Sam.
Will.
Eva.
Still images pulled directly from Scar's feed.
"The group, calling themselves The Knights, is being investigated for acts of domestic terrorism, public assault, and anti-state violence."
Jack's fists clenched.
"They're calling us terrorists."
Sam stepped closer to the screen, eyes tracking every cut, every missing second.
"This was prepared," he said quietly.
"They didn't react. They released."
Another banner flashed.
GLOBAL ALERT
Numbers appeared beneath their faces.
BOUNTY: DEAD OR ALIVE
Before anyone spoke, a second ticker appeared beneath the official one—unmarked, unofficial.
Encrypted symbols.
A single number.
UNDERWORLD BOUNTY: 50,000,000
Jack's expression hardened.
"Fifty million."
Eva's jaw tightened.
"That's not a hunt."
Sam nodded grimly.
"That's everyone."
The channels shifted.
Scar appeared live.
Perfectly dressed.
Relaxed.
Smiling.
"Citizens," Scar said smoothly,
"last night, a radical family attacked civilians during a sacred ritual."
The footage replayed—edited, stripped of context.
"No mercy was shown," Scar continued.
"And we will show none."
He leaned forward slightly.
"A bounty has been issued. International cooperation has been requested."
His eyes seemed to look straight through the screen.
"If you encounter them," Scar said,
"do not engage."
A pause.
"Report them."
The broadcast ended.
Silence filled the room.
The girl stepped closer to John.
"They've turned you into prey—from every side."
John looked away from the dark screen.
"No," he said quietly.
"They've announced themselves."
Jack cracked his neck.
"So what now?"
John turned to them.
For the first time since the ritual, there was no stillness in his eyes.
Only clarity.
"We move," he said.
"Now."
Before anyone could respond—
A distant sound cut through the air.
One siren.
Then another.
Blue and red lights flickered across the walls.
Sam moved to the window and looked down.
"Police," he said calmly.
"All sides."
The sirens grew louder.
Closer.
Eva exhaled slowly.
"They didn't wait."
John picked up his coat.
"They never do."
Outside, engines idled.
Doors slammed.
Loudspeakers crackled to life.
The house was surrounded.
And somewhere far away, Scar smiled—knowing the chase had already begun.