The League's underground base buzzed with tension — the metallic hum of generators echoing through vast concrete halls. The Aces stood at one side of the one-way glass wall with Rafael. On the opposite side, hidden behind shadows, stood Sec E along with Angelo and Tiger.None of them knew who the true leader was — just stories, whispered and wild.
"They say the Alpha once raced against another League on a half-burnt car," murmured Percy, eyes wide. "Half. Burnt."
"And won," Rafael added, almost reverently. "That car exploded seconds after the finish line. Alpha walked out of the fire like it was nothing."
No one laughed. Even Angelo crossed his arms, his voice lower than usual.
"I saw the footage once. That person didn't blink when flames hit their coat. Just walked off, saying— 'Fear is a luxury I can't afford.'"
"we dont even know what is the gender of the person behind the mask some says it is a men by the way the person walks , during that race but everyone can see only hir back"
"he walked into the League like that," someone else added. "Face wrapped, only eyes showing. Gloves on. Like a shadow. Eyes… lethal. Like he looked death in the face and waved."
"he said he wasn't afraid to die, there is no one even to care if he did " a third voice breathed. "But also said nobody would ever dare call him weak. Then he fought. And nobody in the inner group could touch him."
The hallway hummed. The elevator dinged. The stories stuck in air like cobwebs.
We were hidden behind a one-way glass — me, Keifer, Adam, Sam, Michael, then the noisy pack: Cin, Rory, Percy, Felix. Section E squeezed close, pressing faces to the glass. We could hear laughter and applause from the auditorium beyond, but the voices of the League elders were small and serious.
blaster muttered, "If this person is half as scary as the gossip, I'm cancelling my gym membership."
Keifer didn't joke. He just watched the stage. His jaw looked like it had carved statues once.
They called the masked leader in.
Silence swallowed the room.
She — they said "he" in a lot of the old stories — stepped out.
The moment he — or rather, they — arrived, the League members bent slightly forward in respect.Whispers fluttered. "Alpha's here." "The wolf of the League."A symbol glowed faintly behind the throne — a wolf's silhouette crowned with two burning eyes. The symbol of dominance… of fear.
He stared down at that covered frame like the world owed him an answer. now was wrapped in full black tactical armor — face half-covered by a sleek mask, only a pair of sharp, lethal eyes visible. Gloves on, boots heavy, every step silent but commanding.
Every word hung heavy.Then the inner member — a tall man with more pride than sense — stood up.
A member from the Inner Circle stepped forward, sneering.
"You don't belong here," he said, loud enough for cameras and the inner circle to hear. "You're reckless. This is not a playground. This is the League. We need steel, not a stunt driver."
The masked leader didn't flinch. Her voice was measured.
"I belong because I chose to rebuild what was broken. I belong because I risked everything when you were counting coins."
He scoffed. "You risked nothing. You're a child playing at danger. Where are your proofs? What have you built for us besides smoke and stories?"
"Alpha's losing their touch. You don't even deserve that title anymore."
The hall went silent.Even through the glass, the Aces tensed.
The masked leader tilted their head slightly. The silence thickened — and then, in a tone calm enough to slice through bone:
"You think worth is given? I earned this position when I buried three rival leaders in one night. When I raced through a burning city. When I bled for this League while others ran."
Words. Then motion. The member lunged with the kind of fury that comes from someone who's always been told 'no' and decided to make 'yes' by force. The fight was fast — not clumsy, clinical. The member swung like a man with everything to prove. The masked leader moved like someone who had stolen time from every hard lesson and spent it learning to survive.
"You don't question the Alpha," Mason said from the side, voice steady but wary.
Alex, arms crossed beside him, muttered under his breath, "Why do people keep picking fights with our boss... suicidal much?"
The leader turned away, mask glinting under the dim lights, and took the throne.Mason and Alex flanked both sides like loyal wolves.
From behind the one-way glass, the others stared, breath caught.
Aries leaned forward. "Okay... that was insane."
She disarmed him before the second breath. She used his momentum; she let the floor eat him; She didn't need to yell. She didn't need to scream. She simply turned to the room and said, quiet and clean:
"You are not worthy if you do not understand sacrifice. I gave myself to the League and to the people who needed it. I do not allow the position to be filled by those who have no idea what it costs."
"Keifer," Aries hissed beside me — he had noticed, of course. He's sharper than he pretends. "If you dare to cheat on my sister i swear" he mouthed, half-joke, half-threat, across my face. I wanted to tell him to stop calling her 'his' in public. I wanted to say she was hers, not his. But my jaw clenched because the world narrowed to those two slits of eyes.
There was a rustle like a cold wind. People shifted, swallowed. I watched the leader's eyes — the only visible thing — and something jerked in my chest like recognition that wanted to sprint out. They were eyes I knew. I'd seen that look at three in the morning when Jay checked if I was breathing after a nightmare. They were the same slope, the same small, crooked light when she laughed.
I kept watching. The masked leader said something about proof, about need, about loyalty. The inner member — defeated but alive — slunk off. The room started clapping, nervous and reverent.
Then she sat on the throne.
Only then did she remove the mask — not fully, but slow, deliberate — and the light hit the face. For a second the world failed like a badly tuned speaker. Women's fans gasped and men forgot how to breathe. I twant to punch them on their face right now..
I knew the face before my head connected the name. It wasn't how I thought it would be — I thought I'd be more prepared, more angry, more stupid. I wasn't. I was some where proud and scared .. for her and ofc shocked
The crowd buzzed, people whispering: "She's only eighteen?" "She's the one?" "Jasper Jean Fernandes Mariano?" "The J in S&J?"
The leader's hair had been tied. The jaw set the same as nights I'd seen over exams and stupid fights. The eyes — my God — the eyes were Jay's. Not a trick. Not a reflection. Jay.
Sweat ran between my shoulder blade and the jacket like little dry alarms.
The world did not know. Not yet. Some whispered "female?" as if that made the leader less. That was the old joke. Not for me. This was Jay — our mutya , the girl i love who loves to meddle everywhere , my future mrs.watson , "
josh :"no wonders why they all thought she was a boy only jay can have that aura "
percy:" i told you she is trans gender"
keifer:" shut up percy "
cin "OMMGGGGG jay our jay"
edrix:" she never let us know about it "
felix:"it means our mutya is leader of league we are going to work under "
After the dust settled, the leader climbed the small steps and sat on the throne — the League throne — with two silhouettes at her sides: Mason and Alex. with face now revealed Mason's smile was a father's, Alex's face closed like a ledger.
Jay sat like she belonged there. Like this was always the seat she'd been building toward between exams and midnight snacks and knife-sharp training.
She stood, folded the file on her lap like a paper sword, and reached a hand into a drawer. Her fingers brushed the February list — 2905. She read. Her breath hitched. The name made her hand tremble.
"Mark Keifer Watson."