The Battle of Thrones:- war among relations

✦❘༻13- Rebels vs majestic ༺❘✦

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≪•◦ ❈"Speed is the only language that matters tonight."❈ ◦•≫

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The industrial lot buzzed with the thrill of the upcoming race. Neon lights flickered against the worn concrete, casting a vibrant glow on the cars lined up, engines purring in anticipation. The Mandali arrived in style, their cars sleek and polished, reflecting their confidence as they stepped out, ready to dominate the night.

Rudra, always the first to stir the pot, leaned against his car, scanning the area with a smirk. "Well, well, looks like we're the stars of tonight's show," he quipped, his tone dripping with arrogance.

Rudr chuckled, his eyes sharp as they surveyed the other racers milling about. "Let's just make sure we stay the stars, yeah?"

As they moved toward the gathering, a sudden hush fell over the crowd. All eyes turned to a sleek, matte-black car pulling up. The Mandali exchanged puzzled looks, waiting to see who would emerge. The door opened, and Aisha stepped out, her presence immediately commanding attention. Every movement was deliberate, each step calculated. Her black attire seemed to blend into the night, making her appear like a shadow come to life. With an unreadable expression, she drew the gaze of everyone present, casting a wave of intrigue over the crowd. She wasn't just walking-she was dominating the moment without uttering a word.

"Great," Kiara muttered under her breath, the sarcasm heavy in her tone. "What's she doing here?"

Shivanya shot her a sideways glance, just as curious. "Guess we're about to find out. But this doesn't look like a friendly visit."

Before the Mandali could fully process Aisha's arrival, the sound of screeching tires announced the entrance of another group. A second car, dark and imposing, roared into the lot, its presence demanding as much attention as Aisha's. The crowd, already tense, instinctively parted like the sea, sensing that something monumental was brewing.

The car door opened, and Saho emerged, the leader of the Majestic, followed closely by Prime, Ace, and a few others. Known for their ruthless manipulation, mind games, and hidden psychopathic tendencies, the Majestic were infamous at the university. No one crossed them without paying a steep price. The tension in the air was palpable, thick with anticipation and unease.

Aisha's eyes narrowed as she observed their entrance, her thoughts racing. As far as I know about them, the Majestic is the third major group in the university, she mused. They play a crucial role in the group dynamics around here, always stirring up chaos, always positioning themselves to come out on top. Their reputation preceded them-manipulators of the highest order, thriving on psychological warfare and control. They've carved out a space for themselves by making every interaction a mind game, Aisha thought, her gaze sharpening. And, like clockwork, they always ensure they win.

Their name, Majestic, was a bitter irony. There's nothing noble or regal about them. They're just experts in twisting situations to their favor, using people like pawns in a game they never intend to lose. Their habit of perfection wasn't earned; it was crafted through deceit and manipulation, all while they hid their psychopathic tendencies beneath a veil of charm.

As Saho stepped forward, his cold eyes scanning the crowd, Aisha felt the tension between the groups thicken. Her mind was already calculating the odds. They think they're untouchable, she mused, her gaze unwavering, but no one is invincible.

The Mandali, realizing the situation had just become infinitely more complicated, let out a collective groan. This wasn't just an ordinary showdown-it was about to become an all-out power struggle between groups that had no love lost for each other.