Copyright © 2025 by Ryan Melrose
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means—electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise—without the prior written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction.
All names, characters, places, organizations, and events are either products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, real-world locations, corporations, or institutions is entirely coincidental. If you genuinely believe any character in this book is secretly based on you, you might be reading a bit too deep—or just hunting for a payout. Either way, this story isn’t about you. Maybe talk to someone about that.
This is the first publication, written and illustrated by Ryan Melrose, and published in Australia.
The Endless Balance of an Ancient Sorrow Gavern Codex (GC) Volume 1
CHAPTER 4
The Night Before: Silus’s unrelenting rage
The graveyard was eerily still, save for the wind curling through the cracked tombstones, rustling the overgrown grass in slow, somber waves.
Silus stood before two gravestones, his fists clenched so tightly his nails dug into his palms.
His parents.
Gone.
Not because of a tragic accident.
Not because of something unavoidable.
No—because the McGullen Corporation let them die.
The scaffolding had fallen like a steel guillotine, collapsing under its own weight, crushing everything beneath it.
A preventable disaster.
A failure that could have been avoided if the company had upheld safety protocols instead of cutting corners for profits.
And then—the company’s empty promises came.
"We will support the families affected by this tragedy."
"Rest assured, the McGullen Corporation is committed to helping the victims."
"We will not abandon those suffering from this unfortunate accident."
Lies.
Deceptions wrapped in bureaucratic nonsense, buried under paperwork, loopholes, denials.
The compensation?
Never arrived.
The victims?
Forgotten.
Silus and countless others had been left with nothing—while those responsible continued their lives untouched, unscathed, sitting in luxury while their negligence robbed families of everything.
And now—Silus had the power to change that.
To erase the ones who had played a role in his parents’ death.
To make every single one of them pay.
Behind him, The Entity watched, amusement flickering as if he backed away to watch the ensuing chaos he has just unleashed.
It had given Silus everything he needed.
Strength. Awareness.
Corruption soaked into his soul like ink—sharp, staining, irreversible until finally the evil power of Binding word was his.
He didn’t need a list.
Didn’t need a map.
His new power whispered the names, guiding him like a predator on instinct.
Evil knows everything.
Where they lived. Where they worked. Where they would be tonight.
And the closest one?
Lilly Aretas—the highest financial contributor to the McGullen Corporation.
The very company that had promised aid—and never delivered.
She was the first.
And she would not be the last.
Lilly Aretas sat at her worn dining table, picking at her simple microwave meal with absent thought unaware of the impending danger closing in on her.
Her home was modest, clean, unremarkable—not the kind of place people imagined for a wealthy investor.
And yet, this was her life.
Comfortable. Private.
Just as she took her first bite—
BANG!
The door slammed open, crashing against the wall.
Lilly jerked upright, heart hammering as a figure stormed inside, his presence electric with rage, his movements sharp, erratic—almost too fluid for human motion.
Silus grinned wildly, his eyes burning with unholy delight.
"Hello, blood-sucking leech! Are you home?!"
His voice rang through the room, twisted with something far worse than mere anger—something deeper, colder.
His eyes landed on her.
Silus tilted his head, eyebrows raising in mock disbelief.
"This is her?"
He laughed, stepping forward, scanning the apartment.
"You don’t look rich. Is that a microwave meal? Are you serious?"
His face twisted into something ugly, his grin widening in pure disgust.
"My parents died for this—this shit hole?"
He gestured wildly.
"I expected a Ferrari in the driveway! A mansion! But this?"
His eyes narrowed.
"Are you sure you're Lilly Aretas? The highest contributor to the McGullen Corporation?"
He scoffed.
"Shouldn’t you be living it large like every other rich idiot in this city?"
Lilly exhaled slowly, keeping her voice steady.
"I don’t live large."
Silus tensed, his grin faltering for a second before returning, darker than before.
Lilly kept her gaze firm.
"Real wealth isn’t about extravagance for me. It’s about security, investment, using money wisely—not throwing it at vanity."
Silus laughed sharply, eyes flicking around the room.
"Security? Investment? That’s cute. My parents sure had a lot of security when your company let them die."
Lilly’s expression softened slightly.
"I don’t know who you are. But whatever happened to your parents... I am deeply sorry. Please I’m just an investor I have no say in how the business I invest in operates."
Silus twitched violently, his fists clenching at his sides.
"Sorry? Sorry?! You don’t even know my name! You don’t even recognize me, do you?!"
His voice cracked with fury, something broken and wild behind his words.
Lilly held her ground.
"I don’t think I do. But I see that you’re hurting."
Silus slammed his hand against the wall, the impact splitting the wood, shaking the room.
"Don’t."
His voice lowered, eyes locked onto hers like a predator ready to strike.
"Don’t you dare sit there and pretend you would have done anything differently."
Lilly didn’t flinch.
She could see it now—the war inside him.
The rage.
The grief.
The monstrous thing that had twisted him into something unrecognizable.
Nothing she said would matter.
No reasoning.
No logic.
No plea.
Silus was already too far gone.
She exhaled slowly, looking at him with quiet understanding.
"I don't think I can stop you. Understand I’m truly sorry"
Silus smiled, tilting his head.
"No. You can't."
Silus stood at the doorway, eyes cold, dispassionate, watching the woman before him with all the detachment of a judge delivering a sentence.
He had expected rage from her.
Begging.
Fear.
But Lilly sat there, her gaze steady, her expression strangely calm, as if she knew there was nothing she could say that would change what was about to happen.
And that only annoyed him.
His lips curled into a sneer, disgust evident in every word as he tilted his head slightly.
"Hmph. You’re too pathetic for anything extraordinary."
He stepped forward, his tone sharp.
"Just jump out your high-rise apartment and be done with it."
A pause.
A slow inhale, followed by a cruel smirk.
"They’ll believe your motivation. Living in a shit hole like this? Who wouldn’t?"
And with that—he turned, walking away, barely sparing her another glance.
Behind him, Lilly nodded quietly, kindly—then obeyed.
At least, in the end, it was quick.
Silus never looked back.
Not once.
He moved through the city, unflinching, his senses alive with his next target.
One by one, they would fall.
One by one, his justice would be delivered.
The names whispered in his mind.
The locations etched into his awareness as if he had always known. The McGullen Corporation had robbed him of everything.
And now?
Silus was going to erase them all.
2
Edward Tilly—board member, kingpin of spreadsheets overweight balding in a suit, and a man who'd never once heard the word “accountability” used in his direction—slid into the back seat of his dark grey Audi A8 with the grace of someone who believed the world owed him smooth leather and silent chauffeurs.
His driver, simply and unceremoniously known as Bradley—because Edward never bothered to learn his last name—gave a polite nod and merged into traffic.
Edward barely noticed. He was too busy barking into his mobile phone. That’s mobile—not cell. That was for Americans. This was Australia. Like tomato sauce, not ketchup. Onion relish, not onion sauce. The details mattered.
“Listen to me, lady,” Edward snapped, tugging at the knot of his designer tie. “I don’t care what their claim is—you deny it. Every cent. You pay out to one family with some terminal case who wants an experimental surgery, then suddenly every bleeding-heart parasite in the country lines up for their piece. Not happening.”
A woman’s voice echoed from the phone—measured but cracking under pressure. “Sir, we... we can’t deny them on that basis. That’s someone’s life. You’re playing God.”
Edward smirked, rolling down the window just enough to light a cigar. He took a long drag before speaking.
“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t we take good care of you? Hmm? That job of yours—the salary, the health plan, the house you’re halfway through paying off... all of that exists because we look after ourselves first. McGullen Insurance didn’t build an empire by cutting checks every time a sob story wandered into our inbox. We’re the best in the country because our people—like you—make the right decisions.”
A pause. Silence on the line.
Edward’s grin widened.
“Now,” he said, blowing out a ring of smoke, “are you that kind of employee... or do I need to find someone who is?”
“… I understand, sir. It’ll be done.”
“That’s right,” he said smoothly. “See? You can make the right choice when you try. Keep it up and you’ll go far. House, car, kid’s education—all safe. Just stay obedient.”
He ended the call with a smug tap and turned to the front.
“Tell you what, Bradley…” He took another puff, letting the smoke swirl lazily inside the vehicle. “The work of an insurance executive is never done. Always leaks to plug, always fires to smother—always another excuse to keep the money flowing in our direction.”
Bradley said nothing. Just kept driving.
Edward glanced at the rear-view mirror, annoyed. “Oh? What’s this now? Silent treatment?” He leaned forward. “Don’t like how I do business, Bradley? Hm?”
Still no answer. Edward’s grin twisted.
“That’s why people like me have yachts and vineyards while dogs like you chauffeur us around. You want to complain? I can snap my fingers and that nice little Christmas bonus of yours disappears—poof. Just like that.”
Bradley didn’t flinch.
Edward leaned back, chuckling to himself.
“Keep driving, obedient little dog.”
3
Silus prowled the alleyways of Fraid City like a phantom, shadows clinging to his silhouette as he hunted the next name that echoed in his mind.
He found Nathaniel Hoddinger—head of McGullen’s the Public face of the company—taking out the trash. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
The man didn’t even flinch at the sight of Silus. He recognized the kid instantly.
“Aw, it’s you again. Still crying over mommy and daddy?” Hoddinger scoffed, flicking his cigarette into the alley without a second thought. “You should’ve taken the ten grand we offered. Would’ve been more than your parents ever left you.”
Silus tilted his head.
“A dollar value... for what you took?” His voice barely held back the venom. “You think ten thousand dollars erases their blood from your company’s hands?”
Hoddinger rolled his eyes.
“Kid, I don’t pour the concrete. I just run the empire.”
Silus smirked.
“In otherwords you’re the figure head blindly saying what the real chairman had you say. That’s right I know Hugo Transyn is the real rich prick I’ve been looking for. The power told me so”
He turned his head slightly, eyes catching something in the distance. The low whine of a garbage truck rumbled down the streets end, headlights cutting through the dark like fate’s flashlight.
"Lilly got a quick exit. Some of the others too,” Silus said, stepping closer. “But you... no, I’ve got something better for you. Fitting, even."
He raised a hand toward the Hoddingers neighbours dumpster.
“The negligence of the McGullen Corporation cost lives. Let's see what it feels like to be one of your own statistics.”
The grin widened.
“Tell you what, Hoddinger... hop in the Dumpster. And wait for the truck to do what it does best. Squash the waste.”
The words weren’t shouted—they were delivered with calm certainty.
That was all it took.
Nathaniel’s expression slackened. His shoulders dropped. The power took hold like iron chains beneath his skin. Without a word, he turned and climbed into the steel dumpster, his limbs obeying against his will. He lay flat on his back.
Frozen.
Silent.
Unable to scream even as the hydraulics hissed and the mechanical arm clamped shut.
There was a dull crunch, a lurch, and then—
A splatter across metal, barely heard over the grinding machinery.
The garbage truck trundled away, its drivers oblivious, chatting casually about weekend plans.
Silus watched it disappear, unfazed. Unfeeling.
Another name crossed off the list.
And the night carried him forward, still hungry for retribution.
Edward Tilly had drained the last of his cigar and moved on to champagne. He slouched deeper into the leather seats of the black Audi A8, obnoxious and flushed, the fizz fueling his lack of self-awareness.
“Hey, Bradley!” he slurred, waving the crystal flute in the air. “You know how lucky you are, don’t you? Plenty of blokes would kill for this gig—to get a fraction of the perks I throw at you. Hell, I know people who’d do your job for less. So why don’t I hire them, huh? HUH?”
No response. Not from the front seat. Not even a glance.
Edward huffed. “Hmm. Still with the silent act, Bradley?” He grinned wickedly and sloshed the remains of the champagne toward the driver’s head. “Here. Loosen up! Have a drink!”
The car jerked violently as Bradley slammed the brakes, tires shrieking in a narrow alley.
He turned to face Edward, eyes sharp and done with it.
“You know what, sir? Screw this I’m out of here.”
“I don’t work for you. I drive for Elite Chauffeurs. So go ahead—have me fired. Every ride’s recorded, by the way. Your threats. That phone call to your employee. All of it. Maybe I hand it to the media. Maybe I convince the victims in a class-action lawsuit that’s and ruin you.”
Bradley opened the driver door and stepped out.
“I’ll walk. At least I’ll sleep tonight.”
Edward stared after him, seething.
“Yeah?! You’re out of a job, you hear me?! You think you can threaten me, Bradley? Huh? I ruin lives for fun! Just like yours!”
But the only sound that answered was the wind brushing through the alley.
Edward grunted and dragged himself into the driver’s seat, fumbling with the ignition. The engine growled awake. He snapped on the headlights.
Thin. Black shirt. Black hair. About fifthteen. Staring at him. Not moving.
“Oi. Kid. Get out of the way,” Edward muttered, slapping the gearstick. He revved the engine once, twice. The kid didn’t flinch.
“Alright. Your choice. I run you down. Tell the authorities you leapt out like a lunatic. My lawyers’ll steamroll it. SPLAT SPLAT. End of story.”
The words weren’t heard—but Edward’s hands obeyed anyway.
Edward's foot slammed the brake.
"Now drive around me dangerously and flip the car. Flip it onto it back. Crash it real good. Then stay there."
Against his will, Edward’s arms twisted the wheel. The car screeched into a wild burn, rear end snapping sideways, tires kicking sparks. It struck a sidewalk barrier just enough, it launched sideways—rolled once, then twice—before landing upside down, back-end crumpling into a brick wall.
Steam hissed from under the hood. A thin trail of fuel crept along the ground.
Edward blinked, dazed, upside down, stuck—right where Silus had told him to be.
Outside, Silus struck a match. His voice was barely a whisper.
“After you... It’s just Hugo Transyn left.”
The fire chased the trail like a curse, roaring toward the wreckage. Inside, Edward screamed silently—his body still, locked in place—until the explosion swallowed him whole.
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