Ya Allah, forgive me for the path I walk,
even when I know where it leads.
If destiny is written,
give me the strength to finish the sentence. I used to believe every step I took was my choice.
Every mission.
Every trigger pull.
Every name crossed off the list. But after enough bodies,
after enough cities,
you start to see patterns.
And patterns don’t belong to chance. BlackVault didn’t find me by accident.
They found me because I was already becoming what they needed.
I was shaped by hunger.
Sharpened by loss.
Hardened by betrayal. Some men are born to build.
Some are born to lead.
And some…
are born to end things. I fought that truth for a long time.
Told myself I could walk away.
Start fresh.
Disappear into a quieter life. But destiny doesn’t chase you.
It waits.
Patient.
Knowing you’ll come back when you realize
there’s nowhere else you fit. I’ve watched men try to outrun who they are.
They change names.
Change cities.
Change faces.
But the mirror always remembers. Tonight, I accept it.
Not with pride.
Not with joy.
But with clarity. This is the role I was given.
And until Allah decides otherwise,
I will play it to the end.

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