Chapter 2

  The group barged through the door of the Marcario apartment, carrying Sahiro’s body and laying him gently on the couch. Yankira shut the door behind them.

  “Cadoc, try to find some medical supplies—gauze, alcohol, bandages, anything,” Yankira ordered. “Radford, try making Sahiro as comfortable as possible—" “What the fuck?” Yankira froze. She turned to see Walentrya standing in the doorway. Still in her dinner outfit.

  “Hey—Walentrya,” Yankira said, her voice cracking. “Why…why are you home so early?”

  “I had a short shift,” Walentrya replied, then her eyes fell on her brother’s bloodied and unconscious body on the couch. “WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED TO SAHIRO?” She shoved past Yankira and rushed towards her little brother, cradling his head. For a moment, it looked like she might cry—but instead, she turned to the others, her face filled with disappointment.

  “What. The fuck. Happened,” Walentrya demanded.

  “We don’t know,” Yankira said, “One minute we were waiting for him to grab his lunch, the next he came crashing through the school ceiling.” Walentrya’s jaw tightened.

  “Do you know how he got thrown?” she asked, her voice sharpened. The three exchanged nervous glances.

  “It was Alyosha,” Radford confessed, the words spilling out. “He showed up and just… started attacking Sahiro.”

  Walentrya stood up slowly. They all flinched as if she was about to strike them like disobedient children.

  “Alyosha Dennis?” she asked quietly. “Gennadi’s second in command?”

  “Girl, he didn’t even seem like a second-in-command,” Cadoc said, trying to lighten the mood, but Walentrya shot him a terrifying look.

  “Shut up, Cadoc,” she snapped. She grabbed a towel, soaked it in hot water, and placed it on Sahiro’s forehead.

  “Where is he now?” Walentrya asked.

  “Back at the school, riddled with bullets,” Radford responded. Instead of relief, what Radford expected—Walentrya’s expression twisted into something closer to irritation.

  “Really?” Walentrya said, fury sharp in her voice. “And you guys didn’t make sure he was dead?”

  “Yes Walen, don’t worry,” Yankira reassured her. But Walentrya clearly didn’t share her confidence.

  “Oh, I think I should worry,” Walentrya said. The group could see the fire in her eyes. “I fought him before. The only reason I’m still standing is because I distracted him long enough to escape. And why the fuck didn’t you take him to a hospital?”

  “Hey, it was either risking the boss figuring out and getting our asses mounted on the wall—or getting an earful from you,” Cadoc said.

  “You’re damn right you’re gonna get an earful. Why the hell didn’t you lot protect him—"

  “Um, guys,” Radford interrupted. “Not trying to cut your lecture short, but… something’s happening.”

  The environment around them began to dissolve, fading into the endless black of space. Gravity vanished. The four of them began to float. Then the sofa—including Sahiro—disappeared. A menacing laugh echoed through the void.

  “HE’S HERE!” Walentrya yelled. Alyosha appeared before them. He looked whole. As if the encounter with Radford, Cadoc, and Yankira had never happened. He wasn’t even wearing his jacket anymore, revealing his scar-covered chest and the sash going across it. Walentrya locked eyes with him and noticed a long scar stretching from his eyebrow down to his neck.

  “Well… haven’t you aged nicely, Walentrya,” Alyosha said, slowly stepping toward her.

  “Move one inch closer, and I’ll shove this fucking blade down your goddamn throat,” she snapped, pulling a large dagger from her wrist.

  “Mm, mm, mmm,” Alyosha hummed. “That’s no way to treat a guest. Especially me, Walentrya.”

  He leaned in and licked her left cheek. Walentrya responded instantly, slashing his throat. Blood poured out of his neck. Alyosha staggered back, gargling, and collapsed to the floor. For a moment, there was silence. Then he laughed.

  Maniacally.

  The blood stopped flowing, and the wound sealed itself shut. The group stared in horror.

  “Guess it’s been a while, huh, Walentrya?” Alyosha said, wiping his neck clean. “You remember when you tried to kill me last time? Thought it’d work again, right?” Walentrya’s dagger ripped itself from her hand and flew into Alyosha’s grasp.

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  “Well, guess what, you dumb bitch,” he sneered, casually twirling her blade. “THIS TIME, YOU’RE GOING TO DIE—AND YOU’RE NOT COMING BACK FROM THIS.”

  The others tried to move, but their bodies refused to obey. Alyosha hurled the dagger straight at Walentrya’s forehead.

  The tip of the blade stopped inches away. Frozen midair.

  The group turned around and saw it was Sahiro, drenched in blood, his arm extended—reaching for his sister. White energy blazed in his eyes, streaked with circling red.

  Alyosha froze, confusion flashing across his face. Sahiro stepped forward, seized the dagger, and closed the distance. The six-foot-two giant loomed over the five-foot-eleven Alyosha.

  “Well, if it isn’t Walen’s baby bro—" before Alyosha could finish his sentence, Sahiro appeared in front of him and jammed the dagger right into his forehead—forcing it in through until the blade burst out the other side.

  Blood streamed down Alyosha’s face, pouring into his nose and mouth. He hit the floor hard. For a split second, the group thought it was over—but Alyosha stood back up, unfazed by it. Sahiro turned toward him. The gaping hole in Alyosha’s forehead began to close, like flesh knitting together as the blood vanished.

  “Oh, Sahiro,” Alyosha chuckled, licking the blood from his lips. “You’re a funny guy. You do know I can’t be stopped, right? Honestly—how are you still alive? I threw you into the school, pierced your leg.”

  “Yeah, seriously, dude,” Cadoc muttered, trying to lighten the mood. “I was already planning your funeral.”

  “ENOUGH,” Alyosha roared. “If I can’t bring you back to the boss alive, then I’ll bring your headless corpse.”

  He launched himself at Sahiro, grabbing him by the collar and tearing through space itself like glass. The apartment shattered as gravity snapped back into place, sending the others crashing to the floor. Alyosha blasted through the city, dragging Sahiro with him. Slamming him through building after building.

  A punch landed square in Sahiro’s chest, launching him like a missile into a glass skyscraper. He crashed through a window, tumbling into the middle of a business meeting.

  “Uh—sorry for the interruption,” Sahiro groaned, forcing himself upright. “You guys might wanna run.” They barely had time to react before Alyosha came crashing in, scattering the room in chaos. Fists flew. Sahiro was sent crashing across the building again and again. Something inside him cracked, blood ran from his nose. Alyosha, meanwhile, looked like he could keep going forever.

  Alyosha grabbed Sahiro by the neck and lifted him off the ground.

  “When I’m done with you,” he snarled, “I’m taking you to the boss, killing your friends—and then I’ll have my fun with your sister.” Sahiro’s eyes ignited—this time with dark red energy.

  “YOU WON’T BE DOING ANY OF THAT,” Sahiro growled. “YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

  Dark red energy flooded his left hand. He drove an uppercut into Alyosha’s jaw with enough force that it looked like his chin might tear clean off. Alyosha was launched backward, losing his grip. Sahiro followed with another punch, sending him flying.

  Power surged through Sahiro—raw, uncontrollable. The closest comparison was childhood sugar highs—except this was violent. He was surging with so much energy that he began to fly, and he didn’t even know how.

  Alyosha recovered quickly, wiping the blood from his face. Rage twisted his expression. He’d never been hit like that before. And now he was certain to kill Sahiro.

  “That won’t happen again,” Alyosha growled. “Watch me,” Sahiro replied, a smirk flickering across his face.

  Alyosha roared and swung, mimicking Sahiro’s earlier strike—but Sahiro dodged effortlessly. He countered with a punch that sent Alyosha crashing at a small shop on the street below. Hordes of bystanders formed a crowd, drawn by the destruction.

  Alyosha finally snapped.

  Just like at the school, he slammed both of his fists into the ground, and the impact erased everything. People within miles were reduced to dust and bone in an instant; there was no sound because they didn’t have time to realize what was happening. Sahiro descended slowly, careful not to put his feet on the ground, making sure he didn’t break any bones.

  “You didn’t have to kill them,” Sahiro said quietly, his voice heavy. He watched what had been a crowd just disintegrate in a matter of seconds. All gone by one punch. “They were dead the moment they laid eyes on me,” Alyosha snarled. “JUST LIKE YOU!”

  Sahiro didn’t move.

  Alyosha charged, throwing another punch—but Sahiro slipped past it and drove his fist straight into Alyosha’s chest. Blood exploded from Alyosha’s mouth.

  Sahiro lifted him by the spine and tore him apart, flesh and bone splitting with a sound he would never forget.

  Blood poured over him like a gladiator drenched in victory. He dropped the remains onto the street, away from the dust and bones. Alyosha knew—this time—he wouldn’t recover.

  Sahiro stared at what he’d done. He was horrified by what he did. He never saw so much blood. He never imagined he could do something like this. Alyosha laughed weakly, blood bubbling from his mouth.

  “Good job, kid,” he coughed, “Didn’t think you had that violence in you.”

  “I heard my friends say they shot you in the brain and the heart,” Sahiro said shakily. “How are you even alive?”

  “I have an ability,” Alyosha said. “Just like you. Just like your friends. Just like your sister. Everyone’s different—no two abilities are the same.” He forced a laugh that quickly turned into pain.

  “I can’t die. Bullets to the brain or heart don’t work on me, not like a normal person. My body pushes the bullet out and heals. But…” he glanced down at himself, barely holding together. “I can’t pull myself back together.”

  Sahiro’s head was spinning with so many questions.

  “Abilities?” he whispered. “What are you talking about?”

  “Best part?” Alyosha said, voice fading. “I don’t even have much time to tell you, kid. You and your friends are dead before you even step out of Kazan.”

  “Wait, I have more questions—" But it was too late, Alyosha stopped breathing. Sahiro heard his heart give its final beat.

  Sirens wailed in the distance. Sahiro stood in the middle of the street, drenched in blood, lost and terrified. He knew if he stayed longer, the police would shoot him on sight—and he wasn’t ready to test whether he was bulletproof.

  He flew back to his apartment and slipped through the massive hole in the wall. His friends stared at him in silence—covered in blood, eyes hollow.

  But his sister didn’t hesitate.

  She instantly rushed forward and wrapped her arms around him, holding him as tightly as she could, tears soaking into his shoulder.

  “Oh, thank God!” she sobbed. “I thought Alyosha killed you. When I saw you holding the knife, I thought I was imagining it. But you’re here—you’re flying, I knew you’d have abilities—"

  Sahiro gently pushed his sister off him. Walentrya froze when she saw his expression. Walentrya had never seen her brother so upset.

  “We need to talk,” Sahiro said, “All of us.”

  Cadoc swallowed. “…fuck,” he muttered.