Sunlight poured through the thin curtains, cutting across the messy bedroom floor. The alarm clock had been blaring for nearly five minutes, but Rudo lay motionless, his face buried deep in his pillow.
"Honey, wake up! You're going to be late for school!" His mother's voice sliced through the morning air like a sword.
Rudo groaned, pulling the blanket tighter over his head. If I just stay still... maybe she'll think I'm dead, he thought, smirking. Or at least, too sick to go.
That hope vanished with the sound of thunderous footsteps closing in. "I SAID WAAAKE UP!"
Before Rudo could react—BANG! The bed frame splintered beneath him, sending him tumbling to the floor in a cloud of sheets and dust.
"AH! What the hell, Mom?!" Rudo yelled, clutching his side.
Valora stood over him, arms crossed and utterly calm. "Oh dear, I just bought that bed. Look what you made me do. Now go wash your face and come eat breakfast."
"My fault?!" Rudo shouted, eyes wide. "You punched me for no reason, you old hag!"
The room went dead silent. Valora's eyes darkened. "...What was that, dear?" she asked in a tone so icy that the air itself seemed to freeze.
Rudo gulped. "N-nothing!"
Valora cracked her knuckles. The neighbors heard the next bang from two houses away.
Downstairs, the smell of French toast, cinnamon buns, and sizzling sausage filled the kitchen. Rudo sat down, rubbing the fresh bump on his head. Despite his injuries, his eyes widened at the feast before him.
"Whoa..." He grabbed his fork and began devouring everything in sight.
Valora poured herself some tea. "By the way," she said casually, "I got a call from your school. Something about a fight? Between students? In a single day?"
Rudo froze mid-bite, then swallowed hard—almost choking. "C-cough! It wasn't my fault! They said horrible things about you, and one of them even called you a—"
"Enough." Valora's voice was sharp. "What did I say about letting it go? They're not worth it."
"But—"
"But nothing. One of them ended up in the hospital, Rudo. He could've pressed charges. You're lucky the parents understood and dropped it... after I paid the hospital bill."
She slid the paper across the table. Rudo's face fell. "Mom, I'm—"
Before he could finish, thwack! Valora flicked him hard on the forehead.
"OW! What was that for?!"
Valora smiled sweetly. "For being a good boy."
He blinked. "Huh?"
"But if you keep acting like this at school," she added, "you'll never find me a daughter-in-law."
Rudo's face turned red. "HUH? W-what are you even talking about?!"
Valora gasped. "Oh my! Look at the time! You'd better start walking before you're late."
"But—"
"No buts! And promise me—no more fights."
Rudo sighed and held up his pinky. "Fine. I promise."
"Good," Valora said, smiling brightly. "Now, go."
As Rudo stepped outside, the morning air was crisp—alive with the sounds of cars, voices, and the steady hum of the city waking up.
On his way to the bus stop, he muttered under his breath, "Just a normal day. No fighting, no trouble."
But before he reached the corner, he saw them—a familiar group of three guys swaggering down the opposite sidewalk, laughing loud, girls hanging off their arms, their laughter sharp and wild like hyenas.
"Damn it. Not now," Rudo hissed, lowering his head and quickening his pace in the same direction.
"Hey, isn't that Rudo?!" one of them shouted. "You think you can just walk past us, hiding your face, after what you did?"
Rudo didn't slow down. "Don't have time for you idiots today."
The bus pulled up just in time. Rudo hurried to the doors before the group could cross the street.
"Hey—student pass," the driver said, holding out a hand.
Rudo frowned. "Man, come on. You see me on this bus every day."
"Student pass," the driver repeated flatly.
Rudo dug through his pockets, then his bag—nothing. "Damn it. I can't find it."
"No pass, no ride," the driver said. "Off."
"You've gotta be kidding me!" Rudo snapped. "Ask one of those guys—I'm on here every morning!"
"Don't care. Off the bus!" the driver barked.
The doors shut, and the bus rolled away, leaving Rudo standing on the curb, fists clenched.
"Damn…" he muttered.
A hand suddenly grabbed the back of his collar, yanking him back.
"You sent one of our boys to the hospital. Did you forget?" one of the boys growled.
One of the bullies swung. Rudo moved like lightning—ducking under the punch and pivoting aside. His body reacted before his mind could. Instinct screamed: Hit back. End it fast.
But then—"No fights. Promise me."
He twisted his motion mid-swing, deflecting instead of striking.
"Slow ass," Rudo muttered under his breath.
Another fist came at him—he dodged, slipped behind the second guy, and shoved him hard. The bully stumbled, crashing into the grass.
The leader didn't rush. He just stood there, calm, looking at his fallen friends not with concern—but disappointment.
"Back off," Rudo warned.
The leader met his gaze, eyes cold. "This'll be the last time you embarrass me."
The public bus rumbled up behind Rudo. He stepped back slowly, the leader still watching him, unfazed.
Before he could make another move, one of the girls tugged his arm. "Come on—we're gonna be late. Forget him."
He smacked her hand off, jaw tight. "Let's go."
Rudo climbed onto the bus and sank into a seat, exhaling hard. He glanced at his phone.
7:58 A.M.
"Crap—first period has already started. With this bus detour, I won't make it until second."
He groaned. "I'm gonna be late because of those assholes."
The bus finally pulled up to the school.
8:25 A.M.
"There's no point rushing," Rudo sighed as he got off. "Already late anyway."
"NO RUNNING IN THE HALLS!" the hall monitor shouted.
Rudo threw up his hands. "I'm not even running!?"
"WHERE'S YOUR HALL PASS? STOP—!"
Rudo brushed past him. "Gavin, you're a waste of my time."
BUMP!
Rudo hit the floor hard. "Ow—what the hell—"
Standing over him, arms crossed, was none other than Mr. Burns, the strict, stone-faced school president.
"Mr. Kurobine," Burns said coolly. "Late again? That's the fifth time this week."
"Uh… I can explain—"
"And no hall pass," Burns interrupted. "Not to mention reports of a fight near the bus stop."
"Fight? How did you—" Rudo turned to see Gavin holding up his phone, a recording already playing.
"Noisy ass…" Rudo muttered.
"It wasn't my fault!" he said quickly. "They jumped me first! I didn't even hit back!"
Burns sighed. "No excuses. You're on probation from fighting, on or off school grounds. And not to mention you're late and failing four classes." His gaze hardened. "If this were any other school, you'd be suspended… maybe even facing police involvement for fighting again after sending a kid to the hospital."
Rudo frowned. "Then why not just kick me out already?"
Burns's gaze hardened. "Because I care," he said evenly. "I took this job to keep students like you from ending up on the streets—or worse. Jail, death… I've seen it happen. That's why I'm giving you another chance. Starting today, you'll serve after-school detention. You'll be helping the janitor for the rest of the week."
"What?! That's not fair! Those idiots—"
Burns cut in, calm but firm. "As much as I'd love to deal with those delinquents, they're not under my authority. They go to Vinland High School for the Gifted."
"'Gifted' my ass," Rudo muttered. "Their parents are just rich. It's not fair."
"Life's never fair," Burns said quietly, his tone steady and cold. "Some people get justice. Others get branded the villain. Even heroes pay the price when their actions make the powerful look weak. That's the truth no one likes to admit."
Rudo glared but stayed silent.
"That'll be all," Burns said at last. "Get to class. I'll inform your mother about the detention."
Rudo froze. "Wait—you're calling my mom?!"
But Burns was already walking away.
Rudo clenched his fists, staring at the floor. How am I supposed to be a good kid if I can't even keep one simple promise to you, Mom…?
The final bell had rung hours ago. The school was quiet now—only the hum of lights and the echo of distant footsteps remained.
Rudo sat slumped near the trophy case, staring at his phone until the low-battery icon felt like a silent judge.
A broom tapped the tiles beside him.
"Hey, kid—time's up," said the janitor, his voice tired but kind. "You've done enough for today. It's getting late—your folks are probably waiting."
"Yeah… thanks," Rudo said, forcing a smile as he shouldered his bag. His ribs ached when he stood.
He walked home faster than usual, the streets stretching longer, emptier than he remembered.
Why isn't she picking up? he thought. Mom never misses my texts.
He opened the camera app that streamed his front porch—a habit he'd picked up when she worked late.
The porch light glowed softly.
The door was wide open.
Weird.
He rewound the camera footage.
6:12:33 PM — Nothing.
6:15:54 PM — Valora is getting ready to leave the house.
6:16:02 PM — A pair of hands grab Valora.
6:16:25 PM — She struggles. The hands look far too big—one could almost wrap around her whole neck.
6:16:35 PM — She's gone.
Shit. Shit, shit—
Rudo's breath hitched, and his chest slammed against his ribs. He tore out of the porch and broke into a run.
"The bus won't come on time—I'm only three miles away, I can make it—" he yelled to himself, words tumbling as he sprinted. His phone read nothing new; the front door slammed shut behind him. "I need to go faster."
Two miles in. One and a half. "Hold on, Mom, I'm coming." His lungs burned, legs pumping like pistons. The house was only a few blocks away now.
Halfway down the street, a shape stepped out of the shadow and blocked his path beneath a park's light.
Rudo stopped, gasping. "Who the hell are you? Show your face!" he barked.
The figure walked out of the darkness. It was the leader. He was grinning, but it wasn't the same cocky smirk Rudo knew; this one was twisted, hungry.
"Where are you going, Mr. Kurobine?" the leader sneered. "Thought you'd get off easy after embarrassing us. You know dumbass was recording the whole thing?"
Rudo's legs slowed. Not now. Not tonight.
Before he could move, he saw it—the blade. The leader held a combat knife that glinted under the streetlight. Worse, something dark dripped from his mouth and down the knife's edge. Rudo couldn't place the smell at first. He took a few slow steps forward, squinting—then the color registered. A thick, viscous red.
"Hey—" Rudo started.
"Tonight you die!" the leader screamed and lunged.
Rudo tried to dodge. The knife flashed—a clean slice across his stomach. It wasn't deep enough to hit organs, but it tore him open just enough to spill hot pain and bright blood across his hand.
The leader laughed, a harsh, broken sound. "Tonight we win!" he croaked.
Rudo staggered back, clutching his wound. "Why are you covered in blood?" he shouted between breaths. "What did you do? Don't tell me you went that far, Draven!"
Draven's eyes snapped to him, wild and wet. He stopped swinging the knife, shaking as he screamed through the chaos.
"You made me do it, Rudo! You made me kill them!" His voice broke into a sob. "Mommy… Daddy… Johnny… Steven… Susan—" He choked, trembling, then howled, "YoU MaDe Me KiLl ThEm!"
The park fell silent—then came the sound of shoes scraping dirt, the crack of branches, and the ragged wheeze of someone bleeding into the night. Rudo tasted copper and iron. The world narrowed to one terrible clarity: whatever Draven had become, it wanted him to pay.
Rudo countered a swing but let the blade stab through his hand. Draven lost balance for a moment, and Rudo took it—hammering punches into Draven's face. Blood poured from Draven's nose, yet he only smiled, almost euphoric.
Draven pulled the knife from Rudo's hand, and instead of flipping the knife for a slash, Draven held it like a spear and drove it down—again and again—into Rudo's stomach, laughing with each brutal thrust.
Rudo screamed, shoved him off, and scrambled upright. He lunged, tackling Draven; they tumbled into a shallow ditch behind the park, dirt and leaves spitting up around them.
A raw, animal howl tore the air. When it faded, one of the boys lay twisted in the trees, an arm bent the wrong way. The knife lay a few feet away, forgotten.
Rudo staggered to his feet, dizzy. Pain flared with every breath; his chest felt tightened like a vise. Bones protested—his shoulder and a finger throbbed with stabbing stars. He stared at the fallen boy, breath ragged. Mom, he told himself. I have to get to her. The thought steadied him, thin but enough.
BANG.
A shot cracked the night.
The report split everything: cracked pavement, the pool of streetlight, the curled boy in the trees. Rudo's vision tunneled; his ears rang. He froze, senses screaming.
Too late. The leader's hand shook on a small revolver—probably taken from his father's drawer—his eyes burning with something like triumph and madness.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The world exploded. One bullet tore into Rudo's stomach, another shredded his ribs, the last shredded his thigh. He lurched back, choking on blood. His knees folded; the world tilted. Colors bled into static. Cold crept under his skin. The edges of everything softened until only one thought pulsed through the haze: Death is coming.
The leader laughed—raw, ugly—and loomed over him, the gun still smoking. "You thought it'd be easy?" he sneered. "You're just an animal that needed hunting… put down." He raised the barrel.
Between ragged breaths, the leader's voice changed, raw and confessional. "Mommy and Daddy never understood me. They wanted to send me away—construction camp. I had to put them down." He spat names like proof and accusation. "Johnny… Steven… my best friends. I told them. They laughed. They said I was joking. They were going to leave."
He smiled, and the smile broke into something manic. "My last hope—my girlfriend. We shared everything. But she was scared. She ran. She judged me."
Draven's laughter curdled into madness. "Oh well," he said between cackles, "I'll just find new ones." He turned the gun toward Rudo, eyes bloodshot and wild. "Where were we?" he asked, cocking the weapon. "Oh right—me shooting you."
Rudo lay there, trembling. Each inhale scraped like broken glass. Darkness crept at the edges of his vision; every breath felt like an argument with death itself.
I couldn't make it. I couldn't save her... he thought, tears mixing with the blood on his face. I failed as a son. Again. I promised I wouldn't fight... and here I am—ashamed.
"Why... why can't I just be better?" Rudo gasped, voice cracking through pain. "Now I'm going to die... to this insane bastard…"
His body spasmed, veins bulging under his skin. "Why... why... WHY?!"
Every muscle seized. His fists clenched so tight his nails cut into his palms. Blood dripped between his fingers. The air thickened—bending, trembling around him. The ground vibrated faintly.
The leader froze, smirking. "You're just like me—" He cocked the gun again, finger trembling on the trigger.
But before the shot came, the world seemed to stop.
The sound stretched thin. Every heartbeat slammed in Rudo's skull like thunder. The air pressed in, heavy. The streetlight flickered.
Then—blur. Motion. Silence.
Draven's eyes widened in disbelief.
Rudo was gone—then in front of him.
One punch.
Draven flew several meters back, crashing into the dirt.
He screamed, clutching his ribs. The pain wasn't fading—it was spreading, burning through him like fire. "What—what the hell are you?!" he spat, blood dripping from his mouth.
Rudo stared at his own trembling, bloodied hands. Did I... do that? The bullet wounds still ached—but they were closing. Slowly. Enough to move. Enough to fight.
He rose, breath ragged, and started toward Draven.
"No!" Draven roared, pulling himself up. "I won't let you humiliate me again!"
He fired—two shots.
Rudo's world slowed again.
The bullets drifted toward him like drifting embers. He could see them, track them. They moved no faster than a thrown punch.
He shifted aside, dodging both, then blurred forward.
A second punch landed—clean, brutal—dropping Draven to one knee. He coughed blood, his laughter turning to wet gasps. "Are you... cough... even human?"
"It's over," Rudo said quietly, still panting. "You can still turn yourself in."
Draven shook his head, tears cutting through the grime on his face. "No... I can't."
A loud BANG echoed behind them.
Rudo's head snapped toward the sound. "Shit—Mom!"
Draven seized the distraction, shoving Rudo back.
He cocked the gun again.
"Dammit, Draven, it's over!" Rudo shouted, stepping forward.
But Draven only smiled—a broken, hollow thing. He pressed the barrel to his own head.
"Wait—!" Rudo shouted.
BANG.
The gun fell first. Then Draven's body.
Rudo froze, the world narrowing into silence. He dropped to his knees beside him, trembling. "...No..."
He gently lifted the body, dragging it to the edge of the park where he would be found and hopefully where someone would call 9-1-1.
Then he stood, blood dripping down his arm, breath shallow but burning.
Mom.
He ran. The earth seemed to quake beneath his feet.
Each step hit harder, faster. The night air pulsed around him, his heartbeat thundering like war drums.
He wasn't sure what was happening to him.
Only that he had to keep moving.
His muscles coiled, veins glowing faintly beneath his skin. The pain was still there—but distant now, drowned beneath something fierce and rising. His body moved on instinct—faster, sharper, unstoppable.
As Rudo reached his home, he saw his house ablitz, shock he screamed out "MOM!" Without a thought, he ran in.
Rudo pushed through the ruined doorway and froze. The fire roared around him, devouring the walls and ceiling. In the midst of the flames stood two men and a woman dressed in black cloaks, with two of them wearing white blindfolds marked by a broken infinity symbol. They stood motionless in the center of the living room.
One man was massive, towering like a doorframe at nearly 6'9"–6'10". His entire body was draped in cloth, giving him an almost otherworldly presence. The second was tall as well, around 6'3", muscular, with sleek black hair that fell in soft layers like bangs, brushing his red eyes. The woman stood about 5'7", reminiscent of Rudo's mother. Her blue hair was lighter and shorter, but her calm, controlled demeanor radiated a dangerous energy.
In the middle of it all, the black-haired man stood in front of Valora, his hand plunged through her chest. A small, slick, bleeding shape thudded in his palm. Rudo's stomach churned. No words, no sound—only the sound of the heartbeat. Thump... thump... thump. Faint and weakening with each second, it still pulsed enough to make his chest tighten, a cruel reminder of a life hanging by a thread.
Valora's eyes met Rudo's, and she smiled. "Dark blue looks beautiful on you, sweetie," she said, her voice breathless, her smile trembling. "Sorry if… I… worried you."
Rudo had no words. The world narrowed to the steadying beat of his mother's heart.
The man holding the heart laughed softly. He withdrew his hand from her chest and let Valora slump to the floor. The still-beating organ sat in his palm like a grotesque offering. He mouthed, "I didn't know you had a kid. Sorry, kid — I would've killed you first," and smiled as if it were a joke.
Rudo's eyes darkened. Desperation clenched his body; a raw howl tore from him — "AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" — and the calm aura that had surrounded him flared into something violent and unruly. He fixed on the man. "I'LL KILL YOU," he snarled.
The man whistled, a thin, mocking sound. "Fwhiiiit. Scary little boy, huh? Your output's pathetic — maybe below average. Kinda sad."
Rudo lunged. The man caught his fist easily. "Your soul output is low as hell," he said, turning Rudo's momentum to fling him across the burning living room. "But your punch… weirdly powerful."
Rudo scrambled up amid falling plaster, only to find the man behind him. A backhand sent him reeling; he hit the floor coughing blood. The man seized Rudo by the collar, lifting him as if to finish it.
"Please — stop!" Valora screamed, scrambling toward them and clutching at the woman's robes.
The woman in the black cloak knelt before Valora. Her voice was an icicle. "Release the seal on the heart, and we may leave you alive."
Valora's face collapsed into despair. She raised a trembling hand, bit her lip until blood welled, and with a shaking finger traced a circle on the floor, inscribing an X within it with the blood she drew from her mouth.
The man dropped Rudo and carried the heart to the circle, placing it in the center. "Now say it," he ordered.
Valora hesitated, then spoke, voice thin as smoke: "I vow to unbind my heart, though it be torn from my flesh. Let it wander the world unbound and unguarded, until the awakening calls it to the one it was meant to serve."
The blood-inked circle shimmered. The heart stilled. Flesh and life blackened and congealed until, with a small, sickening sound, it folded into the shape of a key — black and cold as night.
"See?" the man said, plucking the key up. "Was that so hard?"
He rose to leave, cradling the new key like a prize.
"Kill the boy—" Arrow started, but froze mid-command, his voice strangled. "I can't move." Vor's jaw clenched; the others ground their teeth. "That woman did something," someone hissed.
Valora looked at Rudo. He reached for her; she smiled faintly, but he could not hear her words. She touched his face and whispered, "…sorry, baby. This might hurt." Then she snapped her fingers.
The snap was the signal. Walls exploded outward as a concussion shoved Rudo through the house and out into the night. He crashed across lawn and rubble, finally skidding to a stop. "MOM!" he screamed, raw and broken.
Sirens threaded into the distance — closer now — and voices rose in confused alarm at the scene.
From inside the inferno, Valora laughed once, a sound cut by the blood at her mouth. "Bad mistake," she called weakly. "You pissed off my son."
The man sneered. "So terrified of that weak boy," he said. "Really."
"He's not weak," Valora said, proud even as she burned. "I'll give my life for him." She lifted her right arm, ready to finish the seal.
The man's eyes widened. "She's a seal-user — if I'd known—" he thought aloud.
Then the house convulsed. The blood-circle flared and ran like lightning across the floor; sigils unfurled from the cloak-woman's knees and burst outward. A roar and a massive explosion threw a shock wave that leveled what remained of the living room.
The cloaked gang moved with brutal speed — reaction measured in milliseconds — and dodged clear of the blast. Valora was caught in the heart of the detonation. When the smoke cleared, the seal lifted from the black-cloaked trio; the house lay in ruins. They'd survived by inches.
Rudo, coughing ash and dirt, keened, "MOOOOOOM!" His voice was split.
The gang regrouped in the wreckage's shadow. Arrow spat, "That was too close. We should've planned better."
Vor muttered, "She did all that for nothing?"
"No," the man said calmly. "It wasn't meant to kill us. It was a signal — they know we were here now."
"We should go before people see us," Arrow said.
"What about the boy?" Vor asked.
"Leave him," the man decided. "He's a waste of time. People will come anyway."
Rudo's vision blurred with rage. "COME BACK HERE, YOU COWARD! I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL TEAR YOUR HEART OUT! I'LL MAKE YOU PAY FOR EVERY BREATH SHE LOST!" he screamed.
The man laughed, unaffected. "If you want to kill me, come find me," he said. "Name's Dragon. But for now — you're about to get your ass kicked." He stepped forward, ready.
Arrow protested, "You're just going to say your name!? We have to leave—"
Dragon threw a punch into Rudo's stomach. Before it connected, a blast of heat suddenly stopped his fist — flames licking the air between them. "Damn, they're here," someone hissed.
Vor's voice rose in glee. "The Extermination Unit — an executioner."
"Vor, no," Arrow warned.
Dragon grinned. "Got carried away. Wasted too much time." Burns — a figure who had arrived silently amid the chaos — stepped forward, voice cold as steel. "Back off, Dragon."
"Make me," Dragon sneered.
Tension shivered between the two as two auras bled into the air — violent orange and sickly red. Arrow barked, "Stop! If we fight him here, more of the Unit will come. We can't face them all."
Dragon released his aggression. "Fine. You win today," he spat, and the group retreated, lifting their veil of presence and slipping away.
Before they vanished, Dragon looked back at Rudo. "Hey Kid, next time we meet, I'll actually kill you. Chow." Then they were gone.
Burns exhaled and let his hold loosen. He glanced at the sirens — closer now — and the rescuers who would soon arrive. He crossed to Rudo, touched the boy's forehead, and gently knocked him out. Cradling him in one arm, Burns carried Rudo away into the shadows before the cops and firefighters could reach the gutted house.