Opening his eyes, beads of cold sweat dropped down his face—his back as well.
For the first time since he first regressed, Frey had finally experienced it.
Death.
His pounding heart made it clear that what he felt was real.
Even now he could still feel the ringing of his ears, his flesh burning underneath the pile of rubble.
It was excruciating, enough so that he did not want to relive through that again.
"An explosion…" Frey muttered, his breath uneven. "That's how I died?"
The pain was gone—yes, but for Frey, the feeling was just moments ago.
Frey instinctively turned towards the source of the explosion, the right side of his bedroom.
He stood up and walked towards his window, his sunset view, now blocked by a wall of concrete. A narrow alley had appeared where there hadn't been one before.
How could he have not noticed it before? A difference in the environment would have been spotted immediately.
It was simple really, the regression was still taking him by surprise and he was still processing everything laid before him.
Then he heard footsteps, not outside his room, but down the newly appeared alley.
Frey leaned and looked downwards, only to find that there were thugs. A group of them loitered in the alley below, some laughing, others pacing. One carried a rifle casually over his shoulder. The rest held pistols, metal pipes, weapons meant to hurt.
No doubt about it, they were probably the reason for the explosion during the night.
Using his ability, he saw the aura they emitted were varying in color, the one that held a rifle was red while the rest were between yellow and orange. Unlike the bright color his sister had, theirs were ominously colored.
If Ada's aura was calm and harmless. This time, the thugs' aura were fluctuating like the flames of a bonfire threatening to spread.
His first thought was to call the police, tell them there were terrorists in that specific alley carrying heavy firearms, but he held onto that idea for now.
If the police came and confronted the thugs, with his F-Grade luck, it might backfire and get him killed.
"If my author-senses are right, the cops would probably be in cahoots with them. At the very least, they are easily paid by bigshots. I don't want that kind of trouble for now." Frey quickly shook his head.
They might be under a rich person like Kingpin or worse, the thugs were H.Y.D.R.A agents.
Unlikely but the possibility of it happening still lingers.
The current problem was the explosion that killed him, if his plans to deal with them went south, he might be dragging Ada to their graves as well.
Which meant there was only one way to deal with this problem.
Well there were multiple, but he preferred the most hands on approach.
"I'll have to take care of this myself..."
But he was not some hero with great strength or powers, he only had his brain.
Grabbing the baseball bat underneath his bed, Frey dressed up and left his room.
"Where are you going?" Ada, who had just woken up, asked Frey who was putting on his shoes.
With one knee knelt on the floor, Frey replied "Just going to take a couple of swings. I'll be back after a while."
"Oh if that's the case, could you buy some yogurt from the store below? I ate all of mine already." Ada yawns as she scratches her stomach.
"Sure, Sure." Despite his calm demeanor, his hands struggled to properly tie the laces of his shoes.
Something so basic to accomplish was proving to be difficult for him.
He was shaking.
It would not be a lie to say he was a bit scared of what he was about to do, but if he wanted to live—this was necessary.
Ada, staring at her brother who was having a hard time tying his shoelace, moved next to him and also knelt down.
Frey watched as Ada flawlessly tied his shoelace under five seconds no less. Once she was done, she stood up and walked away. But not before knocking on Frey's head and calling him "Dummy".
He just stared at her.
'Yes, there's no need to be afraid.'
With his bat in hand, Frey stood up.
'I'm doing this for her.'
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips—not because he felt brave, but because he finally felt certain.
Certain of what he had to do.
Ever since they were kids, it had always been like this.
When their home was too quiet, they filled it together. When life became too heavy, they carried different parts of the load. Frey worked hard. Ada studied harder. He cooked. She learned.
They weren't alike—but they never needed to be.
As long as they were still standing side by side, that was enough.
With that, Frey took a step outside, prepared to face his first ever wall that he had to climb over.
...
...
...
In one of New York's alley, men dressed in white wife beaters moved without a moments rest.
A man in his forties pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, shielding the flame from the wind with his palm. It was his turn to stand guard.
Vans were parked nearby, their backs open as crates labeled vegetables and fruit were unloaded. Only those in the business knew what was really inside.
Specially manufactured weapons.
Clean. Compact. Designed to slip past metal detectors and ordinary scans.
With heroes cracking down on most arms dealers, weapons like these were harder to come by and far more valuable. But money still talked, and the right buyers were always willing to pay.
Another order had already been placed by one of the underworld's bigger names, in bulk too, they'd soon become regular suppliers for them.
It was only a matter of time before their gang rises and becomes one of the best weapons dealer in the market.
The man took a drag from his cigarette, eyes scanning the alley.
Giving the passerby's a few looks, his job was simple, look intimidating and scare off anyone who wandered too close.
With a puff from his cigarette, he didn't notice the young man until he was only a few steps away.
"Huh, a kid?"
The bat in the kid's hand made him pause—but only for a moment.
Seeing that the young man was holding a bat, The thug assumed that the kid only was planning to play outside.
"Go, play somewhere else kid. This alley's off limits." the man said, waving him off.
The thug was 6'7 in height and the young man was only 5'8—a foot's difference. The height difference alone was enough for him to dismiss the kid entirely. Too small. Too thin. No threat.
He even felt a twinge of pity.
He had a soft spot for kids, however, so he let the young man go with only a warning, unaware of the piercing eyes that were now filled with fury.
...
...
...
[ Frey Lumens POV ]
'Did I hear this guy correctly?'
Maybe it was just a misunderstanding on his part. No worries, everybody makes mistakes.
Nobody is perfect after all.
"Go, play somewhere else kid. This alley's off limits."
Seeing the person in front of me wave me away, something inside me snapped.
Kid.
Like I was some lost child who'd wandered too far from home.
My finger's grip on the bat tightened, ready to unleash whatever it was boiling inside me.
True, I was a bit small for someone my age.
Yeah, I was shorter than most guys. Five-eight wasn't exactly intimidating. I'd heard it all before—polite rejections, awkward excuses, looks that said no before words ever did.
I was totally not insecure about my height.
"Sorry, I need to focus on my studies."
"I actually have a boyfriend."
"Eww..."
Funny how something so small followed you everywhere.
I exhaled slowly.
Thanks, old man.
At least now I won't feel bad about where I hit you.
The man turned his back on me.
That was it.
I stepped forward and swung.
The bat cracked against the back of his knee with a wet, hollow sound.
He screamed and collapsed before the echo faded.
There was no turning back now.