Cal leapt from rooftop to rooftop, clearing 30-40 feet at a time, watching the man weave through the air with a terrifying grace, leaving a trail of fire in his wake. Each movement was precise, controlled—too controlled. It was like watching someone who had trained for this, who knew exactly what they were doing with their powers.
Cal pushed harder, feeling the familiar strain in his muscles as he tried to close the distance. He thought back to his own struggle, how long it had taken him to master even the basics of his abilities. He'd spent months learning how to control his leaps, how to fight without breaking himself in the process. And now, here was this man, flying through the air like it was the easiest thing in the world.
Ahead of him, the villain glanced back, his eyes gleaming with a manic light. "You like the show, Undead Man?" he shouted, his voice carrying over the roar of the wind. "I think it's time I gave myself a proper name. Something cool. What do you think about 'Inferno'?"
Cal didn't respond, his focus narrowed to the villain in front of him. He could feel his pulse pounding in his ears, his frustration building with every passing second. He had to stop this guy before he could hurt anyone else.
Inferno laughed, the sound echoing through the sky. "Better than 'The Undead Man,' right? What a lame name. And that girl you were with? What should we call her? How about 'Puddlegirl'? That works. I'll melt her down and have you drink her. How's that for a villain story?"
Cal's jaw clenched, but he kept his silence. His eyes were locked on Inferno, he tried to hide his anger from the threats. He was trying not to rise to the bait. But as he reached out, his fingers brushing the hot air left in Inferno's wake, he saw a flicker of something in the villain's eyes—a hint of fear, a moment of doubt. Inferno faltered, the bravado slipping as he saw the cold determination in Cal's gaze.
But before Cal could get any closer, something slammed into him from the side, knocking the air from his lungs. He tumbled through the sky, the ground rushing up to meet him. He hit hard, pain lancing through his body as he rolled across the cracked pavement, finally coming to a stop. He pushed himself up, his vision blurring as his head throbbed from the impact. A trickle of blood ran down his temple, but he felt the wound seal almost instantly.
Standing across from him, the agent who had tackled him straightened, a smug grin on his face. His stance was low and predatory, his nails elongated into sharp, claw-like points. "Not so fast, hero," the agent growled, his eyes narrowed.
Cal glanced past him, his heart sinking as he saw Inferno and the winged agent already disappearing over the rooftops, their figures fading from sight. His hands clenched into fists as he turned back to the agent in front of him.
"Why the hell would you do that?" Cal snapped, his voice rough with frustration and anger. "We're on the same side!"
The agent sneered, his eyes cold and calculating. "Same side? You're just a problem I was hired to clean up." He shrugged, the gesture casual and dismissive. "I'm on the side that pays the most."
Cal's teeth ground together. This was exactly why he couldn't trust the SRA, why he hadn't wanted to join them. It wasn't about justice or protecting people for them—it was about control, about money. This man was everything he despised, a mercenary who cared more about his paycheck than the lives at stake.
"You let him get away," Cal said, his voice low and dangerous. "He could kill people, and you let him go. For what? For money?"
The agent's grin widened, his claws flexing as he stepped closer. "Doesn't matter to me. I'm not paid to worry about casualties. I'm paid to deal with problems like you." He lunged, his movements quick and fluid, the claws slicing through the air with lethal precision.
Cal barely had time to react, throwing himself to the side as the agent's claws grazed his shoulder, tearing through the fabric of his shirt. He felt a sting of pain as they bit into his skin, but his healing factor was already at work, sealing the wound almost as soon as it was made. He turned, his eyes blazing with anger.
"You're just a pawn," Cal growled, his voice vibrating with barely controlled fury. "And you're letting a killer get away. Do you even care?"
The agent laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Care? About what? A couple of bank tellers? I care about me and mine, and that's about it." He lunged again, this time aiming for Cal's eyes, the claws flashing in the sunlight.
Cal dodged, but not fast enough. He felt the claws rake across his face, narrowly missing his eyes. Pain flared, hot and sharp, and he staggered back, his vision blurring. Blood dripped down his cheek, but even as the cuts began to close, he could feel his anger building even further, a white-hot fury that threatened to consume him.
This man had just let a dangerous villain escape, all for the sake of a paycheck. He'd allowed someone who had threatened to murder Amber—who had threatened to kill innocent people—fly free because he didn't care enough to stop him. The thought of it made Cal's blood boil, his fists trembling with the force of his rage.
He felt the familiar surge of power, the urge to unleash everything, to crush this man who represented everything he hated about the SRA, about society. But he forced himself to hold back, to breathe through the anger that was clawing at his chest. He had to control it. He had to.
The agent watched him, his grin widening as he saw Cal's hesitation. "What's the matter?" he taunted, his voice dripping with mockery. "You scared? Or just too weak to do what needs to be done?"
The agent lunged again, his claws flashing in the sunlight, and this time, Cal was ready. He sidestepped the attack, his movements precise and controlled. He swung, his fist connecting with the agent's jaw with a sickening crunch. The agent staggered back, his eyes wide with shock as he spat blood, the smile wiped from his face.
Cal took a step forward, his voice low and filled with barely contained fury. "I'm not scared of you. And I'm not weak." He paused, his eyes burning with intensity. "But I'm not like you. I'm not going to let you push me into something I'll regret."
The agent snarled, his claws flexing as he wiped the blood from his mouth. "Big talk, hero. Let's see if you can back it up."