The alleys of the eastern slums coiled like broken ribs through a corpse. Emery walked them with the quiet confidence of someone who knew where every bone fractured.
He wasn't alone.
Behind him moved a scattered group of children twelve hardened little misfits trailing like shadows. They didn't talk much, didn't complain, and didn't stray. Most of them were barefoot. All of them were hungry. Emery led them not like a big brother, but like a warlord in training his steps certain, his posture straight, his eyes sweeping every face they passed like a general marking the field.
At four years old, he already had lieutenants.
The slums offered nothing but rot: tin lean-tos stitched together with tarp and old rope, clay huts scorched black from old fire, and the stench of fish guts and boiled bones bleeding from nearby soup pits. A place where a wooden roof was luxury, and owning your own piss bucket meant you had status.
But Emery wasn't searching for comfort.
He was hunting familiarity.
And then he saw him.
Leaning against a crumbling wall beneath a torn awning, chewing on a twig like it owed him money, stood a boy with short black hair parted down the middle and a crooked nose Emery knew better than his own reflection.
Griff.
Emery stopped.
Griff looked up, froze, then blinked. "No fucking way."
Emery's mouth curled, disbelief and fire flashing behind his sharp little eyes. "Griff? Is that really you?"
Griff grinned, stepping away from the wall. "Emery Vane. I thought I was the only one dumped into this dirtpile."
The two of them stood for a moment in silence, grinning like fools who'd seen ghosts.
One of the kids behind Emery whispered, "Boss? You good?"
Emery raised a hand. "Fine. This one's… an old friend."
Griff laughed. "You brought a damn army."
"Twelve brats and half a loaf of moldy bread isn't an army," Emery replied, walking forward. "But it's a start."
Griff crossed his arms, still grinning. "You always did start with scraps."
Griff stopped in front of him, looking him up and down. "You look shorter."
Emery smirked. "no shit we're 4 now retard."
The two boys stared for a second longer before they burst out laughing.
One of Emery's crew blinked. "You two gonna kiss or fight?"
Griff looked at the kid, raising an eyebrow. "Cheeky little runt."
"Careful," Emery said, half-smiling. "They bite."
Griff turned serious for a beat. "So. You're really here. Same soul. Same memories?"
"Same bastard," Emery confirmed.
"And your power?"
"Dormant," Emery said quietly. "But it's there. You?"
Griff nodded. "Something's cooking. I don't know what yet. But it's not normal."
Another pause. A heavy one.
Griff leaned forward. "You think the others are out there?"
"I'd bet blood on it," Emery said. "And when we find them, we'll rebuild it all. From the dirt, like before."
Griff looked around. "Got a base yet?"
"A shack," Emery said. "My parents think I'm some weird prodigy. Mom works her fingers to the bone washing bloodstained rags. Dad guards the southern wall. Poor as hell. But good people."
Griff shrugged. "Better than most of the trash around here."
Behind them, one of the little girls yanked on Emery's tunic. "Boss… food stand."
Emery glanced across the narrow alley.
A hunched vendor dozed beneath a sagging tarp roof, surrounded by hanging rats, bruised apples, and sticks of meat Emery was pretty sure were pigeon. No guard. No crowd.
Griff smirked. "Old times?"
Emery nodded once. "One each. No running. No chaos. Clean hands."
Griff moved like smoke. Emery's kids followed like a practiced crew. Two distracted. One bumped the cart. Emery swiped the apples. They disappeared into a side alley before the vendor even scratched his nose.
Minutes later, they sat on a slab of stone behind a shattered building. Griff bit into his apple and groaned. "Tastes like home."
"If home was fermented cardboard," Emery muttered, but he didn't stop chewing.
The kids watched silently. A few gnawed their own stolen prizes. Others guarded the alley mouths, instinctively forming a loose perimeter.
Griff looked at them, then at Emery. "They follow you like dogs."
"They follow because they know I won't let them starve," Emery said, voice cool. "And because I remember what it's like to have nothing."
Griff nodded. "You gonna be king again?"
Emery took another bite, eyes staring far past the alley. "Something better. Something permanent."
Griff grinned. "You always did think too big."
"And you always followed anyway."
They bumped shoulders.
Then Emery stood and stretched. "You want to come down to my raggedy place and talk business
Griff nodded.
"Alright let's get going." Said Emery
He looked at the kids. "Two of you come with me and the rest of you do some pickpocketing and shoplifting?"
They glanced at Emery and in unison nodded.
Emery nodded. "Yeah. Things are finally starting to come together now."