The silence didn't last. Spider was never one to let quiet breathe too long. Quiet meant control, and control was power. If Jayden had shown even a flicker of restraint, Spider had to tear it down. That was his nature. And Rico, his pride still stung from bruises that hadn't yet faded, was more than willing to help. Together, they were a fuse waiting to burn.
The Spark in the Steam
It started small, almost nothing at all. In the showers, steam blurred the walls, the stink of mildew and sweat mixed with the hiss of running water. Jayden kept his eyes down, soap slipping through his hands. He was thinking of Dre's last words through the wall — patience buys you time — when the shove came.
Hard. Deliberate. Right between the shoulder blades.
He spun, water dripping into his eyes, heart thudding like a drum. Rico's smirk gleamed through the mist. Behind him, Spider leaned against the tile, arms crossed, expression calm, eyes sharp. Watching. Waiting.
"Thought you were untouchable now?" Rico sneered, voice thick with challenge.
Jayden's fists clenched. The fire surged, screaming for release. One good punch and Rico would crumble. But Dre's voice cut through like steel: Make them move first. Don't play their game.
Jayden took a step back instead. His whole body trembled with the effort. "I don't have time for you."
The words tasted like blood on his tongue, but he forced them out. He turned away.
Rico lunged, but before the fight could ignite, a guard's bark split the air: "Break it up! Move!" Boots clanged on wet concrete. The boys scattered.
Spider's smirk lingered. His eyes told the truth: This isn't over.
---
Poison in the Air
By lunch the whispers were already rolling through the cafeteria.
"Carter's slipping."
"Soft now."
"Spider runs the block again."
Jayden chewed stale bread, jaw tight. He felt eyes on him, weighing him, waiting to see if the fire would explode or if restraint meant weakness.
Spider slid into the seat across from him, tray untouched, smile sharp as a blade. "You keep walking away, fire-boy, but you know what the system sees? Prey. They'll ship you to max anyway. Might as well make it worth it."
Jayden leaned in, his voice low, steady. "You keep pushing, and one day, I won't just burn you. I'll erase you."
No shouting. No fists. Just ice in his tone.
For the first time, Spider blinked. Just a flicker. But Jayden saw it.
---
Dre's Warning
That night, Dre's voice scraped through the wall, gravel low.
"You can't keep walking that edge, Scrap. They're tightening the noose. Spider wants you angry. Rico wants you violent. And the staff? They're praying for it. One slip, and they all win."
Jayden stared at the ceiling. The fire curled hot under his ribs. "How long do I have to keep holding it back?"
"As long as it takes," Dre answered. "Control isn't weakness. It's survival."
Jayden gritted his teeth, fighting the truth in those words. Survival was patience. But patience tasted like ash.
---
The Escalation
The next morning, the trap snapped shut. During line-up, a guard marched straight to Jayden's bunk and pulled a shiv from under the mattress. The block erupted with noise.
"Carter's done."
"Max is waiting."
"Fire-boy's finished."
Jayden's blood went cold. He hadn't touched a blade. He hadn't even seen it before. But none of that mattered. To the system, he was guilty the moment his name was called.
The guard's hand clamped around his arm, steel cuffs biting into his wrists. Spider's grin stretched across the hall like victory itself. Rico's laugh was a knife in the air.
As they dragged him toward the director's office, whispers trailed after him like a funeral procession.
This wasn't just a test anymore. This was war.
And for Jayden, the question burned hotter than the fire inside him: could he prove them wrong without burning himself alive?