Spider could smell it—the air turning against him.
For weeks, he'd fed on chaos, planting blades, stirring fights, pulling strings. But now kids were looking at Jayden differently. They weren't just waiting for his explosions anymore—they were watching him for steadiness, for something solid in a place built on sand.
And Spider hated it.
---
A Public Display
The cafeteria was Spider's stage. He stood at the center, Rico and two of Knox's crew flanking him like shadows. He clapped his hands, grinning wide.
"Funny thing about fire," Spider said, voice carrying through the room. "It looks bright, it makes you think it'll last forever. But fire's weak. It dies the second it runs out of air."
Laughter rose from his corner. Heads turned. Jayden sat at his table, silent, chewing his bread slow. The fire inside roared.
Spider tossed a candy bar onto Jayden's tray. "Here. Sweet tooth. Might keep you from crying when max finally comes calling."
The block froze, waiting for an explosion. Waiting for fire.
Jayden pushed the bar across the table again, this time to the same scrawny kid as before. The boy's hands shook, eyes wide.
Jayden looked straight at Spider, no smile, no rage. Just control. "Keep talking. The more you talk, the less anyone listens."
A hush fell over the room. Some kids smirked. Some nodded. Spider's grin faltered just a fraction. But his eyes glinted with something colder than anger—calculation.
---
Behind the Scenes
That night Dre's voice came through the wall, steady but low. "You're winning ground. But watch your back. Spider's not the type to lose loud. He'll move quiet. He'll move dirty."
Jayden stared at the ceiling. The fire inside pulsed, demanding a fight, demanding a release. "Then I'll be ready," he whispered.
He opened his sketchbook, drew Spider as a shadow with many arms, each holding a string connected to different kids in the block. Then he drew himself, smaller but standing, a flame burning through the threads one by one.
Underneath he wrote: I don't need to cut him down. I just need to cut him off.
---
The Net Tightens
Two days later, Spider played his hand.
It started with whispers. "Jayden's working with the guards." "Jayden's soft." "Jayden's a snitch."
By evening, the rumors had wrapped the block like wire. Kids who'd nodded at him yesterday now looked away, muttering. Some even backed off when he walked near.
Rico smirked every time Jayden passed, whispering "snitch" just loud enough.
The fire clawed at Jayden's chest. His hands shook when he lay on the cot, sketchbook untouched. The system didn't need to lock him up if Spider turned the whole block against him.
Through the wall, Dre's voice pressed in. "Don't break. Rumors fade if you outlast them. Fire dies if you feed it."
Jayden shut his eyes, breathing through his teeth. Patience. Strategy. Don't feed it.
But he knew Spider wasn't done. Rumors were just the first thread. The real trap was still waiting.
---
The Boil Beneath
At lights-out, Jayden finally picked up his pencil. He drew himself standing in a storm, flames swirling, whispers like black smoke around him. The figure's fists weren't raised, but its eyes burned steady.
Underneath he scrawled: I won't fight smoke. I'll burn the net.
And as he closed the book, Spider's laugh echoed down the hall, low and mocking, promising that the game wasn't over.
It was only just beginning.