The air cracked.
Aki threw himself sideways on instinct. A bolt of crystallized energy screamed past his shoulder and punched through the brick wall behind him. Stone exploded outward in a spray of dust and fragments that stung his face.
He hit the ground hard. His ribs—freshly cracked—sent white-hot pain through his chest. The legs that had just finished regenerating felt like they were made of glass and spite.
"Target mobile! Maintain formation!"
Aki rolled as another blast cratered the pavement where his head had been. Smoke filled the alley. Through it, he could see Order officers spreading out with the kind of professional coordination that meant he was extremely fucked.
He pushed himself up. The gold scars on his arms glowed through the darkness like neon signs advertising FORSAKEN HERE, COME KILL ME.
An officer emerged from the smoke. Young. Armored. His hands were already moving through complex gestures, words spilling from his lips in rapid chant.
Verse user.
Aki grabbed a chunk of broken brick and whipped it at the man's face.
The officer's chant broke. The spell fizzled. He stumbled back, hands going to his nose.
Aki ran.
Not a plan. Not even a good idea. Just the only option that didn't involve standing still while they shot at him.
"Commercial district! Cut him off at Seventh!"
The alley opened onto a wider street. Civilians. Late-night foot traffic. Aki sprinted across, weaving between people who scattered at the sight of his blood-soaked, half-wrapped figure like he was some kind of horror movie extra who'd wandered onto the wrong set.
He dove into the narrow gap between two buildings—barely wider than his shoulders. Behind him, footsteps. Multiple sets. Some faster than humanly possible.
Pulse users. Of course.
The gap twisted. Aki's hands scraped brick. He knew this shortcut. Used it when he couldn't afford transport, which was basically always. It led toward the manufacturing district. Dark. Empty. Places to hide.
The gap ahead was blocked.
Three Order officers. The one in front had heat shimmer radiating from his body like a personal furnace. Pulse user. The other two were already chanting, hands weaving patterns that made the air smell like ozone.
Aki skidded to a stop. Spun.
Two more behind him.
Trapped.
"Wait—" His voice came out rough. "The fuck is this? You people are supposed to be helping Forsaken now!"
The officers didn't respond. Just kept their positions. Spells charging. Professional. Efficient.
"Integration!" Aki's voice rose, cracking slightly on the word. "Academy programs! That's what they blast on every fucking broadcast! Forsaken get support now, get training, get a chance—so why the hell are you trying to kill me?!"
"You're dangerous," the Pulse officer said. Flat. Final. The tone of someone reading a weather report.
"So you just kill us now?" Aki's voice cracked between disbelief and fury.
"Protocol says neutralize if destabilization risk passes seventy percent," the officer replied. "Containment's for those who still have control."
"That's your integration program?" Aki spat.
"I haven't done anything!"
"You threatened a civilian." One of the Verse users spoke without stopping his chant. The spell building between his hands glowed brighter, pulsing in time with his words. "Elderly woman. Pathless. Immediately after your awakening. She reported your location. Described you as violent. Unstable."
The words knocked the air from Aki's lungs.
"What?" The disbelief in his voice was sharp enough to cut. "I helped her! She was getting beaten by—there were three guys—I stepped in and they broke my fucking nose and—"
"Witness statement says you attacked her."
"That's bullshit—"
"Fresh Forsaken experience memory distortion," another officer said. Clinical. Reading from a script he'd probably memorized years ago. "You may not remember the incident clearly. The woman was terrified. Filed an immediate report. You're classified as an active threat."
Aki stared at them. At the spells charging. At the Pulse user's body heat increasing, muscles tensing, ready to move the moment the order came.
The woman he'd tried to save had told them he attacked her.
The woman he'd gotten beaten for. The woman who reminded him of his mother. The woman he'd broken himself trying to protect.
She'd lied.
And they believed her. Of course they believed her. Why wouldn't they? Fresh Forsaken, gold scars glowing, covered in blood—obviously the dangerous one. Obviously the threat.
Not the three guys who'd actually been kicking her. Not the system that made old pathless women targets in the first place.
Him.
Always him.
The heat under Aki's skin climbed higher. Not from exertion. From pure, distilled rage. At the injustice. At being labeled dangerous for trying to help. At a system that crushed people like him no matter what they did.
His blood felt like it was boiling.
"She lied," Aki said. Each word sharp as broken glass. "I didn't touch her. I tried to save her. But that doesn't matter to you people, does it? Forsaken means guilty. Means dangerous. Means kill first and—"
Something exploded in the street behind them.
The shockwave hit like a fist to the chest. Aki went flying. Slammed into a wall. His already-cracked ribs screamed. He hit the ground hard enough to taste blood.
Smoke. Screaming. The sound of stone cracking and metal groaning.
Aki pushed himself up. His vision blurred. Through the smoke, he could see the officers. Two were down. One was getting up, moving on instinct. The Pulse user was already sprinting toward the explosion source.
And beyond them, on the main street, something was wrong.
Another Forsaken. Had to be. Aki could see the glow even through the smoke. Different color—not gold. Red. Like burning coals in the dark.
The figure was screaming. Thrashing. Power radiating from them in waves that cracked the pavement and shattered windows in a cascading chain of destruction.
Their body was breaking apart. Skin splitting. Light pouring from the cracks.
Aki's breath caught.
That could be him. That would be him if he didn't figure out control.
The Order officers were shouting. Coordinating. Moving to contain the new threat with the same professional efficiency they'd used on him.
No one was looking at Aki anymore.
He could run. Right now. They were distracted. He could disappear into the manufacturing district. Hide. Figure it out himself. Stay free.
The choice took half a second.
Aki ran.
Not toward the officers. Not toward help.
Into the darkness. Into the manufacturing district. Into whatever came next.
His legs pumped. The gold scars on his arms blazed brighter with each step, responding to his heartbeat. Behind him, the other Forsaken's screaming reached a pitch that made his ears ring.
Then it stopped.
The explosion that followed lit up the entire street like a second sun. Heat washed over Aki's back. He didn't look. Didn't need to. He knew what that meant.
Just kept running.
The manufacturing district swallowed him whole. Dark buildings. Empty streets. Places to hide that he'd mapped out over years of walking because transport cost money.
Aki's breath came in ragged gasps. His ribs screamed. His legs felt like they might give out any second.
But he was free.
Free from the Order. Free from the system. Free from people who'd decided he was dangerous before he'd even done anything.
Just him and—
Something shifted inside him.
The heat under his skin spiked. Not from exertion. From something wrong.
Aki stumbled. Caught himself against a wall. His hand left a glowing print on the brick that faded slowly, like a brand.
The gold scars weren't just glowing anymore. They were pulsing. Irregular. Chaotic. Like his heartbeat had lost its rhythm and was just firing randomly.
"No—"
His breath came faster. The heat was building. Just like before. Just like the awakening.
But worse.
A memory surfaced. His mother in the hospital bed. Her hand in his. Soft and cold. But the image flickered. Distorted. Like he was watching it through broken glass that kept shattering into smaller pieces.
Another memory. The warehouse. Moving crates. But he couldn't remember why. Couldn't place it in sequence. The moment floated disconnected from everything else, unanchored.
The old woman in the alley. Had he helped her? The memory was scrambling. Rearranging itself. Maybe he had attacked her. Maybe the officers were right. Maybe—
No. No. He remembered. He knew what happened.
Didn't he?
"Fuck—"
Aki's legs gave out. He slid down the wall. Hit the ground hard.
His emotions were fragmenting. The rage that fueled his awakening was still there but now it tangled with fear and grief and something that felt like hunger but wasn't. All of it bleeding together until he couldn't tell where one ended and another began.
Who was making decisions anymore? Him or the power eating him from the inside?
Heat built higher. The gold scars were so bright they hurt to look at. Steam rose from his skin. The pavement beneath him cracked in a spiderweb pattern.
Just like the other Forsaken.
Just like the explosion he'd run from.
Aki's hands clawed at his chest. His emotion core wasn't just open. It was shattered. And all that power was leaking out, flooding his system, consuming him cell by cell.
He'd die here. Alone. Would explode just like that other Forsaken. Take out a building or two. Maybe kill some people who didn't deserve it.
The Academy. Training. Control. Maybe the officers had been telling the truth. Maybe he could have learned. Could have survived.
But he'd run. Because trust had never worked before. Because the system had never helped before.
And now he'd die because of it.
Aki's vision went white at the edges. The heat was unbearable. His skin was splitting. Light poured from the cracks like his body was cracking open to reveal something burning underneath.
Any second now.
At least it would be quick.
At least—
No.
The word cut through the pain. Through the fragmentation. Through everything.
No.
Not like this. Not dying in an alley because he was too fucking stubborn to accept help from people he hated.
His mother had died because the system failed her. Because people with power decided her life wasn't worth saving.
Aki was about to die because he'd refused to use that same system. Because pride mattered more than survival.
The irony was so sharp it hurt worse than the heat in his chest.
His hands pressed against the pavement. The cracked, glowing pavement beneath him. His arms shook. The gold scars were so bright they left afterimages when he blinked.
He had maybe minutes. Maybe less.
Die here. Alone. Forgotten. Another Forsaken who couldn't handle their awakening. Prove everyone right about pathless kids like him.
Or crawl back to the people who'd tried to kill him and beg for the help he'd just refused.
The choice should have been impossible.
But Aki had spent eighteen years making impossible choices. Work or eat. Rent or medicine. Survive one more day or give up.
This was just one more.
He pushed himself up. His legs wouldn't hold. Fine. He'd crawl.
The heat in his chest pulsed. His skin split further. Light poured from the cracks. Blood dripped from his nose. His mouth. Everywhere.
Aki dragged himself forward. One hand. Then the other. His legs scraped uselessly behind him, dead weight.
The alley was too long. The street too far. His body was coming apart faster than he could move.
He kept crawling.
A civilian saw him. Screamed. Ran. Aki didn't blame them. He probably looked like a corpse trying to dig itself out of its own grave.
Another person. They pulled out a phone. Probably calling the Order.
Good. That's what Aki needed.
His vision was fragmenting now. Not just his memories. His actual sight. Like looking through broken glass that kept shattering into smaller and smaller pieces.
But he could see the glow ahead. Red and blue lights. Order vehicles. Still at the scene of the explosion.
Aki crawled toward them.
An officer saw him. Raised a weapon. Aki didn't stop. Couldn't stop. If he stopped he'd die.
"Don't—" The word came out wrong. Slurred. His tongue wasn't working right. "Help—"
The officer's eyes widened. Recognition. "It's the runner! He's destabilizing!"
Good. They understood. They'd help. They had to help. The integration programs were real. They had to be real.
Please let them be real.
Aki's arms gave out. He hit the pavement face-first. Tasted blood and broken teeth.
Couldn't move anymore. Couldn't crawl. Could only lie there while his body tore itself apart from the inside.
Footsteps. Multiple. Surrounding him.
"Stabilize him!"
"He's too far gone—"
"Do it anyway! Forsaken Integration Act, Section Three—we're required to attempt stabilization even for runners!"
Hands on him. Cold. So cold it burned worse than the heat. Aki tried to scream but nothing came out.
The cold spread through his chest. Into his arms. His legs. Everywhere the heat had consumed him.
The two forces met. Clashed. Warred for control of his body.
Aki's back arched. Every muscle seized. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
Then the heat retreated.
Not gone. Not healed. But contained. Held in place by whatever the Order officers were doing.
The fragmentation in his mind slowed. Stopped. His vision cleared enough to see faces above him. Young. Scared. Professional.
"Status?"
"Stable. Barely. Core's still shattered but the immediate destabilization is contained."
"How long?"
"Twelve hours. Maybe less. He needs a Suppressor. Now."
Aki lay there. Breathing. Each breath agony. But breathing.
He'd made it. He'd crawled back to the people who'd tried to kill him. Had begged for help from the system he hated.
And they'd helped.
Because the integration was real. The Academy programs were real. Forsaken weren't just criminals anymore.
They were assets. Resources. Investments.
An officer leaned over him. Different from before. Older. More authority in his bearing, the kind of posture that came from years of making decisions about who lived and who didn't.
"You ran," the man said. Statement, not question.
Aki managed a nod. Barely.
"Then you came back."
Another nod.
"Why?"
Aki's voice was barely a whisper. Barely human. But the words came out clear enough.
"Want to live."
The officer studied him for a long moment. Then nodded, like Aki had passed some kind of test he hadn't known he was taking.
"Transport him to Dawnreach. Full containment protocol. He's a runner but he self-reported. Command will want to assess him personally." The officer stood. "And get his face covered. No photos. No records until Dawnreach clears him."
They moved him to a vehicle. Carefully. Like he might explode at any moment.
Which he might.
Aki stared at the ceiling of the transport. At the officers around him. At the cold still holding the heat in his chest at bay.
Dawnreach. The main headquarters of the Seriglia Order branch. Where the real power sat. Where decisions got made about who lived and who didn't.
He'd wanted power his whole life. Wanted to not be helpless anymore.
Now he had power. And it was killing him.
Dawnreach would stabilize him. Would decide if he was worth saving. Would determine whether he got training or containment or worse.
And Aki would let them. Would play whatever game they wanted. Would say whatever they needed to hear.
Not because he trusted them. Not because he believed in their integration programs.
But because the alternative was dying in an alley at eighteen years old, having accomplished nothing except proving the world right about pathless kids like him.
Fuck that.
If the system wanted to use him, fine. He'd use them right back.
He'd learn. He'd survive. He'd get strong enough that no one could ever take anything from him again.
And maybe, eventually, he'd figure out what to do with a power built entirely from rage at the people now trying to save his life.
The transport moved through the city. Aki could feel it climbing. Up toward the central district. Up toward where the wealthy lived. Where Dawnreach stood like a monument to everything he'd never been allowed to have.
The heat pulsed against the cold. Contained but not defeated.
Just like him.
Twelve hours until it broke free again. Twelve hours to reach Dawnreach. To face whatever judgment waited there.
Twelve hours to figure out how to survive in a world that had spent his entire life telling him he didn't matter.
Aki's hands clenched into fists. The gold scars glowed brighter for just a second before dimming again.
He'd survive. He'd learn.
And then he'd make them all regret ever underestimating him.
The transport disappeared into the night, climbing toward Dawnreach. Toward assessment. Toward whatever came next.