Authentic Tacos, just off Lawrenceville Highway. The Georgia sun is beginning its slow, dramatic fade, casting long shadows of orange and violet across the parking lot.
A figure stood on the sidewalk, the flickering neon sign of the taco shop reflecting in his eyes.
It was a teenage boy—but one who commanded attention. His long, jet-black hair fell like a heavy silk curtain down his back, framing a face dominated by piercing, fiery red eyes that seemed to hold an inner, almost unnatural light.
His outfit was a rebellious blend of sleek combat gear and street fashion: a black, form-fitting jacket with white straps coiling tightly around both sleeves, matching black pants, and sturdy, tactical boots. Most striking of all was a demonic wing-like tattoo that started above his brow and stretched, dark and intricate, down to his chin.
The boy, Zuko, stopped, savoring the moment.
"Hah. I'm finally here. What a ridiculous walk," Zuko muttered, a crazy, wide smile splitting his face. "So lame."
He tried to walk in, hands shoved deep into his pockets, but his carelessness led him straight into a solid wall of muscle. He bumped hard into a much taller boy.
Holy sh*t. He's absolutely ripped, Zuko thought, his mental assessment sharp and immediate. The sheer muscle mass was incredible, noticeable even through the guy's clothes.
The taller boy, Dom, reacted instantly. "Huh? Sorry, I didn't see you," Dom said, a genuine smile replacing his surprised look.
He extended a large, calloused hand toward Zuko.
"I don't need your help," Zuko spat, the smile gone, his voice sharp. He smacked Dom's hand away with a dismissive swipe and leveraged himself up from the ground, brushing imaginary dust off his expensive jacket.
A woman's voice cut through the tension.
"Dom! The food is in the car—oh, who is this?" Rae walked over, her expression a mix of gentle impatience and curiosity as she took in Zuko.
"Just someone I bumped into," Dom replied simply, shrugging.
"Oh. Well, come on, sweetie, it's time to go," Rae said, her eyes briefly scanning Zuko's intense features. "And… nice to meet you, kid."
Zuko ignored her. He simply adjusted his jacket and walked straight past them, into the deliciously scented chaos of the taco shop.
Rae watched him go. "He seems… well, he seems intense," she murmured to Dom as they turned toward their car.
Then, she paused. "And his tattoo. It kind of looks like yours, Dom, just… more bat-like, maybe? Yours is definitely an angel's wing."
Dom ran a finger over the smooth, unblemished skin where his own power signature rested. "You think so?"
"Yes. Now, let's go. Those carne asada tacos are calling my name."
They got into the car and drove away. As they merged into the traffic on Lawrenceville Highway, Dom kept glancing in the rearview mirror, a thoughtful furrow in his brow.
"I wonder what power he has," Dom said, his voice low. "Is it like mine? Or is it something… different?"
Rae chuckled, keeping her eyes on the road. "I wonder, too! If it's anything like yours, I'd be calling him into the Academy so fast. He looks exactly the same age as you."
Dom gave a slight, surprised laugh. "Yeah, he did, didn't he."
Inside the shop, Zuko was already settled at a booth. He was deep into his phone, utterly absorbed in a mobile game—Roblox: Zombie Kill Zone—a chilling, evil smile playing across his lips as his character brutally eliminated hordes of the undead.
A girl approached his table, carrying a tray. She was wearing the standard work uniform.
Des had light, pale skin and striking, large eyes that appeared a light pink or purple, emphasized by bold pink eyeliner. Her most notable feature was a heart-shaped tattoo covering her left eye. Her hair was very long, blonde, and styled in voluminous, wavy twintails secured by black and pink bows, with a peculiar pink smoke or energy gently rising from the ribbons. She wore a small, black beret.
"Your food is ready," she said softly.
Zuko looked up. "Finally. It's ready."
He took a massive, satisfied bite of his taco. "This food is so good," he declared, the satisfied, beatific smile returning.
Des blushed slightly, thinking, Wow, he looks kind of cute when he smiles.
"Hey, girl who can cook," Zuko called out. "What's your name?"
"My name is Des," she replied shyly.
"Well, Des, you can cook good," Zuko stated.
"Th-thanks," Des stammered, then quickly scurried away.
Zuko went in for another bite, but a sudden influx of loud patrons broke his focus. They were boisterous, laughing too loudly, and they settled into the booth right next to him.
"Shut up," Zuko growled, louder than necessary.
The largest of the men turned, a sneer on his face. "Oh yeah? Make us."
Zuko didn't hesitate. He shot out his hand, grabbing the man's forearm. The man had a small, fresh cut—a tiny nick from an earlier workplace accident—just visible beneath his cuff.
Zuko was instantly using Vitality Theft (Drain by Scratch). His unique power allowed him to drain life force, stamina, and energy, with the amount stolen scaling directly with the severity of the wound. The smallest scratch was a perfect vector for his gruesome feeding. His own strength, speed, and durability increased dramatically with every intake.
The man's eyes went wide, his skin suddenly appearing paper-thin and grey. His mouth opened in a silent scream.
Then, with a sickening squelch, Zuko produced a sharp, crimson-red Blood Bludgeon Knife right next to the man's throat.
The sight sent the other patrons into a panicked frenzy. Everyone tried to flee the shop at once.
Zuko started laughing—a chilling, echoing, evil sound—as he began eliminating everyone in the restaurant. The air filled with screams and the metallic scent of blood.
He paused his rampage to look at Des, who was frozen behind the counter, shaking.
"Thanks for the good food," Zuko said, still smiling, taking a bite of his taco and calmly drinking the remaining bloodfrom a victim's neck.
"Bye, girl who can cook good."
Then, he vanished into the night.
Across town, in a brightly lit gym, a tall boy was engaged in an intense workout.
Dom's dark, curly hair was short and faded on the sides. His expression was serious and focused as he hammered a heavy bag. He wore a tight, black t-shirt that showed off his powerful musculature—a prominent six-pack, defined obliques, and broad shoulders. His forearms, visible beneath his short sleeves, were tightly wrapped in white bandages. His wide-legged, light grey trousers, secured by a dark blue sash, gave his movement a martial, graceful look.
The door opened, and Rae walked in, turning on the main lights.
"I don't know how you can even see in here, Dom," she said, chuckling.
Dom smiled at her. "Wassup, Rae."
"I have to go to work," Rae said, her expression suddenly tightening. "Requiem is at it again."
"Huh? What?" Dom looked over. All Rae had done was walk to a small table, grab a remote, and turn the TV channel to the local news.
A news anchor was reporting: "Requiem strikes again. Twelve confirmed dead, one severe injury—a girl named Des. Authorities believe this is connected to the earlier reports of mass draining near the highway."
Dom stared at the screen, stunned. "WTF. We were just there."
"And Des," Rae added grimly. "She's in your class, Dom. I have to go make sure she's okay."
"That girl is in my class?"
"Yes, I believe she left the Academy because of her power, but she was in the same grade as you," Rae explained, pulling her coat on. "Well, I've got to go."
Across town, in a brightly lit gym, a tall boy was engaged in an intense workout.
Dom's dark, curly hair was short and faded on the sides. His expression was serious and focused as he hammered a heavy bag. He wore a tight, black t-shirt that showed off his powerful musculature—a prominent six-pack, defined obliques, and broad shoulders. His forearms, visible beneath his short sleeves, were tightly wrapped in white bandages. His wide-legged, light grey trousers, secured by a dark blue sash, gave his movement a martial, graceful look.
The door opened, and Rae walked in, turning on the main lights.
"I don't know how you can even see in here, Dom," she said, chuckling.
Dom smiled at her. "Wassup, Rae."
"I have to go to work," Rae said, her expression suddenly tightening. "Requiem is at it again."
"Huh? What?" Dom looked over. All Rae had done was walk to a small table, grab a remote, and turn the TV channel to the local news.
A news anchor was reporting: "Requiem strikes again. Twelve confirmed dead, one severe injury—a girl named Des. Authorities believe this is connected to the earlier reports of mass draining near the highway."
Dom stared at the screen, stunned. "WTF. We were just there."
"And Des," Rae added grimly. "She's in your class, Dom. I have to go make sure she's okay."
"That girl is in my class?"
"Yes, I believe she survived because of her power, but she is in the same grade as you," Rae explained, pulling her coat on. "Well, I've got to go."
At Des's house, Rae and a young man arrived at the door.
Des opened it, looking weak and pale, but her large eyes widened in recognition. "Oh, you're the Principal, Ms. Silent Queen of NHS, and… you're Echo!" she said, recognizing the city's top-ranked heroes.
"Just call me Rae," the principal said kindly. "And Echo, just call him Josh."
"Welcome in, Rae and Josh."
Des's parents called from the living room. "Des, who is it?"
"My principal and Echo!"
Her parents rushed out, excited. "Hey, Mr. Echo and Silent Queen! We are big fans!" they greeted the heroes warmly.
Des's parents looked at Rae and Josh expectantly. "Why are you guys here?"
"It's because we heard your daughter ran into a documented, upcoming Top 50 Villain known as Requiem," Rae stated, her voice professional and serious. "We came to ask her some questions."
Des's parents gasped. "Oh, yes, she did run into him!"
They sat down, and Des's mother instantly offered, "You guys want some snacks or something to drink?"
"I'm fine, thank you," Rae said.
Josh grinned. "Yeah, I'd love some chips and water, please!"
"Okay, Des," Rae said, pulling out a notepad. "What did he look like?"
Des's heart hammered as she recounted the image. "Well, he was a teenage boy with long, jet-black hair cascading down his back, and those piercing red eyes that seemed to glow with an inner fire. His attire was sleek, black combat gear and street fashion. He had that tattoo—demonic wings—stretching from his forehead down to his chin. And his body was… kind of lean, almost gaunt, but athletic. He always seemed to be slouching, which made him look shorter. I think he was about 5'5"."
Des finished the description with a blush on her face.
Rae's pen scratched against the paper, then stopped. She looked up, her expression hardening. "Hold up. I think I know who you're talking about. I ran into him when I was leaving the taco spot."
"What was his power?" Des's mother asked, a scary intensity in her voice. He looked the same age as Dom, Rae thought, keeping her thoughts internal.
"Well, he had some kind of blood weapon, like a knife made of pure crimson," Des explained. "And it looked like he drained people out of their souls—just by a touch, like their life force left their body."
Josh and Rae exchanged a look of deep concern. That is a terrifying power.
"Well, thank you for your help, Des," Rae said, standing up. "I will see you back at the Academy in a week. Get some rest."
"Bye, Des," Josh added.
As they walked out and got into the car, Josh turned to Rae. "His power looks terrifying. I wonder how old he is. He must be at least twenty-three or something. He seemed skilled."
Rae didn't look at him. Her face was set in a mask of fear and worry. "No. He is the same age as your students, Josh."
Josh stared at her, shock flooding his features. "No way! If he is only FOURTEEN…" he trailed off, horrified. "No way."
"Yes, way," Rae said softly. "I ran into him before. He looks the same age as Dom. I'm going to go home. You do the same."
"But, Ms. Rae," Josh pleaded. "If he is left alone, he can become even more dangerous!"
"I know," Rae said, pulling over to drop him off. "Just go home, Josh."
Rae drove home, exhausted. She got into her bed, unable to sleep. I need to try to help that kid, she thought, staring at the ceiling. He reminds me of Dom when I first met him. And...
She started to cry silently, a memory of her own troubled past washing over her.