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I helped someone, and life showed me a big middle finger.
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It was afternoon, the bright sunlight shining as usual. Students were chatting away in class while I tapped absentmindedly on my phone. It was break, so there wasn't any teacher in sight. Most of the students were discussing the usual teenage nonsense.
At the back of the room was a familiar sight—a group of five students bullying a classmate. This had been going on ever since he started attending this school. Humans don't do well when paired with Enerions. The kid was an Enerion, but of weak prowess, which gave the students something to vent on.
I never involved myself directly. My mom had always told me to keep my calm and never use force on a normal human. While she said I shouldn't interfere, there were ways to help. Reporting it to the school authorities was one of them, and that's exactly what I did, without getting personally involved.
The leader of the group, though, had a different situation. His father was an official, and paying off the school was no trouble for him. The boy was only slapped on the wrist for his actions. And he didn't let it go. He was furious that I'd reported him. That anger led to him dumping a bucket of water on the boy's head this morning. Since the school was paid off, it didn't matter that the student was soaked.
This was getting annoying.
Standing up, I turned to face him. "Would you stop? You're pouring water on the floor."
The students paused, the leader looking at me, shocked.
"You talking to me?" he sneered.
"Stop it. It's annoying," I said, maintaining a calm tone.
He tilted his head, trying to figure me out. "Do you know who my father is?"
"I don't care. Your childish behavior is disturbing. Stop it."
I should've cared, but I didn't.
"Oh? And what would you do about that, huh?" His voice was dripping with intimidation as he put his hand on my shoulder.
"Do not touch me," I said, my voice cold.
The entire class had cleared out, watching from the sidelines as the five students surrounded me. My tone was off-putting enough that he flinched slightly.
In a burst of anger, he threw a punch, landing square on my jaw.
I didn't feel it.
"You hit first," I muttered, and I sent my knee into his stomach.
One of the others grabbed a chair and swung it at my back. It broke on impact.
"What the—"
The realization hit him.
"You aren't human?" Fear crept into his voice.
"I find that mildly amusing," I said, a smile curling on my lips.
We ended up in the principal's office. He got off with a slap on the wrist, and I was expelled. It wasn't much of a trade-off, but I broke his face by smashing it into a wall a few times.
Seemed decent enough to me. Amusing, if I must.
His dad, however, didn't find it amusing. He hired two hunters to kill my mom. I know it was him because they said his name.
I killed them though.
Arrested and charged.
It could be regarded as self defence ,but he had his claws there too.
I had to survive, on blood .
No one cared what happened to the prisoners.
And I got smuggled out to that facility.
●●●●●●●
Neto looked up at the sky,
"I've felt so much pain that I became numb to it."
For a moment, the silence held between them. Then Zuri spoke, her voice low—almost detached.
"My dad died when I was eight. There was nothing left of him to bury. Just… smoke and rumors of his death."
She stared at the skyline, but her eyes weren't seeing the city. They were seeing something else—something buried deep.
"After that, it was just me and my mom. We barely scraped enough to eat every day. She tried, I think… but I had taken too much from her. I was like a parasite. A reminder of everything she lost."
Her voice tightened.
"Then she heard about the mutant experiments. They offered money in exchange for subjects. She didn't care if it was real, didn't even ask questions. Just signed the papers."
Zuri drew in a shaky breath, the cool air catching in her throat.
"I remember how she looked at me that morning. Not angry. Not sad. Just… empty. Like she'd already let go of me. Like she'd decided I was the price she'd pay to feel something again."
Neto didn't interrupt. He just watched her, his usual cold gaze softening.
"It was all for nothing," she whispered. "The money didn't help. She hung herself two weeks later."
For the first time since they met, Neto saw something different in her—beneath the calm strength and teasing charm, he saw it.
Pain.
Fear.
Anger.
He looked at her for a long time before speaking, his voice quiet.
"How do you suppress that… and still smile like you're okay?"
Zuri blinked, and a humorless smile curved her lips.
She didn't answer right away.
The wind played with her hair as her eyes drifted upward, lost in some distant place.
"I don't suppress it," she finally said, her voice calm but firm. "It's something that would provoke a reaction if I sat and talked about it for hours, sure. But I've actually grown past it."
She glanced at him, her eyes clearer than he'd ever seen them.
"I smile because—before the tragedy—my life was full of joy. Laughter. Warmth. Memories that made me who I am."
A faint smile tugged at her lips, but this one wasn't for show. It was real. Earned.
"I won't let sadness erase happiness. The pain is there, but it doesn't define me. Not anymore.
I choose to feel joy, even when there's no reason to.
I create my own light."
"Hm"
Neto uttered, a breath of comprehension escaping him.
His head pounded again—sharper this time—dizziness sweeping over him like a crashing tide. But he held on for just a moment longer.
"Zuri," he said, voice unsteady.
She turned to face him fully, their eyes locking.
In that instant, everything else faded—the rooftop, the city hum, the night sky. Just the two of them.
"You seem fun," he murmured, a faint, lopsided smile forming. "I like you."
And then—
His body gave out. The strength left his legs, and he collapsed, crumpling to the ground.
"Neto!" Zuri's voice cracked the stillness.
She surged forward, catching him mid-fall. His body was heavier than she expected, limp and cold against her arms.
Panic flickered in her chest as she eased him down gently, her fingers brushing his face.
"Hey—hey, stay with me," she whispered, her voice trembling now.
His eyes fluttered, unfocused, and his smile lingered faintly, like a ghost of a moment too fragile to last.
"You idiot," she muttered, holding him close, "you can't just say things like that and pass out."
●●●●●●●
Neto's eyes snapped open.
The world around him was nothing but a storm—a torrential downpour that blurred the lines between earth and sky. The air felt heavy, thick with an unseen weight, as if everything were on the verge of breaking apart.
Before him, a figure stood, sword in hand. The figure's posture was rigid, focused—no trace of hesitation or fear. The blade gleamed with an ominous shine, but it wasn't the sword that caught Neto's attention. It was the face. A face he knew all too well, but twisted, aged, darkened by something unfamiliar.
The figure swung the sword at him with practiced precision, but Neto dodged the strike, his instincts kicking in. The combat was fast, dangerous, but he couldn't shake the feeling that this battle wasn't real. He had to know who this was.
Then, in a moment of clarity, he froze as the figure mirrored his movements, almost as if it was a reflection. The sword held steady in its hand, unwavering.
And then...
The other Neto spoke, his voice cold, echoing across the silence of the rain-soaked world.
"I see you."
The words sent a chill down Neto's spine. This wasn't just a fight. This was a confrontation with himself—something deeper, more primal than he could understand.
Neto swallowed hard, his chest tight as he looked into the eyes of his reflection. The realization hit him like a punch.
"You are me."
The storm around them roared louder, the air thick with static as the ground trembled beneath them. A ripple of energy passed through him, something ancient, something that felt like it belonged to the very core of existence.
The figure—the other version of him—said nothing more. Instead, he lifted his hand, and Neto followed the gesture, his body moving as if he were bound by invisible strings. He turned, and in the distance, there stood a shadow, a figure he couldn't quite make out but was somehow drawn to.
And then, in a voice that sounded like it came from the very essence of time itself, a name echoed through the abyss:
"ADAM."
Everything shattered in an instant—the air, the ground, the world itself splintered like glass. The vision cracked, and Neto was left in the void, breathless, heart pounding in the sudden silence.