The rain was intense and relentless in the city of "Vulmori". Thunder echoed throughout the city. The silence that lingered wasn't just silence... it was the silence of fear—fear of the political power ruling the city with a heavy and ruthless hand, neglecting the poor while the rich gained more and wielded greater social power.
A world where "Supers" (people born with superhuman abilities) were no longer even considered part of the social hierarchy. They were outcasts, marginalized for a past marked by sadism, cruelty, and arrogance. When" Michael Giggs", the Governor of Vulmori, seized total power, he did so by manipulating local authorities like mayors, judges, and commissioners. He turned Vulmori into a slaughterhouse for drug trafficking, distributing substances to his suppliers to gain greater social influence. Slowly, he transformed the system to serve his own interests.
Under the rain, Connor Smith walked in old, worn-out clothes—a torn leather jacket, black gloves, and faded jeans—to stay hidden in public. Connor was a Super, and his daily life depended on anonymity and covering up his body. Being a Super wasn't something easily identified unless one bore physical marks or showed signs of power.
Connor arrived at an old tattoo shop called Black Ink. He unlocked the door with his keys, lowered the steel shutters behind him, shutting out the street. As he slowly removed his soaked outerwear, he spoke:
> "Damn, it was about time. Home sweet home,"
he said, looking behind the counter and shouting to call his brother.
"Nicola! It's me! I'm back!"
he announced with a small smile of relief.
From behind the counter, a door opened and Nicola Smith, Connor's brother, appeared, speaking in an annoyed yet mocking tone:
> "Shit, Connor, you took like a damn century! I already became a grandpa and had two kids!"
Connor rolled his eyes playfully.
> "Uh-huh, yeah. I just hope you gave me some decent nieces or nephews, and I still can't understand how they put up with such a dumbass father."
Nicola laughed, joined by Connor, and the two went into the back room, a small living space inside the tattoo shop. They spent hours catching up, talking about life and their past while eating and drinking.
While stirring his stew, Nicola noticed Connor speaking:
> "You didn't touch your plate. If you're not hungry, I'll eat it."
he joked while taking another bite.
Nicola sighed and looked at Connor, thoughtful.
> "You know, Connor... I didn't think you'd come back. With Michael Giggs in control of the city... you're an illegal, Connor. Why did you return?"
Connor sighed, setting his plate aside to speak sincerely.
> "Don't kid yourself. I didn't think I'd come back either...But I couldn't leave you alone in a dump like this."
Nicola looked at him with understanding and smiled.
> "After what happened with Mom..."
Connor quickly cut in, clearly avoiding the subject.
> "How's Dad?"
Nicola understood and simply sighed before answering:
> "Not good. His cancer's progressed quickly and we don't have enough money. This tattoo shop barely sees any business. Just some lowlifes wanting a stupid cobra on their backs and paying pennies...I don't know how we're going to make it out of this."
The silence was broken by the radio playing "How Deep Is Your Love" by the Bee Gees, until Connor finally spoke:
> "Dad and I... we don't get along. After he found out I was a Super, he didn't even look me in the eye. He blames me for what happened with Mom, But I don't blame him. I'm an abomination...and I need to help him now."
Nicola, feeling the weight of Connor's emotional burden, leaned across the table and placed a hand on his shoulder.
> "Hey, you're not an abomination, brother. Being what you are doesn't define who you are .You're so much more, Connor and I know you'll help us get Dad through this."
Connor smiled and took a sip of his beer.
> "Thanks, Nicola..."
In a wealthier, distant part of the city, inside a heavily guarded mansion, sat a well-dressed, elegant man in a white tuxedo. He was Michael Giggs, as stated on the Governor's nameplate on his desk. On his left, he reviewed financial records and cash increases thanks to the illegal drug trade he ran in the slums of Vulmori.
His landline rang on the right side of the desk. Michael picked up and answered in a calm, elegant tone:
> "Governor Michael Giggs speaking.
Who is this?"
A deep, hoarse, tired voice replied:
> "It's Trevor, Michael."
Michael fell silent for a few seconds, then responded with a more menacing tone:
> "Is it done?"
The man, now known as Trevor, answered more calmly:
> "The drugs have been delivered to the Rolester family...Believe me, tonight Sector 9 belongs to you, Giggs."
Michael snapped back, now irritated and tense:
> "I don't want you to promise me anything, Trevor! JUST DO IT!, Or your daughter will pay for your mistakes..."
he sighed, composing himself
"Finish the damn job, Trevor... No witnesses."
He hung up, adjusted his tie, and ran a hand through his hair with a tired sigh.
In the intense rain that lit the night with flashes of lightning, the Smith brothers walked the empty streets of Vulmori, heading to the hospital to visit their father.
Connor, still hidden beneath his worn clothes, listened as Nicola spoke:
> "You know... I've been thinking... I'm going to give up the tattoo shop, to pay for Dad's treatment."
Connor was surprised. The shop held deep sentimental value. He replied proudly:
> "I'm proud of you for that, Nicola... really."
Their conversation was cut short when they took a shortcut to the hospital and stumbled upon a tall man in his mid-thirties, balding, handing drugs to a city politician.
Both brothers froze in place. The man quickly drew a gun and shot Nicola in the stomach before fleeing with the politician.
Connor didn't even have time to react or use his powers to protect his brother. He dropped to his knees beside him.
> "NICOLA, NOOO!"
he shouted, cradling his brother
"HELP! PLEASE, SOMEBODY!!"
he screamed into the alley, holding Nicola as tears ran down his face.
Nicola laid on the ground, staring at his wound.
> "Shit..."
he groaned, clutching the bullet wound.
Connor was in shock, unable to respond. Minutes later, an ambulance arrived. As they placed Nicola on a stretcher, Connor grabbed his hand.
> "Everything's gonna be okay, brother... hold on."
The medics pulled Connor back.
"HE'S MY BROTHER!"
he shouted, as the ambulance drove off, leaving Connor alone in the filthy alley, walking in the rain toward the hospital—shocked and guilt-ridden.
Back in Giggs' mansion, he received a call. He answered—it was Trevor.
> "Something went wrong. One man's critically injured...But the goods were delivered."
Michael responded coldly:
> "You'd better pray that witness dies..If he doesn't, you take care of him. Kill him."
He hung up and walked to the large window of his office, watching the rain slide down the glass, falling steadily into the dark night.