Metals clanked.
Engines roared from a distance.
The alley wasn't quiet anymore.
Damon stood there — still catching his breath, knuckles bruised, body tense.
The others arrived.
Thirty of them.
Maybe more.
The night felt heavier — darker.
Then they came.
"You're finished boy" said the man he sent flying to the bin.
He fled to an abandoned factory.
They followed.
Something twitched in him. He didn't blink. He didn't speak.
He just moved.
The first pipe swung at him— dodges. Damon caught his arm and slammed him into a wall.
The second came running. Bare handed— one kick to the head, lights out.
Each strike felt easier, sharper. Like his body already knew was to do.
He ducked, spun, elbowed, punched. No thought, just rhythm.
He wasn't fighting anymore. He was dominating.
Someone shouted. A biker revved his engine at Darian.
Damon turned his head slightly, eyes calm.
He sprinted — full speed — and leapt.
The world slowed for a second as his body shot forward in a straight line, foot connecting with the rider's chest.
The man flew off the bike.
Damon landed on it perfectly.
He didn't even know how.
He just did.
He tilted forward, twisting the throttle, wind tearing past his face.
A bullet flew past his head — then another.
Raised his bike up, motion with one tyre.
The sound was there… but they never met him.
He leaned to the side, the bullets cutting through empty air.
A big man stepped ahead. Shoulder broad, arms of steel.
Damon smirked while he sped up.
The giant roared. Lunged a plank at Damon.
Damon goes low, backflips off the bike. Catches plank and redirects towards the man.
The man grunts catching the bike after impact. The plank pierces the bike.
Laughing as he tosses it into OBSCURON Tower.
For half a second, nothing.
BOOM
The air itself punched him — Fire bloomed towards him. Red and gold. Damon felt his feet lift off the ground, body flung backward like a feather.
He hit the pavement hard — pain exploded through his ribs.
Lights out.
…
Muffled voices. Sirens. The crackle of fire.
His eyes snapped open. His ears rang — a high-pitched wiiiiiiiiiiiiiir that drowned out everything.
No time to think. No time to breathe.
Instinct — that's all he had left.
He rolled onto his side, coughing smoke, eyes burning. The orange glow painted the sky behind him — crushed machines, broken glass, and the smell of burnt oil.
Then he heard it — the cops shouting, firefighters yelling orders.
They were close. Too close.
His body moved before his mind could.
One deep breath, a glance at the chaos — and he ran.
Fast.
The kind of fast that didn't feel human.
He looked back.
The alley burned orange.
The smell of metal and fire.
"What… have I done?" he whispered, voice trembling.
He ran. Again.
He didn't stop until the city lights blurred.
By the time he reached home, his lungs were on fire.
His father sat slumped in the living room, bottle half-empty.
"You're late," he slurred.
"I—"
The slap came fast.
Damon caught it. A reflex- they're both surprised.
For a second, neither of them moved.
"You're a man now, huh?" he mumbled. "Where's your damn ring—"
He stumbled, missed the chair, fell into it instead.
Out cold.
Damon headed upstairs.
Stopped at the steps.
Then crouched. Jumped.
Almost to the top in one move.
He stood there.
Half-afraid. Half in shock. Smiling just a little.
"What's happening to me?"
Morning.
Saturday.
The streets buzzed.
He jogged past a crowd gathered around a taped-off area.
Reporters. Cameras. Police.
"…Fifty-four dead, three survivors," one reporter said. "Police confirm it was caused by an explosion in the old district last night. Three witnesses describe a boy in his late teens—"
Damon's stomach turned.
A man in a lab coat pushed through, furious.
"You idiots! Those punks were test subjects?! Do you have any idea what you've destroyed?!"
One officer stepped forward. "Sir, calm down—"
"Calm down?!" the man shouted. "That was forty million yen! And it was just the prototype!"
A forensic scientist nearby said quietly, "Initial reports suggest the blast started when a motorcycle hit the building. A chain reaction followed. One of the test machines… was vaporized."
The scientist turned, wiping sweat off his brow. "Honestly, we're lucky it was only partial detonation."
The lab coat guy looked ready to explode again. "Partial? That was revolutionary tech! And you're saying it got wiped out by some drunk bikers?!"
No one replied.
He kicked a broken crate in frustration.
Darian took a step back.
The cop noticed him.
"Hey, kid — scram."
He did. Fast.
"Yo!"
Damon turned.
"Daiki?" he asked with suprise.
Same easy grin, short curls, confidence written on his face.
"Man, I thought you were in the States."
"Was," Daiki said, adjusting his bag. "My dad works with the guys who built that generator that blew up. Had to fly back and rebuild it."
Darian froze. "…That generator?"
"Yeah. Sucks, huh?"
"Yeah…" he said, voice low.
"Hows your mom man? Does she make those fire Tonkatsu's" Daiki asked-joy printed on his forehead.
Damon explains. Daiki went quiet. "Damn. I'm sorry, man."
"Yeah."
Daiki grinned. "You look good. You even got taller, man."
They promised to meet later. Fist-bumped and split paths.
Later that day, he found himself at Natsuki's house.
Her mom smiled wide. "Oh? A handsome boy's here for you, Natsuki!"
"Tell Pike I'm not interested!"
"He says he's Damon."
Footsteps.
Then she appeared — hair tied, casual clothes, same eyes.
He looked… different.
Sharper. Healthier.
No shadows under his eyes.
"You look different," she said.
"Less zombie-ish?"
"Barely."
They walked to the park. He kicked rocks.
"About the other day," he said. "I'm sorry."
"It's fine," she said. "Kinda used to your crappy apologies."
He chuckles. "No need to be mean"
"No need to be a baby"
He pointed at the basketball court.
"Bet I can beat the best baller at Southmere."
"You don't even play basketball." she said raising an eyebrow.
He passed her the ball. "Watch and learn tiger"
"Ohhh okay don't cry you baby"
"Fine then. First to twenty"
"You're on" she says determined.
The game started light — playful — then turned real.
She dribbled, crossed, scored.
He stole, dodged, leaped — scored back.
When he jumped, his shirt lifted slightly — her eyes caught on his stomach.
"Damon… has abs?" she whispered under her breath. He landed, spinning the ball in his hands.
"Since when do you have abs?"
"Jealous?" he says with a mocking face.
Throws her rhythm off.
"Twenty-six to eighteen," he said. "Guess I win."
She sat, catching her breath. "You've been hiding that from me dude?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you" "Try me"
"So you're telling me, your dads ring gave you abs? And you destroyed Dr Maniac's generator" she asks in disbelief.
"I know its hard to bel— " "Hard is an understatement" "Why don't you prove it to me" she asks standing in front of him. He noticed the way her shorts hugged her legs — then looked away fast."
"Look at me will ya"
Her palm comes up — not just a finger, but her whole hand — resting lightly under his chin, guiding his face up until their eyes meet.
For a moment, the air freezes.- in Damon's mind.
His eyes widen, a hint of surprise in them. "Wha— what is she doing?!" he thought.
Her gaze sharpens.
"If you're really as strong as you say…" she smirks, "prove it. Bleep test. Now."
He groaned. "You suck."
"Run, hero. Like its your last."
He smirked, stretched, and took off — dust rising behind him as she watched, stopwatch in hand, pretending not to be impressed.
And when he hit the final beep, chest heaving, she smiled — small, proud, and maybe a little scared.
"How'd I do?" he asks as they both sat. "You impressed me but I've seen better"
Their eyes met.
Closer.
Breath shorter.
But neither moved.
Just the wind between them.
Just that unspoken thing — waiting. He didn't know what was next but for now this was enough.