He dropped to his knees beside her.
His mother was curled against the mattress, one arm cradling her stomach where the fabric was soaked through. Her breath rattled in her throat like paper tearing.
"Mama, no, no, no!!" His hands hovered, unsure where to touch, afraid that he might make it worse. "I'm here. I'm here, I made it back., I'm sorry I got here late"
Her eyes fluttered open.
And for a second, just one, she smiled weakly.
"Jax…" Her voice was barely more than a whisper. "My boy… my little flame…"
He swallowed, hard. "Who did this to you?"
Her fingers twitched, weakly gripping his sleeve. "Men… with the brand. Mordrek's snakes. They came… they said you stole something. They wanted to use me to find whatever it was…"
Jax's gut twisted. His whole body trembled with rage and guilt, he had brought this on.
"I should've come home," he choked out. "I should've come here. I didn't think… I didn't know they would…"
She reached up and cupped his cheek, her touch feather-light, barely there. "No, Jax… You've always tried to protect me. You've done more than any son ever should. But listen to me now, listen. You need to go. Far from here."
He shook his head. "I'm not leaving you."
"You have to." Her tone sharpened, edged with urgency. "Whatever you took… it's not just some trinket, is it?"
He hesitated.
Her eyes narrowed. Even bleeding out, she was sharp.
"No," he said softly. "I don't know what it is. But it changed me. They shot me, Mama. I died. But… something brought me back."
She stared at him in wonder and fear. "Then it's already inside you."
His breath caught. "How do you…?"
"I felt it the moment you walked in," she whispered. "You're humming, Jax. Like the old wires in the walls. You're not normal anymore."
He didn't know what to say to that.
She coughed, hard. Blood painted her lips.
"Mama, please, stay with me. I'll go get Anise."
"No." Her grip tightened for a second, her voice turning fierce. "You listen, boy. You've been given something rare. Something dangerous. You can't stay in the Warrens. They'll keep coming. They'll never stop."
He pressed his forehead against hers. "I don't care. I'll fight them all."
"No, Jax… promise me. Live. Go past the border. Find something better than this life. Be more than dirt."
Her breathing was shallow now.
"I can't Mama, please—"
She smiled. "You always were the stubborn one. Just like your father…"
He froze. "What?"
His mother never spoke about his father, he knew nothing about him.
But her hand slipped away from his cheek, falling limp against the bed.
"Mama…?"
No answer.
The light in her eyes seemed to flicker once.
And that was the last time.
He stayed there for a long time.
Holding her.
Rocking her gently as if that could undo what had happened.
As if enough love could restart her heart.
But the world didn't work like that.
Not for them.
Not for dirt.
By evening, the sky outside was bruised and red. The acid rain had stopped. People were burning trash to stay warm, casting flickering shadows through the slum.
Jax packed his bag with trembling hands.
He didn't know where he was going.
But he knew he couldn't stay.
Not now.
Not after this.
He wrapped his mother's scarf around his neck and took one last look at the only home he'd ever known.
Then he stepped into the dark.
And didn't look back.
*
The smell of blood and sulfur hung thick in the air.
The iron door to Mordrek's chamber slammed open, and the gang lord turned with slow, deliberate menace. His silhouette loomed tall against the flickering lights of the underground bunker, like half man, half nightmare in an oil-slicked coat. His cybernetic eye pulsed red as the three men entered, dragging mud and panic behind them.
The box was in Deek's hands.
It was empty.
Mordrek said nothing at first. He just stood there. Watching.
Then he stepped down from the dais, boots thudding against steel, one by one.
Deek's mouth opened. "We tried…"
A gunshot cracked the silence.
One of the men, Kriv, fell to the ground in a twitching heap, a hole smoking through his skull.
The box hit the ground with a dull clunk.
"Why don't you try again," Mordrek said, voice low and glacial.
Deek flinched, but he forced the words out. "W-we found the kid, boss. He was hiding in the Old Quarters. We shook him down, just like you said. He buried the box. We got it. But when we opened it… it was just gone."
Mordrek stared.
"You expect me to believe," he said slowly, "that you killed a sixteen-year-old street rat, took the box from his hands, and somehow lost the one thing I told you was worth your lives?"
Deek swallowed. "I swear, boss… he didn't have it on him. We stripped him. We checked. No tricks."
"No tricks…" Mordrek murmured. "And yet… no artifact."
The third man, a wiry scout named Lano, stepped forward. "He's probably got someone working with him. Maybe stashed it somewhere else before we got to him."
Mordrek looked at Lano.
Then he smiled.
And shot him in the kneecap.
Lano went down screaming.
"Wrong answer," Mordrek said, stepping closer. "Because you just told me you checked everywhere. And I don't think you're smart enough to lie that fast."
Blood pooled on the floor as Lano whimpered and clawed at his ruined leg.
Mordrek leaned in, eye gleaming like a predator.
"You idiots had one job. Bring me the box, and the kid who stole it. Now I've got a box full of nothing and no corpse to prove he's dead. You think I can hand this to my buyers and say, 'Oops, the boy shoved it up his ass and made it disappear?'"
Deek paled.
Mordrek straightened and pulled a wicked knife from the folds of his coat, its blade curved like a fang.
"I don't care if he's dead. I don't care if he's crawling with worms. You find that artifact, or I'll open you up like a pig and wear your intestines as a belt."
He turned to Lano. "And you? You better pray I never see your limp again."
Mordrek walked back to his chair, taking the empty box with him.
His voice echoed behind them as they scrambled to leave.
"Find the boy. Find the artifact. Or find me a corpse."