Gabriel didn’t remember when he’d started running, but he was already most of the way down the block, August close on his heels.

“What did they see? How many were there?” August asked from behind him, sounding just this side of breathless.

“I’m not sure,” Gabe answered, skidding to a stop to check either side of the street. He saw the bright streak of a simmering fire on the right and took off again. “Dad thought he saw two shadows in an alleyway. But no one was using an attribute, it just seemed…off.”

“Gabriel!” His dad’s voice was strained but calm. He was still beside their car, kneeling with a bunched jacket held against his abdomen. Gabe fought down the spike of panic when he saw the bloody pool at his father’s feet. “Call Jean, they’re—” 

“Dad! Gabe!” His brother sounded strangled. He was sweating profusely, hands raised in front of him, stiff and trembling. It looked like the figures were slowly advancing, backlit by the very same simmering fire he seen a block away. “I can’t hold them. There are too many, I was only able to graze a few.”

“Go,” August said softly. Gabriel watched as four concrete barriers nimbly dodged his family, stacking one on top of the other between Dexter and a group of shadowy enemies. Dex began panting, backing up. August met Gabe's eyes. “I’ll protect them and begin the evacuation. Your dad’s injured. They must be serious if they got him.”

“Your family…” 

August gave a curt shake of his head. “Is safe back at the restaurant. They know better than to follow me, especially as civilians. It’s an emergency, we’re authorized. Go.”

Gabriel didn’t need to be told twice. 

He sped past his dad and brother, hooking his fingers around the corner of the concrete barrier closest to him and launching himself up and over the makeshift wall.

Gabe landed on his feet, eyes fierce and focused. In front of him were a half dozen figures, bathed in inky shadows. He could feel an almost otherworldly sense of looming dread. They paused for only a moment, then lumbered ever closer.

Their voices were low and raspy. “You weren’t supposed to be here.”

Gabriel paused, evaluating the alley’s shape and layout. The corridor was narrow, but he wasn’t sure how to best make use of the space without knowing the attributes of his opponents. He could hear the building clamor of a crowd gathering behind the barrier. “Neither were you. This is a civilian area. What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

“We’re performing justice.” It was the one in the middle who spoke. He was taller. Or seemed to be — they were all mostly formless, pitch black and soupy. Looking at them too closely made Gabe’s head swim. “You are not a threat. Leave now and we will not hurt you.”

Gabe scowled. “You really don’t know much about Guardians, do you?” 

He lunged for the figure, but his hands ran through them like mirages. Gabe felt cold fingers close around his neck and lift him until he was on the very tips of his shoes. “I know you are impulsive, Mr. Masters, but we do not have time.” He heard a grinding rumble from the adjacent building. “I suggest you focus on evacuating the area.”

Gabe braced himself to retaliate, drawing in heavy, wheezing breaths.

Then, in a blink, they were gone.

He steadied himself and pivoted on one foot, his throat stinging. “August!” He shouted as he stumbled back over the barrier. 

August’s eyes met his. There was a fire there that he’d never seen: bright and furious. Gabe drew in another trembling breath. “Focus on evacuating the two adjacent buildings on either side.” He looked at his father and brother. His dad was holding back a crowd of civilians, one meaty hand still clasping his jacket to his bloodied button-down shirt. Dex had three cell phones open on the hood of a car, barking orders.

The doors of both buildings flew open, that must’ve been August, and he heard alarms blasting from every floor and hallway. Sprinkler water flooded the space behind the windows, and damp residents began to trickle out, looking dazed.

The grinding drew to a crescendo. “EVERYONE!” He thought he could feel his voice carrying more than it should be. “EVACUATE! YOU ARE IN DANGER!”

The heat of the flames licked his back. It may’ve been a small explosion, but it burned hot. He shoved his shoulder through the glass of a first floor window to his right, shepherding a line of fleeing civilians towards the exit, then fighting his way through the crowd and up the stairs.

“Out!” He screamed, shattering any and all windows he came across with the flats of his knuckles. “There may be live explosives! A two story fall is better than an explosive impact. Jump if you need to!”

“GABE!”

He smelled it before he felt it. The lingering scent of gasoline. The ash. 

He smelled it, then he heard it.

Then he burned.