Josh

Continuation: Eight Years Earlier – Belarus

The bar was loud. It was late, and the place was a worn-out tavern tucked away on the outskirts of northern Belarus. The wooden tables were scratched and scarred from years of use, and the faint smell of old beer and smoke stuck to everything. Cozy, in a way, despite the faded décor. The type of place where no one asked questions.

The owner, an older guy with a white beard and a rugged look, hadn’t batted an eye at the sight of us—people who clearly didn’t belong there. Different nationalities, different accents. He just poured the drinks, took the money, and minded his business.

Lorraine’s curly hair caught the low light as it bounced around while she laughed at one of her bad jokes. The dim glow made her look almost carefree, but I knew better.

Sergei was shoveling food into his mouth between gulps of beer, barely pausing for breath. The guy ate like he had a bottomless pit for a stomach, but I didn’t blame him—he was built like a tank.

Me? I just stared at my phone, the chatter around me slipping into a dull hum. Lorraine had made a big show of promising to pay for the drinks. Yet, despite her enthusiasm, I felt more dead than alive.

Sure, we got paid well for the work we did, well enough for Lorraine not to worry as Sergei ate and drank half the bar dry, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Not about the money, not about the drinks, not about any of it.

My food sat untouched, my beer warm in my hand. I should’ve felt something. Satisfaction, maybe. Relief, even. But no matter how hard I tried to tune everything out, the only thought that surfaced was what I’d forgotten: Isaac’s birthday.

I unlocked my phone and stared at the screen of the photo that Demons sent me before the mission. Isaac’s birthday was on, and I wasn’t there. But Damon was.

A strange pressure built in my chest as I stared at the picture, an unnamed ache lingering beneath the surface.

Lorraine’s laugh drifted into the haze of my thoughts. “Oi, Josh!” she called out, grinning wide as she looked around the table. “Look at him, zoning out. Must be thinking about how he finally graduated from rookie status.” She leaned back in her chair, smirking and raising her glass. “Congrats, rookie. First Esper kill! You’ve made it. Let’s hope it’s not your last, eh? Those bastards don’t go down easy.”

The others chuckled, clinking their glasses together in a casual toast. “To Josh, no longer the rookie!” Lorraine shouted, raising her beer high. Everyone followed suit like this was some milestone.

Raising my beer, I forced a half-smile.

“To no longer be a rookie,” Sergei added, still chewing on a mouthful of food.

I took a long drink, the bitter taste settling in my gut like a rock. The team returned to their banter, but I couldn’t shake the image of Isaac, his drunken smile burned into my mind, and Damon sitting next to him.

Lorraine noticed my attention drift back to my phone. “Who’s that?” she asked, leaning over and squinting at the screen. “Cute guy. Boyfriend?”

I shook my head. “A friend,” I muttered, locking the phone and setting it face down on the table.

“Huh. A friend,” she repeated, her voice teasing, though softer now. “Friends are good to have. Better when they don’t know what we do for a living, though.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right.”

She let out a low, dry chuckle. “Ever thought about what you’d do if someone you love awakened as an Esper?”

The bar’s noise faded, and I stared down at the worn wood of the table. Isaac’s face flashed through my mind, superimposed over the Esper I killed today—the molten skin, the fire in their eyes, the destruction. I swallowed hard. Isaac as an Esper… the thought alone made my heart twist, a kind of pain I hadn’t let myself feel until now.

I looked up at her. “Then I hope I’d have the power to stop them.”

***

Present

“Isaac, please tell me what’s happening,” I said. But I didn’t need an explanation. I knew exactly what I was witnessing—the awakening of an Esper.

Eight years in the Unit. Every hunt, every kill chipped away at who I used to be. Instincts ran on autopilot. Decisions were made before my brain could catch up. You go numb and lose the part of you that cares about anything except survival.

I was trained to react fast and clear-headed. But now? Now, I was fumbling in the dark, fear crushing my chest. There was no protocol for this. No enemy I could shoot. No target to eliminate. Just Isaac, standing there as the world glitched and twisted around us.

I should’ve moved faster, snapped into action like I always did. But I froze. My training, everything I knew, turned on me.

And I fucking hated it.

I tried to move, to get to him, but my feet stuck like they were glued to the floor. The ground shifted beneath me, turning to quicksand. My legs gave way. I fought hard, but I sank deeper, trapped by my own failure. The weight was crushing, gravity pressing me down, locking me in place.

Isaac dropped to his hands and knees. A scream tore from his throat. It was the kind that rips through you, lodges in your chest, and won’t let go. I’d heard screams like that before. From Espers, who couldn’t control their powers. From those who broke apart, consumed by the very thing they couldn’t contain.

The burns on his arms began to glow. They shimmered like prisms under his skin, warping light in unfeasible ways. His hands, arms, chest—his whole body—began to break apart. Jagged cubes snapped off, shattered, and reformed in chaotic patterns.

“Josh… I can’t… stop it! It hurts!” Isaac’s voice was raw, broken.

He convulsed, jerking violently as the cracks deepened. Light poured out as if something inside him was trying to tear free. I fought to break out of the quicksand, but my legs wouldn’t respond.

My hand stretched toward him, desperate. “Isaac! Don’t let it overtake you!”

And for the first time in my life, I felt helpless.

There was no gun I could draw, no enemy to fight, nothing I could do to save him. Years of training, years of killing Espers—none of it mattered. Not when Isaac was falling apart in front of me.

Isaac’s eyes met mine, and his face twisted in agony. “I’m sorry… Will… Josh.”

For a second, the world held its breath. He was saying goodbye.

Time slowed, or maybe my mind was breaking it into fragments. Isaac’s skin cracked further, and his eyes glowed, turning gold. Light seeped from the fractures in his body. Thin beams scattered in all directions.

I heard the tick… tick… tick of the clock slow down. The faint drip of water from the leaky faucet. Everything else was blurred, floating.

Chairs. Glasses. Even the dust.

Isaac spasmed again, but this time, it was slower.

What would you do if someone you love awakened as an Esper? Lorraine’s question from all those years back echoed in my head.

Something inside me snapped.

I moved. My muscles burned, tearing apart from the inside. The room spun, the light twisting, flashing as if pulled into a black hole. But I kept going. Even as the pressure built, even as I felt myself unraveling, I pushed harder.

I made it to Isaac and collapsed to my knees in front of him, hands hovering just above him, shaking, unsure if he could hear me. But I had to say something.

“Isaac,” I breathed. “Do you remember when you first moved in next door? You looked like Will—messy black hair, big hazel eyes, always curious.” My voice trembled, but I pushed on. “I swore I’d be there for you. But I wasn’t. I left. I told myself it would protect you, but all it did was leave you alone.”

Isaac jerked again, more light spilling from the cracks in his skin, but I kept talking, even as my voice shook.

“I became a monster. By the time I realized it, it was too late to come back. After your sister died… I couldn’t let you carry that weight alone again. I couldn’t leave you.”

Tears blurred my vision as I leaned closer. “You can’t go, Isaac. Not now. Not like this. I need you. We both need you.”

Isaac’s convulsions eased, his glowing eyes flickering.

My heart pounded, drowning out the ticking clock and the chaos around us. I’d seen Espers lose control before, but this time… something was different.

Something in me was different.

“Isaac…” I began, but the words caught in my throat as the shadows in the room thickened.

Black clouds gathered, molding into something darker, denser, folding in on themselves. The darkness felt heavier, surrounding us, reacting to me? I didn’t understand it, but it didn’t scare me.

I knelt closer, watching as Isaac’s body gradually pulled itself together. The cracks in his skin weren’t as deep. The light was no longer spilling out. His breathing, though ragged, was slowing.

“Stay with me. I’m right here.”

Instinctively, I reached for him, wrapping my arms around his trembling body. My hand slid to the back of his head, fingers threading through his hair. I rested my face against his neck, feeling the uneven rise and fall of his chest. He was shaking but still here. I held him tighter, hoping the contact would ground him and bring him back.

Isaac’s breath caught, his body jerking under my hands, and for a split second, I swore I felt his fear—not just his, but mine too, swirling between us.

The room felt smaller, shadows pressing in—not menacing, but calming. Isaac’s body was holding together, his skin knitting back. My hand cradled his head, fingers soft against him.

I was helping. Barely. But it was enough.

The darkness thickened. Isaac’s body relaxed in my arms, though his face was still tight with pain. The cracks on his skin were almost gone. His breathing matched mine now—slow, steady.

“Josh…” Isaac’s voice was faint, but he was still here.