Josh

I was fucking right. The Black Hand was involved in this. Their cheap trick of checking people like livestock was too obvious. The people in line had no clue what was really going on. Just sheep, shuffling forward, thinking the government still gave a damn about their lives.

Newsflash: they didn’t.

Not when a god started the last purge, ripping the fabric of reality and awakening their number one enemies, the Espers. Not when fear is easier to sell than hope. There were only six days left before the world would end.

The government wanted to fulfill its agenda and ego. People wanted to see their loved ones and escape the cities before the chaos began. And yet, even that last right, the right to hope, was being stripped away—replaced by fear and control.

Why?

But that wasn’t my main problem right now. The real problem was the man walking straight toward us — Marshall.

Of course, he wouldn’t awaken as an Esper; he was too rotten for the divine blood to run through him. There were two types of recruits in the Black Hand, and he was one of the worst kind.

The first group consisted of those who excelled in any military branch, chosen because they had “potential.” They never knew the truth about the gods, only the lies drilled into them from childhood.

Basically me.

Then, there’s the second kind—the survivors. The ones who joined for revenge after Espers tore their lives apart. For them, the Black Hand was more than duty. It was a reason to keep breathing.

And Captain Ryan “Hawk” Marshall was one of them.

“Josh… Josh!” Isaac’s voice snapped me back, his fingers digging into my arm. I could feel every nerve in my body jump, my skin bristling like static.

“Is it that bad?” His voice cracked.

My brain scrambled for anything to keep Isaac from spiraling. “Did you drink water?” The question felt stupid the second it left my mouth, but I needed something—anything.

“Oh no, you really lost it? I— I locked eyes with him,” Isaac blurted out.

I spun toward him. “You what? I told you not to do that!”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” His eyes glistened, the faint glow already creeping in.

I grabbed him, pulling him into my chest. “Shh. It’s okay. We’ll get through this.” He shook against me, clutching the front of my shirt for a moment before I let him go.

Reaching into the back seat, I grabbed a water bottle and handed it to him. “Here. Drink.”

Isaac gulped the water down, fast, like it might drown the storm building inside him.

“Listen to me, Isaac. If things go south—”

I reached up, brushing a strand of hair from his face and tucking it behind his ear. His hair had grown long again, even though he’d cut it right after we moved in together. But after Will left for California, it was like he didn’t even have the strength to cut it.

“Everything will be okay,” I reassured him.

Isaac nodded stiffly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. He took a shaky breath, trying to hold it together. I rolled down the window as casually as I could.

Marshall’s boots crunched over the gravel, slow and deliberate. He wasn’t in a rush. The breeze stirred, carrying the sharp smell of diesel from the nearby tanks. He held my paperwork loosely in his hand.

He loomed at the window, shadow cutting across the pavement. Leaning in, the stench of sweat and cigarettes clung to the air between us. His green eyes narrowed, not quite friendly but full of intent.

“Sergeant Smith,” he said, “what brings the alpha of the Underdogs out here?”

His gaze swept over the car’s interior, pausing on Isaac before landing back on me. He shifted his focus between my driver’s license and the car paperwork before handing them back. His brow furrowed for a split second like something didn’t sit right.

I snatched the papers from his hand and shoved them into my backpack without a second thought.

A slow smile curled on his lips, tight and humorless.

“Well, well, it’s true then? You tied the knot? You look… settled,” he sneered, tapping his fingers on the window edge. “So, you found someone to cry over your grave after all? Must be nice. Most of us don’t get that luxury. Lucky you.” His gaze darted toward Isaac again, the smile staying cold. “Shame, though. The girls and the boys in the unit were really disappointed when you left.”

What a fucker.

Marshall was like Damon, who liked pushing buttons to see the reaction. He’d been part of Unit 9 but handled ops for Team Phalanx, the smaller command unit coordinating teams. We were not friends. We rarely crossed paths, except for that one mission in Norway three years ago.

Even back then, Marshall was the same.

Before joining the Black Hand, he had a wife and a good life—until everything went to hell. An Esper descended from Týr, the Norse god of war and justice, lost control, turning cities across Finland into battlefields. Hawk and his family were visiting his wife’s hometown when the attack happened, and they got caught in the crossfire. That’s when he got the deep scar on his left cheek, the result of shrapnel cutting him as he tried to pull his son from the wreckage. After that, he had nothing left to lose.

And a man with nothing left is the most dangerous.

I turned to Isaac. He was crushing the water bottle in his grip. His mouth hardened, but he hadn’t made a sound.

I didn’t have time for Marshall’s games. I knew what he was. A psychopath. Hell, I’d seen it myself in Norway. He didn’t just kill Espers. He tortured them, dragged it out for as long as he could, savoring their pain. And he liked it.

“I need to pass. I’ve got to pick up my nephew before things go down.”

Marshall clicked his tongue. “Sure, sure. You’re a civilian now. No unfinished business?”

“I’m out, Marshall. You know that.”

“Out?” He let out another humorless laugh. “Six months doesn’t seem long enough to lose your edge. Or have you?”

His focus shifted, locking onto Isaac in the passenger seat. Isaac tensed beside me, his fingers trembling around the crushed water bottle. I moved to block his view, but Marshall’s scarred cheek twitched, pulling his mouth into a twisted, diabolical grin.

“In your hurry, you wouldn’t be hiding anything, would you?” Marshall’s voice dropped. “Maybe something you should’ve reported?”

I stayed quiet, and he continued. “We got the report on some interesting things in Pittsburgh yesterday. Apartments glitching. Strange anomalies showing up. Whole buildings flickering in and out.” His stare drilled into mine, unblinking. “Sound familiar? Especially since that’s where you live.”

Shit. Shit. Shit.

He knows. He knows Isaac is an Esper. My guess was right: they were looking for something, and that something was Isaac. We’d basically walked into their hands without even realizing it.

A silence stretched between us, heavy and tense. Marshall’s gaze pinned me down, watching closely. I wasn’t budging, wasn’t giving him anything. And he knew it.

“And here I thought we’d have a nice chat. Catch up on old times.” He hunched down, leaning closer, his arms resting on the window’s edge. “Maybe you could show me if you’ve still got what it takes. Killing Espers, like your bitch.”

He tapped his ear, activating the comm. “Get in position,” he ordered. “Anomaly located. Stable Esper.”

In seconds, soldiers surrounded the car, rifles pointed directly at us. The metal barrels gleamed under the sun.

We were nothing more than targets in their sights.

Black shadows crept into my vision, warping everything at the corners. I knew Isaac was about to snap—his energy was rising, surging, waiting to explode. And I couldn’t stop it.

“Possible rank S—” Marshall halted. He looked at me, confused. His eyes slid past me, locking onto Isaac again. I followed his gaze and turned to look at Isaac.

Isaac stared down at his hands. They were cupped, and the water bottle, now nothing more than a warped mess, was melting and dripping between his fingers. His focus was unwavering, as if he were seeing something no one else could.

Then, as if he saw something horrific, his face distorted. A raw, guttural “Nooo!” tore from his throat. In an instant, he lunged and grabbed me with such force that time seemed to slow.

And I sank into darkness.

***

I stood in the middle of the road. Everything around me blurred as if I’d been pulled underwater. The sun was so harsh it felt like needles on my skin, and a buzzing sound filled my ears.

I threw an arm over my face, trying to block the blinding light enough to see what was in front of me.

But when things finally sharpened into focus, I wished they hadn’t.

It was a scene of pure terror, caught mid-chaos. People were out of their cars, running in panic. Their faces contorted, mouths stretched in silent screams. A car on fire sent black smoke into the sky. Soldiers fired on the crowd, bullets slicing through the air.

Blood splattered across the pavement, mixing with the oil. Sweat trickled down my temples as I swallowed hard, my throat dry as hell.

My eyes drifted toward where the quarantine tent had been. It was shredded, torn from the top. Above it, the kid they’d dragged in earlier with his family was floating. His arms were outstretched. His hands glowed, channeling the rays of the sun. They were beams of pure fire, ready to incinerate everything around him.

I turned my head slowly and saw my car surrounded by the soldiers, rifles locked on it. The bullets weren’t moving. They hung mid-flight, caught in the air as if someone had hit pause on the world.

My gaze followed their path to where Marshall stood, a bullet suspended mid-air, poised to tear through my skull.

Isaac’s face was a mask of anguish, eyes wild, still screaming. There was no sound, but I could feel it. Feel him.

I tried to move, to turn my body, but I was rooted to the spot. And in that terrible stillness, a voice cut through, casual and calm.

“Marvelous, isn’t it?”

The voice came from beside me as if it was commenting on the weather, not the chaos around us. Only my head would respond, and I turned toward the sound.

A military officer stood next to me, his uniform pristine, untouched by the carnage. The moment our eyes locked, my heart skipped a beat. Galaxies—swirling, endless galaxies—spun in his irises. Isaac’s description of them crashed into my mind like a wave.

“Chronos?” The name slipped from my lips. He smiled slowly, like he’d been waiting for me to recognize him.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me. I suppose that makes this a little easier, then.”