For most people, surviving Arclight’s gritty streets meant blending in and keeping their heads down. For Ethan Cross, it meant putting on a mask and punching crime in the face.

Ethan was 22 years old, but the weight of his double life made him feel twice that. By day, he was a part-time college student and pizza delivery guy, struggling to scrape together enough money for tuition and rent. By night, he became the city’s shadowy protector, known only as the Virtuoso—a name whispered among criminals with equal parts fear and awe.

It wasn’t a role he chose. Five years ago, Ethan stumbled across a relic buried deep in the ruins of an abandoned lab. The artifact, a shard of obsidian pulsing with an eerie glow, had fused with his body. The process was excruciating, leaving him unconscious for days. When he woke, he found he had been gifted—or cursed—with abilities no ordinary human possessed.

Ethan could control shadows, bending them to his will. He could vanish into darkness, create tangible weapons out of nothing, and move faster than the human eye could track. But the power came at a cost: nightmares of an ancient being speaking in riddles, whispering of a prophecy he didn’t understand.

For now, Ethan used his powers to keep Arclight safe—or as safe as a city like this could be. He’d taken down gangs, thwarted corporate conspiracies, and stopped assassinations, all while keeping his identity a secret. But for all his strength, he still struggled with the simplest things, like balancing his responsibilities or, more importantly, delivering pizza on time.

---

Ethan glanced at his watch as he weaved through the late-night traffic on his battered scooter.

“Twenty minutes late,” he muttered. “Again.”

The scooter jolted as he hit a pothole, nearly sending the stack of pizza boxes tumbling into the street. He gritted his teeth. At this rate, his boss, Mr. Romano, would have his head. But it wasn’t his fault. Not entirely.

The night had started like any other. He’d clocked in, donned his ill-fitting uniform, and loaded up the orders. Then, halfway through his first delivery, he spotted a gang of masked men breaking into a jewelry store.

“Just my luck,” he’d grumbled before ditching the scooter and slipping on his mask.

In a blur of movement, Ethan had scaled the building and confronted the thieves. His shadows danced across the rooftop, disarming them effortlessly. The fight had lasted less than three minutes, but the clean-up had eaten into his delivery time.

---

Now, here he was, speeding down the empty streets of Arclight with cold pizza and the sinking feeling that this wasn’t going to end well. He finally arrived at the delivery address—a modest apartment building tucked between a laundromat and a convenience store. He parked the scooter and jogged to the door, balancing the boxes as he rang the bell.

The door swung open, and Ethan found himself face-to-face with a young woman who looked like she’d stepped out of an action movie. She had fiery red hair tied in a loose ponytail, sharp green eyes, and a leather jacket that screamed, “Don’t mess with me.”

“You’re late,” she said, crossing her arms.

Ethan gave her his best apologetic grin. “Sorry, there was…traffic.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Traffic? At midnight?”

“Well, you know how it is. Hover-car pileups, stray cats, armed robbers on rooftops…”

She stared at him, unimpressed. “My pizza’s cold.”

Ethan winced. “I can explain.”

She snatched the box from his hands, muttering under her breath. “Unbelievable.”

As she turned to walk back inside, something caught Ethan’s attention—a shadowy figure lurking in the alley across the street. His instincts kicked in, and he glanced back at the woman.

“Uh, miss…you might want to stay inside tonight,” he said, his tone serious.

She paused, frowning. “Why?”

Before Ethan could answer, the figure stepped out of the shadows, revealing a man in a sleek black suit. His face was obscured by a mask, and his movements were unnaturally smooth.

“Great,” Ethan muttered under his breath. “One of those nights.”

The man raised a hand, and a ripple of energy shot toward the building. Ethan reacted instantly, shoving the woman inside and slamming the door shut.

“What the hell?” she shouted, but Ethan was already moving.

He darted across the street, shadows swirling around him as he closed the distance. The masked man didn’t flinch, his voice cold and mechanical. “Virtuoso. The Council sends its regards.”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “Do you guys rehearse these lines, or is it just bad luck that you all sound like movie villains?”

The man lunged, his fists glowing with energy. Ethan dodged effortlessly, his shadows coiling like snakes to counterattack. The fight was quick and brutal, ending with the masked man pinned against a wall, his mask shattered.

Before Ethan could interrogate him, the man bit down on something—a suicide capsule. He collapsed, his body dissolving into ash.

Ethan cursed under his breath. “Well, that’s not ominous.”

He turned back to the apartment building, realizing the woman was watching him from the window.

“Fantastic,” he muttered. “So much for keeping a low profile.”

---

Back at the apartment, Mia Harper (as Ethan would later learn her name) grilled him with questions.

“You’re the guy they’ve been talking about on the news, aren’t you? The one who’s always skulking around at night.”

Ethan shrugged, trying to play it cool. “I prefer ‘heroically saving the day,’ but yeah, that’s me.”

She folded her arms, unimpressed. “And you still can’t deliver a pizza on time?”

He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Hey, even heroes have their flaws.”

Mia didn’t smile. Instead, her gaze hardened, and Ethan noticed something strange—her hand was gripping the doorframe tightly, her knuckles white.

“Stay out of my business,” she said abruptly, slamming the door.

Ethan blinked, confused. He hadn’t expected a thank-you, but her reaction was…weird.

As he hopped back onto his scooter, he couldn’t shake the feeling that Mia Harper was more than she seemed.

And he wasn’t wrong.