"Mannnn, I wish I was there."
Calvin leaned against the wall, arms crossed, eyes wide with something between awe and envy. His reddish-pink hair hung loose around his face. His headband was nowhere to be seen.
"Cause if there's something I know for sure—Percy's driving is freaking crazy."
He laughed. Shook his head. Kept talking.
"She never follows rhythm. She just... goes. No pattern. No plan. Just instinct. I've seen her drift through gaps that shouldn't exist. I've seen her take corners at speeds that should flip the car. And she never even blinks."
Kael sat on a crate in the corner of the garage. His hoodie was off. His arm was bare. He wrapped a bandage around his bicep—slow, methodical, tight enough to stop the bleeding but loose enough to move.
The bullet wound from the car chase was still fresh.
"She said you're crazier," Kael said. His voice was low. Flat.
Calvin stopped laughing.
"Me?" He pointed at his chest. "Nah. Not crazy like her. But skilled? Yeah. I think so."
He pushed off the wall. Started pacing.
"I love racing. Right since I was a kid. My little brother—before the coma—he used to watch me race in the underground tracks. Illegal stuff. Dangerous. Cars with no safety regulations, drivers with no fear. And I loved every second. He would cheer every time I won."
Kael looked at him.
"Are you aware of us going to the Mid-Spires?"
Calvin didn't hear him. He was still talking. Still pacing. Still lost in his own memories.
"The engines, man. The sound. The way the tires scream when you take a corner too fast. The way the world blurs when you hit top speed. Nothing else matters. Just you and the road and the—"
"Calvin."
"—engine. And the smell of burnt rubber. And the feeling of—"
"Calvin."
He stopped. Turned.
"Wait. What?"
Kael stared at him.
"The Mid-Spires," he said. "We're going."
Calvin's face went pale.
"What? No. No way." He stepped closer. His voice dropped. "That place is dangerous. Don't go. You hear me? Don't go."
Kael said nothing.
Calvin kept talking. Non-stop. Like a parrot. About the gangs in the Mid-Spires. About the elites who looked down on Deep Slum refugees. About the surveillance systems that watched every street, every corner, every breath.
Kael tuned him out.
He just wrapped his bandage and waited for the boy to run out of words.
Hours passed.
The sky above the Deep Slums was filled with stars.
Thousands of them. Millions. They hung low and bright, flickering like dying bulbs, scattered across the endless black of space. No clouds. No moon. Just the void and the lights.
Kael walked down the middle of the road.
His headset glowed—blue and purple, thrumming with music only he could hear. His hands were buried in the pockets of his hoodie. His boots cracked against the broken pavement.
People moved around him like water around a stone. Some stared. Most didn't.
"I need to test my Sprint Boost," he thought.
His screen bloomed in the corner of his vision—black background, green letters, cold and clinical.
[6 Speed Biogenes]
[Sprint Boost: 7 Seconds]
His legs swelled beneath his joggers. Muscles bulged. Veins surfaced. Then reduced. Then swelled again.
Like his body was still deciding what it wanted to be.
"What should I do?"
Three boys walked toward him.
Sixteen. Seventeen. All hunters. Their chips glowed on their necks. Their eyes were hard. Their smiles were cruel.
They looked at Kael. Exchanged glances. Laughed.
Then they walked into his path.
"Hey."
The tallest one stepped forward. His chest was broad. His arms were thick. His voice was slow and mocking.
"Boss's baby."
Kael stopped.
His headset continued to thrum.
"You're jealous?" He raised his head. His eyes met the tall boy's. No fear. No anger. Just... nothing.
The boy's smile twitched.
One of his companions stepped forward—shorter, wider, with a scar across his eyebrow.
"Watch your mouth." His voice was a growl. "And why would our queen fall for a slut kid like you?"
Kael tilted his head.
"Because you called me her baby."
The third boy laughed. High and mean. "You're funny."
He stepped closer.
"Really funny."
His hand swung.
Kael wasn't there.
He dodged by an inch—just enough. The wind from the punch slapped his cheek. His legs swelled. His knee came up.
Slam.
The boy's stomach collapsed. He coughed blood. His body folded. He hit the ground like a sack of meat.
The other two stared.
"Shit."
"How dare you—"
They attacked.
Kael's legs swelled again.
"Yay!" Crucify screamed in his skull. "YAY!"
Kael boosted.
The wind roared. The beat of his music followed his movement—thump, thump, thump—each bass drop matching his heartbeat, his breath, his blood.
He rotated in the air. His headset glowed. His body spun.
He landed. Grabbed one of the boys by the collar. Turned him. Slammed him down.
Then he released a furious kick—blur-fast, bone-cracking—into the other boy's face.
Boom.
The boy's head snapped back. His body followed. He hit the ground hard.
Kael slapped the last one—the tall one, the one who had called him boss's baby—across the face. Open palm. Loud.
The boy spun. Fell. Didn't get up.
Kael stopped.
Three hunters lay flat on the ground. Bleeding. Bruised. Breathing.
His screen flickered.
[Speed Boost Used]
[2 Hours Cooldown]
Kael stared at the black screen.
He smiled.
"So that's it."
He had known. Deep down. He had known that someone would bully him eventually. The weak always get tested. The new always get challenged.
And if he was lucky enough to be bullied by his peers—not by elites, not by veterans, but by boys his own age—he could use his skill.
He was lucky.
Very lucky.
Others watched from the sidewalks. From the doorways. From the shadows between buildings.
Whispers spread.
"Did you see that?"
"Who is he?"
"That's Percy's new kid."
"Damn."
Tracy stood against a wall. Her hands were folded. Her yellow hair hung loose around her shoulders. Her blue eyes were fixed on Kael.
"Seems the boy is getting stronger," she muttered.
Kael turned.
His eyes locked with hers.
Brown met blue.
Fierce. Unbroken. Electric.
She smiled. Cool. Confident. Testing.
Kael felt something shift inside him.
"Oh," Crucify whispered. Its voice was low. Pleased. "You asked for it."
Kael's eyes turned void.
Not dark. Void. Like the space between stars. Like the silence after a scream. Like something ancient waking up from a very long sleep.
A smile crept across his face.
Wrong.
Too wrong.
Tracy's face fell.
Her smile disappeared. Her eyes widened. Her hands dropped to her sides.
For one second—just one—she felt something she hadn't felt in years.
Fear.
Then Kael turned.
His eyes were normal again. His face was blank. His headset glowed.
He walked away.
Tracy stood frozen against the wall.
She watched him disappear into the crowd.
And she didn't follow.
End of Chapter Twelve.