Giggle.
He sat with his elder brother on the worn-out couch, the flickering screen casting blue light across their faces. Their favorite comedy film played—some old Earth thing from before the interstellar age, full of bad acting and worse jokes.
But they loved it.
"Look at his swollen head," the little boy chuckled, pointing at the screen.
Calvin smirked. "Yeah. What did you expect? He's a coward."
"No way." The boy's eyes went wide. "He isn't. Don't say such things."
"Yeah, yeah." Calvin waved his hand. "Just shut up. What do you know?"
He grabbed the remote. Switched the channel.
"Hey!" The boy sat up. "No way. Give me that remote."
"Never."
"You say what?" The boy jumped on top of Calvin. "Give me!"
They wrestled—arms flailing, legs kicking, laughter filling the small room. The remote bounced between them.
"Get your hands off now!"
"Get your hands off!"
Calvin pressed his shirt. The boy pressed Calvin's face. They rolled across the couch, knocking over a cup of water, sending pillows flying.
"No!"
"Give it!"
The doors slid open.
Boom.
Calvin pushed.
The boy fell.
His head hit the floor.
Crack.
Blood gushed from his nose. Thick. Red. Wrong.
"Keith."
The boy turned. His mother stood in the doorway. Her face was pale. Her hands were raised to her mouth.
"Keith!"
She screamed.
She ran toward him.
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White light.
Bang.
The wind blasted everything.
His mother dissolved into dust—her body scattering like ash, like snow, like nothing. The house erupted. Walls collapsed. The ceiling came down.
The world shifted.
And all he saw was total blackness.
Keith's finger twitched.
His eyes opened.
Four years.
Tears dripped from his eyes, rolling down his cheeks, soaking into the white pillow beneath his head. He looked around—white walls, white ceiling, white light. Machines beeped beside him. Tubes ran into his arms. His body felt cold. Hollow.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
The door slid open.
Calvin stood there.
A doctor stood beside him. Tracy leaned against the wall near the door, arms folded, yellow hair loose around her shoulders.
"Congratulations," Tracy said. "He is now awake."
Calvin didn't move.
His hands were at his sides. His face was blank. But his eyes—his eyes were red. Filled with tears that hadn't fallen yet.
He stepped forward.
Opened the door by an inch.
Peeked inside.
Saw his brother lying there—pale, thin, alive. The doctor was talking to him, asking questions, checking his pulse.
Keith's eyes found the door.
Found Calvin.
"Finally," Calvin whispered. His voice was sulky. Thick with tears. "I have waited for you all this while."
He looked at his brother for a long time.
Then he closed the door.
And walked away.
"So." The doctor turned back to Keith. "Are you okay? How are you feeling right now?"
Keith stared at the door.
At the place where Calvin had been.
He clenched his fist.
Then he looked at the doctor and nodded.
"I'm alright."
Tracy stood in the hallway.
She watched Calvin disappear around the corner. She looked at the closed door. She scratched her head.
"Uhuh." Her voice was quiet. "What's wrong with those two brothers?"
A Day Later
The sky above the Deep Slums was dark—not with night, but with the shadow of something approaching. The stars were still there, but they seemed dimmer now. Farther away.
Tracy stood on the road, close to a black car. Its engine hummed. Its tires glowed faintly.
Kael walked slowly toward her.
He was first.
His boots cracked against the pavement. His headset hung around his neck, glowing blue and purple. His hoodie was pulled up, casting shadows across his face.
His eyes locked with Tracy's.
Brown met blue.
They both were silent.
Fierce contact. Unbroken. Electric.
Tracy didn't move.
She clenched her fists. Her back pressed against the car. Goosebumps rose on her arms—not from cold, from something else. Something she couldn't name.
Kael reached her.
Stood in front of her.
She tried to hold her ground.
At least she tried her best.
Kael bent his head low. His voice was quiet. Flat.
"You are stepping in my way."
Tracy shifted.
"Sorry."
He walked past her. Opened the car door. Slipped inside.
Tracy stood there for a moment, touching her neck softly, feeling the ghost of something she didn't understand.
"What was wrong with me?"
Calvin walked out of the underground building.
Keith followed behind him—meters apart, not speaking, not looking at each other. Calvin's hands were in his pockets. His head was down. His face was blank.
Keith watched his brother's back.
Tracy stared at them.
Kael noticed.
Something happened, he thought.
Tracy entered the front passenger seat. Kael sat behind her, near the window. Keith climbed in last, sitting beside Kael.
Silence.
Pure, thick, suffocating silence.
Calvin sat in the driver's seat.
He put the car in gear.
He sighed.
For a long moment, he didn't move. He just looked at the underground—at the concrete walls, the flickering lights, the place that had been his home for more than two years. The bullies. The thugs. The gangs in various parts of the city.
He had missed them.
He faced front.
The car boosted.
Keith snorted.
Kael looked at him, then turned front.
Keith's eyes drifted to Kael's headset—glowing, cracked, wrong.
Is he interested in music? Keith wondered.
Tires glowed.
Calvin drove.
Tracy tapped her chip. Her green screen bloomed in the air.
"Percy set up a blue teleport station at one of the east roads." Her voice was calm. Professional. "It will transmit us immediately to the Mid-Spires."
The car climbed in speed. Tires burned brighter.
"Yay!"
Crucify screamed in Kael's skull. Its voice was high. Excited. Wrong.
"I can smell danger! It is coming!"
Kael's eyes widened.
"What? How?" he whispered.
Keith turned toward him.
"Huh?" Keith's brow furrowed. "Are you talking to me?"
Silence.
Bang.
Bullets fired.
Screech!
The car swerved—hard, fast, throwing everyone against their seats. Keith's head hit the window. Tracy grabbed the handle above the door. Kael didn't move.
"What the fuck?" Calvin screamed.
Everyone looked up.
Tiny drones flew above them—dozens of them, red lights blinking, guns rotating. They fired again. Bullets tore through the air, sparking off the pavement, cracking the windshield.
"Shit!" Tracy ducked. "How? It's too early!"
Calvin's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked between the road and the sky.
"Okay." His voice was steady. "Seems things do really get too unpredictable fast."
He hit the pedal.
Vroom. Vroom.
"Speed limiter reached. Speed limiter reached."
The AI voice was calm. Mechanical. Unbothered by the bullets.
"Calvin." Tracy's voice was tense.
"I know." He didn't look at her. "But I got no choice."
Nitro burst from the exhaust. The car lunged.
Drones flew after them—faster than they looked, their red eyes glowing, their guns never stopping. Bullets sprayed across the road. The car swerved left. Right. Left again.
Boom!
Fire exploded behind them.
Screech!
"Oh shit!" Calvin wrenched the steering wheel. The car diverted into another road—narrower, darker, lined with dead buildings and broken neon signs.
Kael relaxed.
His back sank into the seat. His headset glowed. His eyes half-closed.
Enjoying the moment.
Crucify kept ranting—giggling, blushing, screaming in his skull.
"Danger! Danger! Yay! Yay! This is fun! This is FUN!"
Kael smiled.
Not his smile.
Wrong.
But close enough.
End of Chapter Fifteen.