Acelin loved his time with the new people. Ever since he first saw T’balt, he considered him weird. But he was nice to him. And he never understood why.

  Everyone else in the world had been a complete bother. They called him a waste of space and told him to get out of their way. So he always did things to get attention.

  “Get out of here, kid,” one of the school bullies would say after beating him after school.

  “If you keep picking on me, I’ll get my dad.”

  “Your dad's a deadbeat. That’s why you don’t have a mom.”

  They were always bigger than him, so he couldn’t fight back. Though he never stopped trying and would come home with bruises on his face or a bandage from the nurse. His teachers would call him a good-for-nothing. Then they would call his dad.

  His dad would show up, smelling like smoke and alcohol. Getting into fights seemed to be the only way to get him to care. But when his dad cared, he was angry. Anger came in many forms. Most of them had pain involved. Then he’d leave again, and Acelin would placate himself by playing games and watching the world go by on the TV.

  He was utterly alone in the world. And that’s how he thought it would be for the rest of time, on his own.

  Then the world came to an end—an end that was also a beginning.

  His dad was dead, and Acelin had gained a new strength—the electricity loot that made him stronger than any bully could ever be. He wasn’t going to be bullied again. And to him, everyone was a bully. His teachers. The other kids. His dad.

  He was ready to fight them all and to make the world what he wanted: a playground for him to enjoy. He didn’t care what that looked like.

  And then T’balt showed up, offering a hand, pretending like he was going to save Acelin from the monsters. But he looked like he had always known that Acelin was strong. He was the only adult who didn’t blatantly treat him like a kid. It was because he knew what it was like to be all on your own. Acelin could see it in his eyes.

  Even though he was distant at times, he was nice to him. He brought him around these fun people like Ellie and Cannon. The first people to make him think that maybe the world wasn’t full of bullies, and he’d found somewhere he might fit in. Like what a family was supposed to look like.

  So when he saw the man trying to take that away from him. He remembered all the bullies in his life. He remembered his father. “I’m stronger than you now.”

  Vikram desperately tried to stop the kid with his sudden explosions, but Acelin was buzzing with speed loot. He was elusive and small. All the combustions did was break furniture and ruin the batting cage.

  Acelin zipped around him and kicked him in the knee. “Stupid kid. What is this?” the man grabbed his leg with one hand, aiming his other at wherever the kid might appear.

  Vikram turned, and Acelin was behind him with a small shock to the back. Then another to the arm and to the chest, and finally one to the forehead, making the man’s eyes roll to the back of his head. The Bear fell down on his knees, body twitching. He looked unconscious.

  Ellie hurried back over to heal T’balt before he took a turn for the worse. His burns were bad. She tore his shirt and worked quickly to heal them, watching the redness slowly turn pale at the smoking of her hands.

  Acelin reared his hand, ready to strike the final blow that would make the man gone for good. “Acelin. T’balt’s okay,” Ellie said. T’balt was standing again, leaning on her shoulders, still coming to but alive.

  Acelin smiled in a fit of relief, but T’balt wasn’t the only one recovering. Vikram raised his head. When he heard that his target was still alive, he used the last of his strength to fix that.

  Ellie kept her hypersensitivity active. So when the air shifted between her and T’balt, her instinct was to throw T’balt out of the way.

  The blast hit her in the core, and almost instantly, she blacked out. All she could hear were the calls of her name, but she couldn’t tell where they were coming from. “Ellie, your arm!” T’balt went to her.

  Her right forearm had been eviscerated by that attack. She was losing pools of blood by the second. Her eyes began to fade as she fought for consciousness.

  “Ellie, no. Stay with me!” T’balt yelled. “Damn it.” He quickly ripped a piece of his sleeve to try to wrap the wound, but he couldn’t stop her from fading.

  He looked back at Acelin. His eyes were sparked with lightning, and with a single flash and movement of his hand, he had executed Vikram. “Acelin…” The body fell backwards, first spitting its blood onto Acelin’s face.

  That was the sight he was left with—a teenage boy killing a man like it was nothing. There was no saving him. He saw the killer that was always there. He saw the robotic mask. The iteration had changed, but Nrv was still there.

  “Why did you kill him?” T’balt raised. Acelin only looked at him, like he was certain that what he’d done was the right thing. “You executed him. Like a murderer.”

  “I was… I was defending us. Look what he did to...”

  “But you’re just a kid! You don’t get to make a call like that!”

  Acelin reared back. “Don’t call me a kid.”

  “You are a kid! And now you’re a murderer too! It was a waste of time trying to save you.”

  He heard that word again. It came at him in his father's voice, “waste…“ Acelin went silent.

  “Forget it…” T’balt swallowed. “We gotta get Ellie to a medic. She’s bleeding out fast. I don’t have any healing loot… We gotta take her back to the church.”

  He lifted her unconscious body and began running towards the exit. He couldn’t use his speed fully, still suffering from his own injury. In fact, running as a whole seemed to be a heavy strain. He struggled to breathe normally. But he didn’t have a choice but to keep moving. It was the only way to get Ellie help. “Come on!” he yelled to Acelin, who was staring at the corpse on the ground. The one he made.

  T’balt ran her out to the street, needing to get to their car to get them back to the church. It was their only option. The odds of him finding a healing beast were low. And the odds of someone coming to help were even lower. He ran as her arm limped, dripping blood on the street.

  They finally made it back to where the cars were, but they found it overtaken by a giant shadow. The stone angel lingered in the sky above them, watching almost as if it were expecting T’balt to come this way.

  He ducked into an alley slightly out of its sight. “Damn it. What the hell is that thing doing here?” It was far more active in the last iterations than he’d ever seen. Or maybe he was operating in its territory. It always seemed to be lurking somewhere over the city.

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  The church was the next town over. Nonetheless, if they popped out in the open, there’d be no way that T’balt would be able to outmaneuver it and get to the cars. And there was even less of a chance that they could fight it right now.

  “What the hell do we do now?” T’balt stopped to think. Acelin stayed quiet next to him. With no other choice, they had to take refuge in a nearby building, hoping to wait out the Seraph.

  T’balt laid Ellie on a couch, continuing to apply pressure on the wound. But it was so big that he didn’t know what that would really help. The only saving grace was that part of it was burned, meaning it wasn’t fully open to bleeding. He took off his jacket, covering her arm.

  He listened to her chest. Still breathing, but her heartbeat was fading. He was at a loss. Ellie was the only healer around, and she couldn’t heal herself when she was unconscious.

  He contemplated fighting the angel, but he wasn’t even sure they could get back in time to save her if they left now. It was a half-hour drive, and she was fading fast.

  “Please.” He held her hand. “I don’t care if you love me this time or ever again. I just need you to be alive. Otherwise, this iteration is for nothing.”

  Acelin heard some footsteps from the room next to them. Someone was watching them through the doorway. “Another assassin,” he thought. He threw a lightning bolt at the door, which exploded it on impact. The entire frame went black with ash as the door fell to the ground.

  On the other side was a child. A young girl, she was no bigger than an eight-year-old. Her eyes were big, wide, and grey, as she realized her life just flashed before her eyes.

  Her chest was heaving up and down when she saw the sparks coming from the boy's hand. He looked demonic to her. A monster coming to kill her. So she started to run away.

  “Acelin! What is wrong with you?” T’balt saw the girl and saw Acelin looking like he could kill her.

  “I didn’t…”

  “Look over Ellie.” T’balt ran after the girl. Another problem. Another child. He wouldn’t feel right leaving her alone. And if she ran outside scared of Acelin, then she could run right into the Seraph. He chased after her with as much speed as she could muster.

  The little girl fumbled around with a little sack on her back. She dashed down a long hallway, turning corners and into small holes in the wall.

  “Wait,” T’balt called. “We don’t want to hurt you.”

  Every so often, he’d spark his speed loot, bursting to close the distance, but the girl would make a sharp turn, and he’d nearly crash into a wall. This lasted for some minutes until the girl cornered herself into a small room.

  By the time T’balt caught her, He had used the last of his strength. He was on his knees, crawling using the walls, squeaking out the words, “Don’t go. Please.” And shortly after, he collapsed on the ground, not unconscious but unable to keep moving.

  The young girl approached him then, curious. “Mister, are you sleepy?” Her voice was squeaky, almost like one of those toy baby dolls young girls got for their birthdays. Her hair was brown and messy, but cut short, like she’d given herself a haircut. She was in a night gown that hung to her feet.

  But when she approached, her eyes were glowing that special shade of red. She was analyzing him. “Another hypersensitivity loot?” he wondered. But she blinked, and the red glow was gone.

  “Are you alone?” he asked.

  She sat in front of him, far enough that his arm couldn’t reach her. “No. My momma isn’t far. Are you sure you’re not gonna hurt me?”

  “I won’t. I’m sorry about that. Listen… Me and my friend really need help. Do you think you can go get your momma for us?” It was a last plea, calling on this girl for help.

  “Sure. My momma is the one that told me to come find you in the first place.”

  “What?” T’balt was confused.

  “She says she has lots of things to tell you.”

  T’balt worked his way up to his feet, slowly, but he managed. “To tell me?...”

  “She wants me to tell you to follow me so we can go see her. She knows about your friend, too. You can bring her, and I guess the mean-looking boy can come too. Only if he promises not to shoot me.”

  He was sure he’d never seen that little girl before, and her mother couldn’t have been anyone he knew. Everyone from the church was long gone. He wasn’t the type to know people from the city.

  Maybe it was just some good Samaritan who saw that they were in trouble and wanted to help. That was one of two explanations. The other was that she was a plant from Monan.

  He had already set one trap for him, in Vikram. This could be another. Using a child this small wouldn’t be anything outside the box for him. But still, he didn’t see himself having much choice.

  If he didn’t do anything, Ellie would die, and where would that leave him? He had to at least check it out. And if it turned out to be a trap, then he guessed he was on to the next try.

  “Acelin… We’re going with her. She might be able to help Ellie.”

  Acelin stayed silent, following almost reluctantly.

  T’balt followed the girl slowly, lifting Ellie on his back, struggling his way to the door. The girl introduced herself as Genya. A foreign name, but T’balt couldn’t tell where from.

  She snuck them under the shadows of the buildings, careful to avoid the eye of the Seraph in the sky. Her eyes were glowing red the entire time.

  “You said you were looking for us?” T’balt asked the girl.

  “Yeah. I have a tracking loot. My momma says it's special. I can find whatever kind of loot I want as long as it's not too far away.”

  “Really? That is special,” he said. “So where is your momma?”

  “In this house here. Momma hasn’t been feeling well so don’t attack her or anything.”

  “We won’t. Thanks, Genya.”

  The girl nodded as she opened the door to a strange house underneath a once-busy overpass. It was a quaint, dirty one-story flat, half caved in.

  When they opened the door, a middle-aged woman sat on a loveseat in the living room. It was aimed at the door. Her eyes were closed, though her face moved like she knew the door had opened.

  T’balt carried Ellie into the room. The woman opened her eyes, seeing him fully for the first time. And for some reason, tears welled up in her eyes, and she smiled at him.

  T’balt was sure he’d never seen her before. So why did she look at him like a missing child? “Thank you, ma’am, for having us. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. I don’t know why I’m crying. It was like my body just wanted to for some reason... Your name is T’balt, right?”

  “Yes, but how did you know?”

  “I’m not really sure but… I’m sorry. Your friend is hurt. You can sit her in the bed in the next room.”

  “Thank you.” T’balt did so, placing Ellie on a twin-sized bed in an otherwise empty room. “Can you help her?” he asked.

  “Yes… But for now. We can stop the bleeding.” Ellie's face unconsciously winced as the woman removed the hastily used clothing covering of the wound. The woman saw the sporadic burns on Ellie’s body and took deep note of all of her injuries. “Genya. Grab the first aid kit from the kitchen.”

  The young girl did as she asked, hobbling over with a box that was half her size. T’balt took it from her to ease the burden and held it for the woman.

  She opened the box and disinfected the wound by pouring an alcohol solution on it. Then she wrapped it properly in bandages as T’balt and Acelin watched with the opposite of patience. She didn’t do anything special, but it seemed to be helping.

  “I’m no doctor, but that’s what I can do for her,” the woman said when she was done.

  “Thank you so much,” T’balt bowed.

  “Don’t be mistaken…” she said. “With those wounds, who knows the amount of internal damage she’ll have. It's just that the arm isn’t your biggest worry anymore. By the looks of her, she’ll still die.”

  “What do you…”

  “I thought you could fix her, lady,” Acelin interjected.

  “No, but… I can help T’balt fix her.”

  “How?” T’balt asked frantically.

  “I can’t tell you just yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because. I have a message… no… several messages.”

  “Messages? From who?”

  “From God… or… yes. God.” She sounded unsure of all her words, like her brain was scattered, and she couldn’t think properly.

  “We don’t have time for that. I’m not a messenger from God. I’m just a man. A man looking to save his friend from dying.”

  “It's... not our god. The Looter God. And he says that I can only help you after you’ve heard the messages.”

  “What messages? Who are you?”

  Her face shifted into some clarity. This knowledge she could give without confusion. “My name is Ann Patrick. You don’t remember me. But I was there when you killed the Redeemer.”