The shot split the air.
Warm blood splattered across my face—not mine. One of the ETU soldiers dropped, skull cracked open from a bullet that hadn't come from me. His partner panicked, eyes wild. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything," I snapped, the sarcasm gone from my voice, replaced with something rawer, steadier.
He raised his rifle and fired. Bullets slammed into me, burning through flesh. I fell. More rounds cut through the night, but as fast as the holes tore into me, they sealed shut. The slugs slid out of my body and clattered on the asphalt. Groaning, I forced myself upright—then froze.
He was there.
My older brother. Manny.
"Is it true, Goshi?" His face twisted into a manic grin.
I couldn't answer, not even breathe.
"Is Amoi…?" His voice cracked, and I gasped but said nothing. Silence was enough. His grin collapsed into fury. "So it's true. Those bastards let him die. I'll kill them."
He punched upward and the street howled. Winds ripped through the block, tearing down lampposts, cell towers, power lines. The whole sky seemed to buckle under his rage. When it faded, the air stung, vibrating with leftover force.
"The ETU will be here soon," Manny said. "Get out of here, Goshi. It's going to get ugly."
I stumbled back, then turned and ran.
Sirens rose in the distance, followed by the growl of armored trucks. Vehicles screamed toward Manny's direction, tires shredding asphalt. But one stopped in front of me. Soldiers poured out, rifles leveled. "Freeze!"
I lifted my palms. The air boomed outward. Soldiers and their truck were hurled like toys across the street.
More engines roared closer. I ran, but I knew I couldn't outrun them forever. A plan hit me—stupid, desperate. Force air under my feet. Launch myself.
I breathed deep, closed my eyes, then shoved down. The ground fell away as I shot into the sky. For a moment I was free—until I remembered one thing: I hadn't planned the landing.
The city rushed up to meet me. Panic tore through me, but another thought cut in: I heal.
I hit the street like a comet. Pain ripped through every nerve, white-hot and unbearable—then vanished as my body knitted itself back together. Panting, I climbed back up and kept running.
The war found me before I found escape.
At the next corner, the street was already in flames. Enhanced citizens clashed with ETU squads, fire against rifles, telekinesis against tanks. People like me, dying in alleys, in gutters, with no second chances. I kept moving, but in the corner of my eye something darker loomed.
On the rooftop above—a black figure. A shape without detail. Watching.
It pointed behind me.
I turned. A soldier had his rifle to my head. "Don't move, or I fire."
The dark spirit moved first. One brutal kick, and the soldier snapped backward like a rag doll, erased from the world. Then the shadow faded, dissolved, gone.
Terror hollowed me out, but my legs still worked. I ran, but every direction closed in. Tanks blocked one exit, trucks the next. Soldiers filled the intersections. Enhanced fighters and I stood caged.
The commander's voice cut through the storm. "On my mark. Fire."
I felt it—fear radiating from every enhanced soul trapped there. It crawled under my skin until it became mine. The order came. "Fire!"
I opened my arms wide.
A dome of white light burst out, massive, covering us all. Bullets cracked against it and dissolved. Missiles hit and bent away. Gasps echoed around me. With a final push, I raised my hand high—and the shield warped. In an instant, it carried us across the city and dropped us in safety.
The crowd stared like I was a messiah. Then, like smoke in wind, they scattered.
My body quaked with exhaustion. Every muscle felt like lead. Then the sirens changed pitch—citywide weather alarms. An announcement blared across every street speaker:
"Any protestors, revolutionaries, or enhanced civilians resisting law will be killed or imprisoned. Wanted list updated. Subject: Goshi, white hair, hazel eyes. Subject: Manny. Bring them in alive."
My name. My brother's name.
I stumbled down the sidewalk, head low. Past a storefront, I grabbed a hoodie from a mannequin—blue and grey—and pulled it over my head. Blending into the crowd was the only way to breathe.
But soldiers were already massing, doing crowd checks. Twenty feet away, rifles swiveled. I turned casually, sliding into the press of people. That's when I felt him—someone close, too close. A man walked beside me.
"Goshi," he said low. "It's me. Don't look. Don't speak."
I didn't.
"You've heard of Pansen?"
The name froze my blood.
"If so, I know how to get there," Manny whispered. "Follow me—at distance."
He walked on. I followed.
Hours later, we reached the city of Nesarri, where the Tree of Life loomed over the horizon—vast, ancient, stretching into the clouds. Manny stopped at the gate encircling the 200-mile preserve.
"The only way inside," he said, "is power."
He raised a hand. A guard dropped dead, neck snapped. Manny split his palms apart, and the metal gates bent away like paper.
We slipped through.
At the base of the tree, a shadowed opening yawned wide. Manny turned, eyes fever-bright. "Watch this."
He raised his hands and spilled black light into the bark. The tree's darkness shifted, warping into a spiraling galaxy of color and void.
And just like before, Pansen called.
I stepped inside.