{Chapter: 41 - To Nick's New Home}
To make matters worse, Aiden's own watcher power was laughably weak. At most, he could see too far ahead—and even that gave him useless information too frequently.
So he'd adapted.
He easily found a Sniff' and devoured his ability. Sniffs are highly developed psychometrics who can track the location of people or objects over varying distances.
And with it quickly went Nick's house and picked up whatever traces Pop girl left behind.
Using the Sniff ability now, he closed his eyes and laid down on the dusty bed where they had last made love. He reached out, letting his energy ripple through the air like sonar.
A faint resonance.
A flicker of her essence, like the scent of a perfume long faded.
But then… it vanished again.
"She's too far," he muttered. "Or masking herself too well."
The guilt weighed on him, but he forced himself to move on for now. The world wouldn't pause to let him fix the past—not when time is limited and he already had plans to reach her.
He rose to his feet and focused.
If he couldn't find Pop Girl, he needed to pivot. Objective two: the gene potion.
With the story fragments of the Push film still etched into his mind, he recalled the pivotal players still on the board. And just as fate—or perhaps a benevolent multiversal system—would have it, the threads were beginning to align.
He had picked up traces not of Pop Girl, but of Nick—the film's original protagonist.
And not just him. Nick was currently traveling with Kira, the Pusher who could implant false memories, and Cassie, the young Watcher whose abilities Aiden had previously devoured. Though the power was now part of his arsenal, he remembered Cassie as a clever, resilient girl who saw through deceptions most adults couldn't comprehend.
And most importantly...
They still had the gene potion.
A prototype developed by the Division to forcibly awaken latent psychic powers. A volatile cocktail of mutation, madness, and miracle. Most subjects died. One survived—and became exponentially stronger.
If it could be stabilized, it would become the foundation of Aiden's future force.
They were trying to hide—constantly on the move, weaving through the city like ghosts. The Division had been closing in on them, but thanks to Kira's misdirection and Cassie's future sight, they had narrowly escaped multiple ambushes.
Aiden with Sniff's ability found them. This power couldn't give a full image, but he could feel their presence, like distant stars against the blackness of space.
He grinned.
"This is the best-case scenario," he murmured. "I don't have to chase them down one by one. They're gathering in one spot. Easier to observe... easier to plan."
He took a few steps back from the couch, inhaling the stale air of the apartment.
"Nick, Kira, Cassie... you all have something I need. But this time—no choice . No evil heart."
He walked to the broken window and looked out toward the neon-lit streets of the city below. Cars rumbled. Pedestrians moved like ants, unaware shadows that control the world.
The Division was out there—recruiting, experimenting, and killing.
Pop Girl was out there—hiding, scared, and possibly broken.
Aiden turned from the window, fire glinting faintly on his legs. And he took off to the skies heading to their hiding location.
...
In a dimly lit motel tucked between the forgotten alleys of Hong Kong's underworld, three fugitives sat in silence, their breaths shallow, their nerves wound tight like coiled springs.
The curtains were drawn, the lights dimmed. Even the hum of the air conditioner had been turned off. Every sound outside was amplified—distant traffic, footsteps, muffled voices. It was the kind of silence that didn't offer peace. It smothered you.
Nick, the reluctant leader and a low-level Mover, paced restlessly. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he double-checked the makeshift barricade they'd built at the door using a chair and part of the bed frame. His revolver sat heavy in the waistband of his jeans.
On the bed sat Kira, the girl who had once trusted the Division and paid dearly for it. She stared at her trembling hands, her fingers unconsciously brushing the edges of a small metal case—the one containing the gene potion. The vial inside shimmered faintly like liquid starlight.
Beside her, curled on a thin mattress, was Cassie, the once-gifted Watcher who could no longer see the future.
Cassie's blonde hair stuck to her forehead as she lay still, trying to mask the panic building inside. Ever since she lost her ability, every move felt like rolling dice in the dark. She hated it. She hated feeling powerless. She hated being afraid.
Without her visions to guide them, every decision they made was a gamble. And they were running out of luck.
Suddenly—
KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK.
A loud, deliberate knock echoed through the motel room.
All three froze.
Cassie's breath caught in her throat. Kira reached for the small blade hidden in her boot, while Nick immediately drew his gun and held it with both hands.
Another knock came.
Slower this time. Heavier. Like a promise of violence.
Nick motioned for the girls to take cover behind the bed. Cassie slipped behind the mattress while Kira ducked into the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. Nick approached the motel door cautiously, each footstep sounding louder than the last on the creaking floor.
He reached out slowly, intending to peek through the door's peephole.
BOOM!
The door exploded inward, fragments flying through the air like shrapnel.
Nick was thrown back, his shoulder slamming into the wall. His gun clattered to the floor.
Two men entered the room.
One was a tall, broad-shouldered African man wearing a black Division-issued trench coat. His eyes gleamed with sadistic calm. This was Henry Wallace, the Division's top boss—a master Pusher, capable of altering minds with a whisper. Cold, precise, and the man responsible for Nick's father's death.
Beside him stood a younger man, pale and wiry, with twitching fingers and narrowed eyes. He was a Mover, like Nick—telekinetic, but far more experienced.
Henry stepped into the room as though he owned it.
He glanced at Nick, who was coughing and trying to stand. Then he turned his eyes to Cassie, who had risen from behind the bed and now stood defiant.
"Well, well…" he said with an amused smile. "You didn't run. That's surprising. Aren't you a Watcher, little girl? Didn't you see us coming?"
His voice was smooth, laced with venomous amusement.
Cassie narrowed her eyes, masking her fear behind a practiced smirk.
"I did," she lied. "And I saw you die in this room."
Henry arched a brow. "Did you, now?"
His expression shifted subtly. His mind was scanning for deception, but Cassie's face was unreadable. She had learned from the best—when you can't lie with visions, lie with confidence.
He chuckled and glanced at Kira, who had emerged from the bathroom with a box clutched tightly in her hand.
"Give me the potion," he said, the charm in his voice now tinged with command. "Surrender it peacefully, and I might let you walk away. Refuse… and you'll die screaming."
Tension crackled in the air like electricity. The Mover by his side raised a hand slightly, prepared to fling Nick through the wall if he so much as twitched.
Then—
A new voice rang out from the hallway behind them.
"Cough, cough… sorry to interrupt your evil villain monologue, but there's a small problem with your plan…"
Everyone turned.
A man stood at the threshold, leaning casually against the shattered doorway. His dark hair was tousled, his expression calm, and his black coat fluttered behind him as if caught in a breeze that didn't exist.
It was Aiden.
The moment Cassie saw him, something inside her shifted. Relief, tinged with fear. She didn't know who he truly was, but she remembered the last words he spoke when he took her powers:
"I'll help you if we meet again."
And he had.
Henry turned to face him fully.
"You must be the Vampire," he said slowly, eyes narrowing. "The one who's been killing gifted people, stealing their abilities."
Aiden shrugged. "Who I am doesn't matter to you. What matters is—she was right."
He pointed at Cassie.
"The girl said you'd die here today. You laughed. But now... I'm here."
Henry's smirk faded slightly. "Big words."
Aiden slowly lifted his right arm. The room seemed to grow warmer.
With a soft sound like a match being struck, flames ignited around his arm. In an instant, his entire limb was engulfed in a swirling vortex of fire, the light flickering off the motel's cracked walls.
"You want the gene potion?" Aiden asked, stepping forward. "You'll have to burn for it."