It was almost a good night.
The city was humid, sticky with summer sweat and exhaust fumes. Adrian walked with his head down, hands stuffed in the pockets of a hoodie he should've retired two years ago. A faint smile still lingered on his lips from the date, the girl had laughed at his dumbest jokes, even offered to split the check. Small things. Good things.
That's when he noticed the footsteps behind him.
He stopped. So did they.
Adrian's stomach tightened. He glanced behind — two guys. Both a little older, bulkier. One had a scar down his chin, the other was chewing gum like it owed him money.
He crossed the street.
So did they.
He turned the corner. Quickened his pace. So did they.
Then, without warning, he ran.
Boots pounded after him fast. Too fast.
He tore down an alley and vaulted a trash can, slipping on wet concrete. His shoulder slammed into a brick wall, and before he could move, one of them tackled him from behind. Adrian hit the ground hard, gasping for breath.
They didn't say anything. No threats. No mugging. Just cold eyes.
One knelt beside him and pulled a knife.
"You don't even know what you are," the man muttered.
Adrian's heart was a drum in his ears. He grabbed the guy's wrist, struggling. The other held him down, pinning his shoulders.
The attacker with the knife suddenly slipped — his own leg giving out, as if the floor had buckled under him. He hit the ground face-first with a crack, the blade clattering away.
"What the hell?" the second guy growled, letting go and lunging after him.
Adrian scrambled back — and the man tripped again, this time catching his foot on a pipe that hadn't been there a second ago.
Adrian stared, panting. Both attackers were down, groaning. Blood dripped from one of their foreheads.
He pushed himself up, dazed, and staggered backward. The streetlamps above him flickered violently, their light flaring red for a heartbeat before returning to their usual buzz.
Then it happened again.
One of the men lunged at him — but a pigeon swooped in from nowhere, smacking into the guy's face with a wet flutter of wings. He stumbled into the wall and dropped like a bag of bricks.
Adrian stared, wide-eyed, clutching his chest. His hand was burning. Not from injury — from the inside.
He held it up.
His index finger throbbed with a strange green glow. He hadn't noticed before. Now that he looked... his middle finger had the same glow, dimmer.
He hadn't meant to do anything.
And yet the world had twisted around him like loaded dice.
The two men groaned, barely conscious now. Sirens moaned in the distance — closer every second. Adrian stumbled away from the alley and disappeared into the shadows.