Outside the jewelry store, Adrian sat on a mound of knocked-out bodies, scrolling through his phone as he texted one of his admirers. Glass glittered across the tile like spilled ice. He glanced at the shattered door and made a face — half wince, half impressed with himself.
"Damn. Guess I went too far."
He stood, brushing glass off his jeans, and walked over to the clerk from before. She was frozen behind the counter, eyes wide, still processing the last sixty seconds. She wasn't the only one. A crowd had formed outside the shop. Phones out. Whispers. Then someone started clapping. Then everyone was.
Adrian ignored them. He stopped in front of the clerk.
"Sorry 'bout the mess, Diana," he said, sliding his credit card across the cracked display case.
She stared at him. Then at the card. Then back at him. Frozen.
"Um. Earth to Diana?"
Adrian smiled and snapped his fingers in front of her face. The lollipop stick clicked against his teeth.
She blinked. Color rushed back to her cheeks.
"Oh—sorry. I was…"
"No need to explain," he said, grin widening. "I have that effect on people. By the way, the card's for my rings and these chains."
He reached into the display with practiced ease, pulling out a pair of rings — one gold, one platinum — and three chains: a thick gold dollar link, a platinum A pendant, and a platinum rope collar. He dropped them into a velvet bag without looking.
"Call this number to fix the damages."
He winked and slid a matte black business card across the glass. Diana picked it up, dazed.
She read the name. Her eyes went wide.
"Wait—you're Adrian Reed?"
But he was already walking away, stepping over an unconscious arm, lollipop bobbing.
How'd he…
She watched him hit the escalator going down, hands in pockets, like he hadn't just turned her store into a highlight reel. Then she shook her head and smiled, business card pressed to her chest.
---
Mark felt someone patting his face. The voice was distant, underwater. Then clearer. Closer.
"Hey, dude. Get up!"
He knew that voice. Connor.
A hand grabbed his arm and hauled him upright. Mark's knees almost buckled. Connor caught him, grinning like they'd just won a game.
"Argh… what happened?" Mark asked, holding his head. Pain radiated from his ribs, his knuckles, his shoulder — everywhere Bruce had touched him and everywhere the bat kid had kicked him.
"Oh, nothing much," Connor said, patting him on the back. "Just the fact you beat down your first opponent!"
"Argh! Careful, that hurts."
"Sorry, sorry. Just excited for you." Connor beamed and pointed down the passage. "I mean, look at him. You did him in real good."
Two mall security guards were cuffing the bat kid. The kid's nose was bloody, one eye swollen shut. A taser dart still hung from his thigh.
One of the guards looked over at Mark and nodded, approval in his eyes.
"Thanks for stepping up to stop this trash, kid," he said. "Maybe you can join the security detail here. We could use someone with guts."
Mark chuckled nervously, heat crawling up his neck. "Thanks, but I don't think I'm quite up for that." He scratched the back of his head, wincing when his knuckles protested.
The guard shrugged. "Well, if you change your mind, we'll take you in. No problem."
He turned and left with his partner, dragging the bat kid between them.
Mark watched them go, throat dry. _Security detail?_
"Now then, Marky boy," Connor said, slinging Mark's arm over his shoulder to help him walk. "I think it's time we return to the meeting point. We have a lot to discuss with the rest of the guys."
As they limped toward the center of the mall, Mark's eyes kept flicking to the shadows.
_I wonder if that hooded figure was real or just a figment of my imagination._
The gray hoodie. Standing at the mouth of the passage. Watching him.
_Well, right now I have more important things to worry about._
He didn't say it out loud. But his free hand drifted to his waistband, where the taser used to be.
---
A few minutes later, Mark and Connor pulled up to the rest of the guys near the fountain. Adrian was already there, lounging on a bench, lifting his hand like he was checking the light. The new rings caught the sun. Platinum, gold. His grin was just as shiny.
"Yo, what took y'all so long?"
Hakim's voice was laid-back, smile easy — until they got closer. His eyes tracked Mark's limp, the way he held his ribs. The smile dropped.
"How could you let them get to Mark, Red?"
His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that meant he wasn't calm.
"It wasn't a choice," Connor said, hands up. "But even so, you should've seen the other guy."
His face was practically beaming.
"Wait." Hakim's expression switched from serious to sharp. "You mean he won? Against one of those guys?"
"Heck yeah he did. Look at the pics."
Connor pulled out his phone. The screen lit up with three shots: the bat kid on the ground, taser darts in his thigh, security cuffing him. The last one was Mark, pale, sitting against the wall while a guard talked to him.
Austin adjusted his glasses, leaning in. Adrian whistled low.
"My man," Hakim said. He reached out and patted Mark's shoulder — light, careful.
"Careful, guys. It hurts," Mark winced, breath hissing through his teeth.
"Ah, my bad, man." Hakim pulled his hand back, smile apologetic now. "Didn't mean to."
Adrian stood up from the bench. He fished in his pocket and pulled out a blueberry lollipop. He held it out to Mark.
"Here, dude. You've earned it."
He was grinning, a red one already between his own teeth.
"That's quite a high honor, man," Austin said, the corner of his mouth lifting. "Adrian never shares his candy with those he doesn't respect."
"Yeah," Connor added, slinging an arm around Mark's good side. "That means you're officially part of the squad now."
_Part of the squad?_
The phrase felt foreign to Mark. He was a loner. Zero friends since middle school, if he was honest. And yet these four guys — four obviously extraordinary guys — were looking at him like he belonged.
It hit him in the chest, sharper than the bruised ribs. A kind of happiness he hadn't felt since kindergarten. The playground kind. The _pick-me-for-your-team_ kind.
His throat got tight. He looked down at the blueberry lollipop in his hand.
"This is great, guys, but—" Austin nudged his arm, glasses reflecting the mall skylights. "I think it's probably safer if we leave. Don't you think?"
Hakim nodded once. "You're right, man. Let's bounce, guys."
He was already moving, heading for the exit with that boxer's walk — loose, ready, eyes scanning.
The rest fell in behind him. Mark unwrapped the lollipop. Blueberry. It tasted like victory and pain and something else he couldn't name.
---
Once outside, they got in Hakim's black Benz and drove off. In the car, the boys acted like nothing had happened. Like it was just another day in Brookhaven. And honestly, it kinda was. Everyone did their own thing. Hakim focused on driving, one hand on the wheel. Austin was about to finish his book. Connor was back on Temple Run. Mark just took in the view of the city while holding his side.
After a few minutes of this, Mark finally asked the question on his mind.
"So what did Bruce mean by war?"
Adrian, who was checking his phone, turned it off and faced him. His face calm.
"Exactly what he said. Every Blue High first year under him, and his second year classmates, will come after us." Adrian said with a smile.
"Shouldn't you be worried?" Mark asked simply.
"Worrying won't get us anywhere. Besides, you've proved you have enough grit to handle yourself. Only thing left is to add some training." Adrian said, grinning now, lollipop still between his teeth.
"Now that you mention it, I was hoping you all could teach me something. If you don't mind." Mark said, half expecting a no. But to his surprise, Austin just handed him a scheduled plan for how they'd train him.
"If you follow that to the letter, you'll go from below average to adequate real quick." Austin smiled as he fixed his glasses.
"Thanks." Mark said, taking the paper and putting it in his pocket.
"By the way, just to be clear. This routine won't magically get you to the level of a ranked fighter. But it should make you competent enough to survive an encounter with any first year ranked below 10." Austin continued.
"Of course. I understand." Mark responded. The drive continued. Then Adrian spoke up.
"Hey, Hakim. Can we make a detour?"
"Where to, boss?" Hakim asked nonchalantly.
"Uptown. Golden Boulevard." Adrian said, checking his phone.
"No prob, man." He said, already driving there.
---
Meanwhile, at the train tracks in East Brook, Bruce had just received a video showing the guys he'd hired had been taken out. He sighed heavily.
"I guess I'll have to do this myself. Well, at least it's more fun this way. But first, let me call the seniors to let 'em know."
Bruce murmured to himself, dialing a number on his phone. With that call, the promise of war was sealed. What would come next was inevitable.
---