Max woke before the alarm. Clothes on. Boots laced. No shaking hands. No mirror.
His comm buzzed.
"Briefing. Ten minutes," Loyalty said.
He walked.
The room was half-lit. Loyalty sat, hood down, eyes steady. Samira leaned on the table, flipping a knife. Mira stood with arms folded, headphones around her neck.
"B-Class," Loyalty said. "Possible Corrupted in an abandoned mall. Symptoms point to an Insecurity-type Vice."
Samira raised a brow. "So it talks trash and makes you cry?"
"It erodes confidence," Loyalty said. "Fast. If you doubt, you hesitate. If you hesitate, you die."
Mira nodded once. "Rules?"
"Minimal talking. Keep line of sight. No power usage unless necessary," Loyalty said, then looked at Max a beat longer. "Control matters."
Max didn't flinch. "Got it."
"Team is Max, Samira, Mira," Loyalty said. "In and out. Confirm, isolate, neutralize. Bring the civilian back if possible."
"Understood," Mira said.
Samira slid the knife into a sheath. "Let's go, green eyes."
They moved.
The van hummed. Rain tapped the windows. City blocks thinned into quiet streets.
Samira broke the silence first. "After this, lunch. I'm ordering for you."
"I'm not hungry," Max said.
"You never are," she said. "You still eat."
Mira watched the road. "Stay sharp. These ones spread on contact and emotion."
Max glanced at her. "You good?"
"I'm not the problem," Mira said. "Focus on yourself."
Samira smirked. "That was almost sweet."
Mira didn't answer.
The van stopped. The driver killed the engine.
"Comms on," Mira said. "Check."
"Check," Samira said.
Max clipped his mic. "Check."
They stepped into gray light.
The mall was dead. Broken signs. Silent escalators. A fountain full of rainwater and coins that would never be wished on.
They entered through a side door. Glass crunched. The air felt thin.
"Second floor, north wing," Mira said, scanning the map on her wrist. "Last report pinned there."
Samira walked point. Max center. Mira rear. Triangle formation, tight.
The first whisper came at the food court.
It didn't come from a mouth.
It came from inside.
You're only here because they need a weapon.
Max kept walking.
Another whisper crawled under the skin.
They'll kill you when they figure you out.
He tightened his jaw. "Ignore it. Keep eyes up."
"I'm fine," Samira said. Her voice was steady, but her steps slowed for half a breath.
Mira's tone sharpened. "Don't listen. It reads you. That's how it spreads."
A soft sob carried from ahead. Not loud. Not asking for help. Just leaking.
They moved toward it.
The woman sat against a shuttered store, knees to her chest, fingers digging into her sleeves. Mid-20s. Pale. Eyes red. Shadow pooled around her like spilled ink.
Samira lifted a hand. "Hey. We're here to get you out."
The woman flinched. "Don't look at me."
Mira's eyes narrowed. "It's already wrapped."
Max saw it now. The shadow clung like vines. Not dramatic. Just… attached. It whispered as it moved.
You're not enough. You were never enough.
Samira crouched, slow. "We're taking you home."
"Don't," the woman said, voice cracking. "I make people worse. I ruin things. I don't want to be seen."
The shadow swelled.
Mira snapped, "Move," and dragged Samira back as tendrils snapped at the floor where Samira's knee had been.
"Talk less," Mira said. "It feeds on it."
Samira clicked her tongue. "Got it."
Max stepped in. "Eyes on me."
The woman looked up.
The shadow flinched.
It knew him.
It recognized the hunger in him like a mirror seeing a mirror.
You don't save people, the whisper said in his ear. You burn them.
Max kept his voice level. "We can peel it off. Samira, right flank. Mira, lock the spread."
Mira slid left, hands open. A cold ripple rolled out from her feet, thin as mist. The shadow twitched. Fear meets fear. For a heartbeat, it hesitated.
Samira's knives flashed, cutting shadow tendrils that reached for Max's ankles. "Move, Max."
"I am," he said.
He wasn't flaring. He couldn't. Not here. Not with a civilian. Not with them watching.
He raised a hand. Green heat flickered across his fingers. Small. Precise. A surgeon's flame, not a bomb.
The shadow hissed and recoiled.
The woman screamed.
"Hold her," Mira said, voice flat. "Shadow will spike when threatened."
Samira braced the woman's shoulders. "I've got you, okay? Breathe. Don't look at it."
The whisper dug in deeper.
They all leave you. They all look away. They only came to lock you up.
The flame in Max's palm guttered for a second. It pressed on a bruise inside him he didn't want to touch.
He made it smaller.
One strip at a time, he burned the shadow away from the woman's wrist. It popped like ice in warm water. The freed skin steamed, then cooled.
"Left arm next," Mira said.
"I see it," Max said.
He didn't blink. He didn't breathe deep. He didn't think about the rooftop. About Vanity. About Envy whispering in his sleep. He just focused on the line in front of him.
The shadow learned.
It lunged for Mira.
Mira didn't step back. Her pupils dilated. For a second she looked like she saw something no one else could. The shadow froze mid-attack, shivering, as if something larger stood behind Mira and stared it down.
"Now," she said.
Samira's blade took the tendril clean off. "Thanks, Mari."
"Don't call me that," Mira said, but her voice wasn't harsh.
Max worked the flame across the woman's throat, careful not to touch skin. The whisper tried a new angle.
They'll throw you away when they're done.
He pressed the flame closer.
The last strand snapped.
The shadow recoiled from the woman completely, pooling on the tile like living ink, pulling itself up into a shape. It chose a face.
His.
It wore Max's eyes. It wore his frown. It opened a mouth and let his voice out.
"You don't save anyone," it said. "You just want to be seen."
Samira spat. "Ugly copy."
"Don't listen," Mira said. "Kill it."
Max stepped forward.
The shadow smiled his smile. "How long until they burn you, Max?"
He didn't answer.
He cut it in half.
Green fire traced a clean arc along the floor. The thing folded, screamed without sound, and tried to flee under the rubble.
Mira bent her will and the rubble's shadow became a wall. Samira pinned it with a spike, knives crossing.
"Finish," Mira said.
Max did.
The flame was a line. The line was final.
The shadow crumbled into nothing. The whisper died. The mall went quiet.
Samira blew out a breath. "I hate these ones."
Mira checked the woman's pulse. "Alive. Weak. She'll stabilize."
Max looked down at his hands. No shaking. No ash. Just heat cooling under the skin.
He holstered it.
Samira glanced at him. "Good control."
He nodded. "You too."
"That's right," she said, smirking. Then, softer, "You okay?"
"I'm fine."
Mira cut in. "I guess we're done here."
They carried the woman between them. No one talked on the way out.
Outside, drizzle turned to light rain. The van pulled up. The driver and a medic loaded the woman.
Mira climbed in first. "I'll ride with her."
Samira paused at the door and looked back at Max. "You hungry now?"
"Maybe," he said.
"Good. You're eating," she said, and hopped in.
Max started walking around the van toward the other door.
Someone stepped into his path.
Short. Compact. Spiky crimson hair. A face set in a permanent glare. Dark coat. Gloves. No umbrella. Rain slid off him like it wasn't allowed to touch.
Justice.
His eyes didn't move off Max. Death stare. No greeting.
"Max Hart," Justice said. "You're coming with me."
The rain got louder. Or maybe everything else got quiet.
Samira leaned out of the van. "Uh. No, he's not."
Mira's eyes narrowed from inside. She said nothing.
Justice didn't even glance at them. "Not a request."
Max stood still. "Why."
Justice stepped closer. He was shorter, but the air around him felt taller.
"Evaluation," he said. "And containment. Loyalty doesn't get to lose control of her toy and call it training."
Samira's hand drifted toward her knife. "Say that again."
"Don't," Max said, and she froze mid-reach.
Justice's stare tightened. "You burned Vanity down to shards in minutes. You suppress flames now like it's a dial. That's not a curse. That's ownership."
Max met his eyes. "And if you're wrong?"
"I won't be," Justice said. "Move."
The van door slid fully open. Mira's voice was even. "Where."
"Judiciary wing," Justice said. "You'll get him back if he's clean."
Samira climbed down from the van. "And if he's not?"
Justice's mouth didn't change. "Then I do my job."
Max looked past Justice at the street. At the gray sky. At the way the rain turned everything into mirrors.
He thought about the balcony. About the truth he finally said out loud. About the new goal he hadn't told anyone.
I free them first.
He stepped forward on his own.
"Fine," Max said.
Justice turned on his heel without a word. "Keep up."
Samira grabbed Max's sleeve. "You don't have to go with him."
Max shook his head. "I do."
Mira held his gaze. "Don't let him corner you."
"I won't."
Justice didn't look back. "Now."
Max followed.
The rain swallowed their footprints. The van door slid shut behind him.