The city felt colder than usual.
A breeze swept through the narrow alleys, rustling torn posters and loose sheets of paper, but the chill that gripped the Vex Crew wasn't from the weather. It was fear — sharp, unsettling, creeping into their bones the same way darkness creeps into abandoned streets.
Rade hadn't returned.
There were no messages.
No calls.
No signs.
Just silence.
And silence was always the worst.
Naze paced back and forth under the broken streetlamp, gripping his head with both hands. "Bro, this doesn't make sense! Rade always tells someone where he's going. ALWAYS! Why hasn't anyone heard from him?"
"I told you," another member snapped, "maybe he's hiding. Maybe he ran away because of the police questioning. You know Rade—"
"No," Naze interrupted sharply, anger rising just to cover his fear. "This is different. I feel it. Something is wrong."
The others fell silent.
The Vex Crew might've argued, fought, and made trouble in the streets, but they were loyal to each other. And right now, every single one of them could feel the same heavy truth:
Someone was hunting them.
And whatever it was… it wasn't normal.
----
Far across the rooftops, hidden from street-level eyes, Jex crouched with trembling fingers pressed against the concrete edge.
He could see the Vex Crew arguing below.
He could hear their fear.
He could feel his own.
The Architect's words replayed in his head over and over:
"You will eliminate them. Every last one. If you refuse… you join them."
Jex swallowed hard. The weight of the mission pressed against his chest like a physical burden. He didn't want this. These boys weren't strangers to him — they were his friends. His brothers. The people he used to laugh with, skip school with, joke about teachers with.
But the Architect didn't care about bonds.
To him, they were "loose evidence."
And evidence must be erased.
Jex exhaled shakily and focused on the next target.
Naze.
The one who trusted him the most.
His stomach twisted painfully at the thought.
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the night. "I don't want to do this."
Blue sparks flickered around his fingertips — faint, but deadly. His palms hummed with unstable energy. Every time he used these powers, it felt like they ate a piece of him from the inside.
"Forgive me…"
He stepped back, then leaped silently from rooftop to rooftop, following Naze as he split away from the group.
---
Deep underground, surrounded by cold screens and metallic walls, the Architect stood with arms folded behind his back.
His eyes darted between the monitors.
Kayden's location.
Street cams.
Drone feeds.
Police patrol routes.
And blank zones — areas where the Shadow had previously been detected.
Every detail mattered.
Every movement needed to be tracked.
His workers typed rapidly behind him, watching several screens at once.
"Keep eyes on Kayden," the Architect said calmly. "He's becoming more alert. If he senses a threat too early, the operation becomes messy."
"Yes, sir."
"And the shadow?" he asked, voice tightening slightly.
"No appearances yet, sir."
The Architect breathed out, relieved but cautious.
"That thing… whatever it is… destroyed my drone without touching it." His jaw clenched. "If you catch any visual, any distortion, any anomaly, you inform me directly."
"Yes, Architect."
He turned away, mind shifting to the second problem.
Ragna and the empowered Vex Crew.
He had told them to be patient. He had warned them the city wasn't ready yet — too many eyes, too many risks. They wanted to attack immediately, blinded by new power and emotion, but he forced them to slow down.
And then there were the others… the ones who escaped.
The ones Jex was eliminating.
"Everything must be cleaned," the Architect murmured. "Not a trace left behind."
His cold eyes reflected the glowing screens.
The game had just begun.
---
Kayden's day moved normally — or at least, it pretended to.
He walked home from school with his backpack slung over his shoulder, but every few steps, he stopped and looked around. The uneasiness inside him kept growing, crawling across his chest like a warning.
Something's happening.
Someone's in danger.
Something… terrible.
But the feeling had no direction.
No image.
Just a heavy, suffocating sense that the city around him was shifting in a way he couldn't explain.
He shook his head and kept walking, but the feeling only intensified.
At home, he tried to distract himself — helping with chores, reading, listening to the soft hum of the house. Yet every small sound made him turn sharply. Every shadow made him tense up.
It wasn't fear.
It was intuition.
His body knew something his mind didn't.
He stared out the window, eyes narrowed.
Something was coming.
But when?
Where?
And who?
---
Night fell.
Streetlights flickered.
Naze walked alone, kicking stones across the pavement, frustration still boiling from Rade's disappearance.
"Rade, where are you, bro?" he muttered.
Jex watched from above, heart beating painfully. He remembered standing beside Naze during tough times, laughing with him, dreaming about being something greater.
And now he was stalking him.
"Why must it be him?" Jex whispered, voice cracking.
Electric energy buzzed around his hand again.
But his fingers trembled violently.
He didn't want to kill Naze.
Yet if he didn't obey…
The Architect will kill me… slowly.
Jex shut his eyes tightly, forcing himself to breathe, forcing himself to continue.
He descended from the rooftop, shadows swallowing his shape.
Tonight… there was no turning back.
---
Not far away, one of the Vex Crew members walked toward the old basketball court. Thoughts filled his head — fear, confusion, regret.
He rubbed his arms uncomfortably.
That was when he saw it.
Something blurred the air.
Fast.
Lightning-fast.
A shape — too quick for the eyes — zipped past the street corner.
The boy froze.
"What was that…?"
He squinted into the darkness.
Then he saw another flash — or maybe a shadow — leaping across buildings like it defied gravity.
The boy stepped back, terrified.
Was it a person?
A creature?
A machine?
He quickly pulled out his phone, trying to warn the others.
But by the time he raised it to take a picture…
The figure vanished.
Gone.
As if it melted into the night.
"What… what did I just see…?" he whispered, shaken to the bone.
He didn't even know he was looking at Jex.
And even if he tried to warn them…
Jex was already far, far away.
---
Jex reached an alley where Naze had slowed his steps. The air was thick, the silence deep.
He touched the small device in his ear.
The Architect's voice came through, cold as metal.
"Remember, Jex. No mistakes."
Jex clenched his jaw. "I know…"
"If you expose yourself, if you hesitate, if you allow emotion—"
"I said, I know!"
Silence.
Then:
"Proceed."
The connection cut.
Jex felt his breathing tighten again.
His eyes burned.
"I'm not a monster…" he whispered, voice shaking. "Please, someone… stop me."
But no one came.
No hero.
No friend.
Just the night.
And his orders.
---
Naze entered the narrow alley leading toward the junkyard shortcut. He kicked a loose can out of his way and sighed loudly.
"Rade, when I find you, I'm gonna—"
A soft crackle echoed behind him.
Blue sparks danced in the air.
Naze turned slowly.
Jex stepped into the faint light.
"...Jex?" Naze frowned. "What're you doing here? You scared me."
Jex said nothing.
His heart pounded like a drum inside his chest.
Naze took a step closer. "Bro, what's wrong? You look sick. Did something happen?"
Silence.
The air thickened.
Jex lifted his hand painfully, reluctantly — blue electricity lighting up his palm.
Naze froze.
Confusion shifted into terror.
"Jex… what are you doing?"
Jex's voice cracked like it was breaking apart:
"…I'm sorry."
Before he could strike—
A sound echoed behind Jex.
A footstep.
Slow.
Heavy.
Deliberate.
Jex's eyes widened.
He spun around—
And a dark figure stepped out of the shadows.