That night, a faint vibration crawled up from the soles of my feet as I opened the front door.
The nails in the walls rang softly.
A spoon in the kitchen trembled.
“Mom? Dad?”
No answer.
I walked toward their room.
Two men in upper-family uniforms stood inside.
Father was seated on the floor.
Mother was forced to kneel.
“Target confirmed,” one of them said. “Family of an iron user.”
“Let them go,” I said.
Rough laughter followed.
“And what are you going to do, monster?”
I closed my eyes.
Blood burst into the air.
Bodies fell.
My hands shook as Mother wrapped her arms around me.
Sirens wailed again—closer this time.
The front door opened.
Jenny Zarq stood there.
“You’re coming with me,” she said. “Or they’ll come back.”
I looked at my parents.
“We’re leaving,” I said.
Jenny nodded.
And that night,
I officially became a fugitive of the kingdom.