The Hypersport cut through the misty morning streets like a black knife, devouring miles of road in minutes.
Elian's hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles pale against the dark leather. Beside him, Sophie sat stiffly, glancing nervously at the city whirling by.
"Elian... we have to think," she said softly. "This... this can't be real. It's too much. It's dangerous."
Elian didn't respond.
His mind was a storm.
Every pothole they hit, every billboard flashing by, every honk of a taxi seemed to scream the same thing:
You don't belong here. You're a mistake.
But the car, the AI, the black card—they said something else.
You were always meant for more.
Ava's voice broke the silence inside the car. "Mr. Frost, a safehouse has been prepared. Would you like me to guide you?"
Elian hesitated.
He glanced at Sophie. She looked terrified, but she nodded anyway.
He swallowed hard. "Yeah. Take me there."
The GPS screen lit up, a golden line tracing their path deep into the city's abandoned industrial district.
As they drove, Sophie began whispering about their classmates.
How Jeremy and his crew would laugh themselves sick if they saw Elian now, driving a car that cost more than the entire high school combined.
How Kylie and her Girls' Club would spread rumors that he had stolen it.
How even the teachers would find some way to humiliate him for it.
Because in their eyes, Elian was never supposed to have more.
He was supposed to stay broken. Quiet. Invisible.
Elian pressed the gas harder.
Sophie noticed his clenched jaw, his burning eyes, and fell silent.
---
They arrived at a crumbling warehouse that looked abandoned from the outside.
Steel doors groaned open automatically as they approached, revealing a sleek underground garage filled with luxury cars—Ferraris, Bugattis, Lamborghinis—all polished to perfection under cold blue lights.
In the center of it all stood a figure.
Tall, wrapped in a black coat that shimmered like oil under the lights, a wide-brimmed hat shadowing their face.
Ava's voice chimed again. "Welcome to Facility 7, Mr. Frost."
Elian parked and climbed out, muscles tense.
The figure stepped forward, and when the light finally caught his face, Elian froze.
The man was no older than thirty, with sharp green eyes and a cruel smile.
"Elian Frost," he drawled. "The prodigal son... finally awakens."
"Who are you?" Elian demanded.
The man chuckled, low and menacing. "You can call me Cain. I'm your... handler."
Handler?
The word coiled around Elian's mind like a snake.
"I don't need a handler," he spat.
Cain only laughed. "Oh, but you do. You see, Elian, your bloodline comes with obligations. Power... is never given for free."
Before Elian could react, Cain tossed something at his feet.
A heavy iron chain.
It clattered loudly on the polished floor.
Elian stared down at it, his heart pounding.
"You are chained, boy," Cain said softly, voice dripping with malice. "To a past you don't remember. To debts you didn't create. And to enemies you can't even imagine."
He circled Elian like a predator sizing up prey.
"You think this car, this card, this little taste of luxury means you're free?" Cain sneered. "It's just a leash. A prettier one."
Sophie edged closer to Elian, her hands trembling.
Elian clenched his fists so hard that his nails bit into his palms.
Cain leaned in, his breath hot against Elian's ear. "You're a dog, Frost. The only question is... whose dog will you be?"
For a moment, Elian wanted to lash out, to tear Cain apart with his bare hands.
But then he remembered the pain.
The loneliness.
The laughter of his classmates.
The jeers from teachers who said he would "never be anything."
No.
Not anymore.
He lifted his chin, meeting Cain's mocking gaze.
"I'll be nobody's dog," he said coldly. "Not yours. Not anyone's."
Cain's smile widened, like a shark scenting blood.
"Good," he said. "That's exactly what they want."
Before Elian could ask who they were, Cain snapped his fingers.
Dozens of screens lit up around the garage, showing live footage of his high school, the campus, the city — every piece of Elian's old, miserable world.
And in the center of it all, blinking slowly, was a red target.
Right over Elian's name.
TARGET ACQUIRED: ELIAN FROST
Cain leaned back, hands clasped behind his back.
"Welcome to the hunt," he whispered.
And then he was gone.
The lights snapped off. The screens vanished.
Leaving Elian and Sophie standing alone in the dark, with only the soft hum of the Hypersport behind them... and the chains still lying at their feet.
---