Morning came with a sky choked in smoke.
Fred stood outside the battered hideout, watching the city slowly awaken beneath a veil of ash. The fire they had started last night had devoured more than just Selene's black site—it had ignited the city's hidden rot.
There were whispers already.
Of betrayals.
Of bodies pulled from the river.
Of an empire trembling at its roots.
Fred breathed in the burnt air, feeling it coat his lungs.
It wasn't victory he tasted.
It was the bitter, metallic tang of war.
Behind him, Mira patched a deep gash on her arm, wincing but silent.
Neither spoke much.
Words felt... small compared to what they had done.
They had drawn blood.
The problem was, blood always demanded more blood.
And Selene would not forgive.
Nor forget.
---
They were packing to move again—burn phones, black bags, emergency cash—when there was a knock at the door.
A soft, deliberate knock.
Fred and Mira froze.
No one should know they were here.
Weapons drawn, they crept toward the door.
Another knock—three taps, a pause, two taps.
Fred's heart skipped.
He knew that pattern.
He hadn't heard it in years.
He cracked the door open, gun raised—
—and froze.
Standing there, looking worn but very much alive, was a man Fred thought he'd buried long ago.
"Uncle Reeve," Fred breathed.
The man smiled, a lopsided grin that didn't reach his eyes.
"You're harder to find than a ghost in a snowstorm," Reeve rasped.
"Mind letting your favorite dead relative in before the snipers find me?"
Fred blinked, lowered his gun, and stepped aside.
Mira stared, wary.
Reeve stepped inside, dropping a duffel bag on the floor with a metallic clank.
"You've stirred up a hornet's nest, boy," he said, peeling off his gloves. "Selene's losing her mind. Specter's nursing wounds he never thought he could get. You two did good."
Fred frowned.
"How do you know about Specter?"
Reeve's smile faded.
Because he knew.
Because Reeve had been part of the same world Fred had tried to escape.
And now, the past was crashing back with a vengeance.
---
They sat at the rickety table, the black drive Mira had stolen lying between them.
Reeve tapped a cigarette against the table but didn't light it.
Instead, he looked Fred dead in the eye.
"Selene's empire isn't just about drugs, weapons, or blackmail," he said.
"It's about inheritance."
Fred stiffened.
Mira frowned.
"Inheritance?"
Reeve nodded grimly.
"Selene isn't building an empire for herself. She's building it for her successor. Someone she's been grooming in secret. Someone bigger, darker than anything you've seen."
Fred's hands curled into fists.
"Who?"
Reeve leaned back, voice dropping low.
"You."
The room seemed to tilt sideways.
Mira's mouth fell open.
Fred stared, numb.
"No," he said automatically.
"You think she let you live all those years for free?" Reeve said, almost pitying.
"You're the ace up her sleeve. The weapon no one expects. You were never just a mistake she overlooked. You were her investment."
Fred felt the walls closing in.
The experiments.
The training.
The shadows he could never quite escape.
It all made horrible, perfect sense.
"You're lying," he whispered.
Reeve shook his head.
"Check the drive. It's all there. Her files. Her plans. Your name."
Fred stared at the black drive like it might explode.
Mira leaned forward, voice sharp.
"If this is true, we need to move faster. Hit her harder. End it before she forces Fred into her game."
Reeve's smile was grim.
"Kid, you're already in the game."
--
Later that night, Fred sat alone in the abandoned rooftop, the city sprawled beneath him like a wounded animal.
He thought about the life he had tried to build.
The people he had tried to protect.
And realized they had always been standing on a trapdoor.
Selene had never really lost him.
She had just waited.
Waited for him to come back into the fold.
To become the monster she needed.
Fred stared at the stars.
He made a decision.
If Selene wanted her heir...
She was going to choke on the ashes of the boy she tried to own.
He wasn't her weapon.
He wasn't her legacy.
He was the bullet aimed at her heart.
---