I pushed myself off the bike and ran in. Everything that I thought before this moment spilled right out of my head. My carefully thought out plans, how I’d deal with Tristan—none of it mattered compared to this. The house was a complete wreck—what little we had was gone. Even the dinner table we spent so many nights clustered together had been torn into pieces. Tristan had pushed the heel of his shoe on the neck of a street rat.

Ma sat in the middle of the living room, her eyes ringed red. There was a bruise on her face but she was thankfully otherwise unharmed. What worried me the most was the broken expression I’d never seen on her. Slowly, she looked at me. “Luca.”

I didn’t know what to say or how to reassure her. Where was Alex?

Her expression morphed from sadness to anger. A single finger rose and pointed at me. “Y-you did this.”

“What?”

“They came in! I knew it, and I knew you were getting yourself into trouble—just like your father for so long. And I—“ she choked back another sob; her whole body shuddered. Ice ran through my veins. I lost control of my breath. “I went and made the same mistake. I should’ve been firmer, pressed into your life. I… I was weak, pretended the problems weren’t there because I didn’t want to confront them and drive you away!”

A horrible mix of snot and tears ran down her face. Hurt stabbed me to the core as she stared at me. I’d broken her through my actions. Why hadn’t I come back here first? Why did I think Tristan wouldn’t target my family? I hated myself. I wanted to claw my own heart out and offer it to the Immortals to beg them to set things right.

“Ma—I’m sorry. I’m sorry! Where’s Alex? I have some friends, and we can—“

“He’s not here, Luca. We’ve lost everything… I’ve lost everything, even you. To this life.”

“What d'ya mean he aint here? He at school? C’mon we need to—“ Fear hung thick over my head. I didn’t want to believe what I knew.

“They took him. A gang. That’s what you’re involved with, isn’t it? That’s the people you’ve been spending all your time with this year? Immortals—why. Why. Why does this have to happen to me twice!” Ma screamed out before erupting into another fit of tears. Each sob was like Tristan’d taken a knife and shoved it right into my chest. I stood helpless as she wept in the same house she’d worked so hard to make our home. My eyes drifted about, landing on a broken photo of the four of us. “Go! Get out of here. I don’t want to see you! Don’t you come back!”

I backed away, my hand on my heart. Everything crashed in on me. She was entirely in the right to blame me—I couldn’t even turn to my Uncle to help sort this out since he’d left town and I lost my phone. And the only reason he was gone was that he’d spent so long helping me. All the risks, all of my selfish actions—this was the consequence.

In my arrogance, I’d thought that the only downsides would fall on my shoulders. Even in my worst nightmares, I didn’t picture my choices coming back to hurt the ones I loved. I’d ruined them. I’d broken my own family like a childish small-brained idiot.

All I had left was hate. Pure self-hate. The little brother I’d sworn to protect had gotten dragged away and was in the hands of a psychopathic murderer.

I couldn’t even blame Tristan. Even if he was the one at fault, He’d facilitated this, sure. But does one blame the card dealer when they play themselves into a bad hand and made the bet?

I stumbled to my bike, tears running hot down my face. I was lost, and there wasn’t anything that’d fix this mess. Might as well surrender myself to Tristan and submit to death. If I did, would he let poor little Alex go? My bike kicked to life, and I shot off down the street.

There needed to be as much distance from me and that house as I could manage.

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I cut the engine of my bike. The red shrine of the Stalwart Immortal loomed in the distance. It was a slow walk to it, and I got strange looks from the mortals checking out my bloodied and torn kimono. Even though this park was typically quiet, the Lantern Festival changed that. The majority of the people wore the same traditional garbs as me, paying their respects to the Immortals and partaking in the variety of food stalls littering all the parks in the city. This was an excuse for people to get out, reflect, and enjoy their lives.

Normally a very joyful occasion.

It hadn’t been that way for me for quite some time. When I was a child, I’d headed to all sorts of parks for the Lantern Festival—tagging along with Alex. We’d never had kimono to wear, but our own ‘nice’ clothes, like button-ups. Our mother and father made it a point to take us every year.

The ghost of my father tainted the holiday for me.

We’d stopped going after he’d died: the festivals lost their charm. While Alex and Ma mourned, I’d resented him for leaving. I didn’t understand why he suddenly disappeared.

I stood in front of the lacquered shrine, staring at the jade statue of the Stalwart Immortal. People kept a healthy distance. Funny how no one wanted to deal with some psycho rocking up in bloody clothing. But, there wasn’t anywhere better for me to go. My very Soul ached with the pain I’d caused. Out of anything I could’ve done in this world, hurting those two was the one thing I’d never wanted to see. I’d never wanted my fate to go down a path like this.

Alex was in danger, in the hands of a man who killed in cold blood.

Bruno, the first guy I’d called my friend after so many years alone, was about to become a cripple on behalf of some spoiled Sect brat.

My mother was a wreck in the house she’d slaved away to pay for with everything taken from her for a second time.

I lowered myself to my ground, touching my head to the concrete. A traditional gesture to the Immortals. One signaling fealty and the weakness of mortals beneath those that have seen the heavens. I’d never respected the old traditions and ignored the pointless chiding around me. These silly rituals seemed so far removed from everyday life.

But now? Now I could only render myself unto the moment.

I raised my head before once more kowtowing to the statue. I’d lost it. My Soul burned like a fucking fire. Tristan shoved a knife deeper into me than if he’d stabbed me on the day he’d killed Captain Till.

I brought my eyes level to the statue once more, taking in the bald head of the Immortal it represented.

Did it matter if I died throwing myself at Tristan? Nothing mattered if I left Alex and Ma permanently damaged by my reckless actions. I’d thought of myself as an Immortal. So confident in my new power that I’d all but dismissed Tristan as a threat. I’d trained so hard. Fought with my life at stake more than I could count. But the power hadn’t been the answer to my problems. I’d been broken, dumb, and useless for so long. Broken the same way our household had been since my dad died.

Alex and Ma had done their best to repair our home, but I’d never lifted a finger.

Those beady eyes of the statue stared back at me. Dead. It was nothing more than a hunk of jade that we paid respect to for his part in the War of the Eclipse. An Immortal passed on from this world.

They said he stood against the Demonic Immortals assaulting the Rising Sun for a month. Blow after blow, and he didn’t give an inch of ground; through his sacrifice, he earned enough times for the rest of the then loose coalition of Sects. He’d suffered countless injuries. But he’d bought them the time they needed to gather a holy relic and push the Demonic Sect back. He’d suffered too much damage and ascended to the heavens rather than die on Earth.

His story was a stark reminder that Immortals and Mortals alike would pass one day. Immortals just had the advantage of choosing when that time was, rather than having it imposed on them by the earth.

I could wallow here and beg for judgment or forgiveness from a silent Immortal all day. I could count all the mistakes in my head that brought me to this moment.

Every second I spent here was another that left Alex in the hands of Tristan. Another second closer to having my best friend take another step towards being a cripple. And more tears my mother shed alone. I pushed myself up from the ground, feeling the keen weight of the Stalwart Immortal’s judgment.

He couldn’t help me.

There was only one person that might direct my fate. It wasn’t some long passed Immortal; it wasn’t my Uncle, hell it wasn’t even the Divine up above. My Soul settled.

I’d go to Kayson. I didn’t have the insights or ability to logic my way around and predict Tristan’s moves. I didn’t have the strength to face him in a straight conflict with his Division backing him. Alone, I’d get tired, wounded, and worn down until I died. But Suzaki could cure those wounds. Eve could drive us forward and cheer us on. Bruno could punch that fucker in the face and give me an opening to slam my fist into his gut. And Kayson would help orchestrate it all.

I could choose my fate, but it was my friends that would help me make it happen.