I made it a few more blocks, mind still in the clouds planning away, when suddenly, the most soul-stirring violin music graced my ear. It was dim, a bit hard to hear over the mundane street noise, but it was undoubtedly beautiful. Following the angelic notes, I walked down the sidewalk for another minute before I came across a small gaggle of random people gathered at the base of a small brick building, with the words ‘Hotel Hillcrest’ written in golden metal over the entrance. All of them were basking in the music together, looking upward at the roof of the building. Following their gaze, I looked up at the five-story hotel, and could just make out the form of a person standing at the edge of the roof, playing a violin.

With no pressing matters to attend to, I decided to join the group and revel in the gentle caress of music for a bit.

Although I was by no means a connoisseur of classical music, the music the person at the top of the roof was playing was incredible. It carried with it a masterful blend of powerful, potent emotions without letting any overtake the rest. There was a gentle happiness, almost nostalgic somehow, but with it mingled a sense of profound sadness and grief.

Soon, however, the music began to change. The undertone of sadness started to take over the song, growing more and more powerful until it completely drowned out the rest.

The entire song soon transformed into something new, becoming a searing tale of sorrow that made my chest ache. Tears suddenly threatened to overflow and my vision blurred, the overbearing sadness making my knees wobble.

A small part of me knew that what was happening wasn’t normal. It was a total overreaction to a song, especially to a song that I was sure I’d never heard before. But the rest of my body wouldn’t listen. I could feel something deep inside me resonating with the music, my bones telling me that there was more to the song than I realized.

Before I knew what was happening, my feet began to move on their own. Like a spectator in my own body, I watched as I entered the hotel, beelining to the elevator in the corner. The lobby only had a handful of people milling around, and none of them bothered to spare a glance at me. I entered the empty elevator and punched the button with the biggest number.

The doors soon opened, revealing a lush carpeted hallway with doors on each side. Not wasting a second, I quickly darted down the hallway, only stopping when I reached a door with the words ‘Employees Only’ written across it in bold red letters. Ignoring the sign, I kicked open the slightly ajar door. The sight of a dark, musty cleaning closet greeted me. Brooms and mops were strewn across the shelves, along with an assortment of cleaning chemicals.

Not sparing them a second glance, my eyes quickly searched the roof and found what they were looking for: a small square cut into the ceiling with a red handle attached.

With a small hop, I grabbed onto the latch and pulled down, dragging with it the small square and the ladder above it. The sparkling blue of the sky poked through the small hole in the ceiling, confirming that I had found the right place.

Ambling up the ladder, I found myself on a bare concrete roof, adorned with only one of those random metal boxes that seemingly every building had.

Standing right at the edge of the roof was the violin player, a man about my height, wearing a baggy, blackish-blue hoodie and jeans. With the hood over his head and his back to me, that was all I could make out. Beside him lay a wooden pole, with a black gauzy cloth wrapped around the top. His arms moved in a frenzy as he played; a magician casting his spell.

Whatever it was that had possessed me to come to the rooftop decided then that its business had been completed, leaving me standing behind the man with no idea what to do. But, I figured, since I was up here anyway, I might as well speak to the man a little, congratulate him on his skill. A man of his talent deserved that much, at least. So I remained where I stood, letting the time slip by as I lost myself in a trance, the ethereal music floating around me, wrapping me in its emotion.

Only when the music finally stopped did I come back down to reality. Even from my spot on the roof, the sound of applause and cheers reached my ears. I couldn’t help but join in, but I made sure to clap softly to not startle the man off the edge. To my surprise, he couldn’t seem to care less about the danger of standing right at the edge of a five-story tall building, even bending into a graceful gentleman's bow as he basked in his audience's awe. After a minute or so, the clapping finally subsided as the rag-tag audience finally broke up and went their ways.

Only after they left did the man turn around to face me, revealing a tanned, youthful face that couldn't have been much older than I. The kindest smile I’d seen in a long time adorned his sun-kissed face. Two locks of jet-black hair spilled out of his hood and down each cheek, nicely framing his sharp, ever-so-slightly bent nose. I’d seen enough in my day to know that the bend came from a broken nose that had been unprofessionally reset. However, it was his eyes that really caught my attention. Glossed, inky black pools stared back at me, filled with such profound grief it knocked the breath out of me. The intense feeling of loss was palpable, so tangible that I could’ve sworn there was an actual weight resting on my shoulders.

I didn’t know what kind of tragedy could make a person feel such potent emotion, but the fact that he still managed such a gentle smile spoke volumes of his character.

Then, in an instant, the boy blinked and the feeling vanished. Like morning fog under the sun, the oppressive sadness dissipated into the air, traceless, as if it had never been there in the first place. Leaving the two of us simply studying each other.

“Well, hello there,” the boy spoke at last, breaking the odd silence. Although his olive complexion hinted towards a south asian heritage, he spoke with a drawl that marked him as someone who grew up here.

Quickly recovering, I gave the boy a big smile, mirroring his as best I could. “Hi there,” I responded. “Your playing was incredible. It was easily the best music I’ve ever heard in my life.”

“Oh, really? Well, thank you. That truly means a lot,” he said happily. There was a beat of silence as he considered me again. “If I may ask, what are you doing up here?" he asked finally, a small smile playing on the edge of his lips. The question, polite as it was, made me flush in embarrassment, but I quickly hid my reaction. A dozen excuses flew through my head, but they were all flimsy at best. I had no believable reason to be on the rooftop, so I decided to simply go with the truth instead.

"I'm not entirely sure myself," I said with a smile. "Something about your song, I think. It sounded oddly familiar."

The boy looked surprised at that, but strangely not disbelieving. "Hmm, that's interesting. The song is actually an original, so I can't imagine where you would have heard it before."

My eyes widened at that information. "You created that song yourself? I don't know much about music and stuff, but that sounds very impressive."

The boy laughed modestly, waving the compliment off. "Oh, it's nothing quite so difficult. The right kind of inspiration can make the most beautiful art as easy as a few strokes." The boy paused to consider me again, before sighing and placing his violin and bow down beside him. "You know, maybe it was fate that brought you up here today. I have to say, I think I needed the company." As he spoke, he lowered himself down on the edge of the building, sitting with his back to me and his legs dangling some fifty feet in the air. "Why don't you come join me? The scenery is quite breathtaking from up here – or so I hear."

The choice of words caught my attention, but I decided against questioning it at the moment. "That place doesn't look very safe," I remarked instead, not moving from where I stood.

The boy threw a teasing smile over his shoulder at my hesitation. “Oh come on. What are you scared of?” he asked.

“I don’t know, dying maybe?”

The boy let out a small, merry laugh. “You've got nothing to fear. You look like someone meant for something greater than falling from some building. There's no way you'd die here. It just doesn't make sense.”

I raised an eyebrow at his very faulty logic, but the boy adamantly kept up his self-satisfied smile, as if what he just said had made perfect sense.

Shaking my head as a chuckle escaped me, I gave in and made my way over to where the boy was sitting, dropping myself beside him.

And immediately sucked in a breath as I finally, really took in the view. It was incredible. With our vantage point, we could almost see the entire downtown. The cityscape sprawled out in all directions, a concrete labyrinth under our dangling feet. The arrow-straight streets that drew grid-like patterns through the city crawled with the reds, grays, whites, and blacks of cars. The people that clogged the sidewalks seemed tiny as ants as they scurried about, all in a rush.

It was thrilling, to say the least.

“You think this is good, you should see it at night. Whole ‘nother level, I hear,” the boy commented as he heard my reaction.

“I don’t doubt it,” I responded, imagining what the sight would look like under the cover of the night.

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A moment of comfortable silence fell upon us as the both of us soaked in the peace of the moment.

After a minute or two, I cleared my throat, breaking the silence. “So…” I began, before trailing off as I tried to figure out how to phrase my question.

“Am I blind?” The boy finished for me, a teasing lilt to his voice.

I nodded, looking at him curiously.

“Yup. Blind as a bat, I am. But I’ve long gotten around it.” He gave me a small smile. “So don’t worry about me. I can more than take care of myself.”

“You can’t see and you can still play so well? That’s impressive.”

“I know. And you know what’s even more impressive?” He asked in a secretive tone.

“Do tell.”

“I haven’t even run into a wall in almost a week.”

I let out a surprised bark of laughter at his joke, caught off guard. The boy joined in with me, chuckling at his own joke.

“So how'd you learn how to play, then? If you can't see,” I asked.

The boy smiled. “You can learn almost anything you want, even if you're blind. You just need a teacher with enough patience.” A tinge of melancholy touched his face again as he spoke.

“Oh,” I responded in a small voice, unsure if the question I had asked was indelicate.

“So, what are you doing these days?” I finally asked, after a moment. “High school?”

The boy shook his head. “No, never had the chance to go to a normal school. As for what I’m doing these days? I’m not entirely sure right now. I’m sort of in a transition phase. I just finished up with something that took up a major part of my life, and now that I’m done, I don’t really know what to do anymore.” He paused for a second. “What about you? You seemed very happy when you got here. Something happen?”

I smiled smugly at that. “Yeah, you can say that. You’ll never believe it, but just before I came up here, I stole almost a million dollars from some underground business.”

The boy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, but again, I saw no sign of disbelief. “You stole a million dollars? From some shady business? You?”

“Yeah, I did. And what’s that supposed to mean, ‘you’?” I responded, my glare daring him to explain exactly what that meant. But apparently, I didn’t intimidate him in the least.

“I dunno, I’m just surprised someone as small as you was able to rob a place that certainly has hired thugs, if not worse.”

I snorted indignantly. Although, in all fairness, he was right. I was quite lean in form, and I certainly didn’t boast much in height either. At 5’7, I was dwarfed by most proper fighters. But still, I was irked that he pointed it out.

“Well, I’ll have you know that despite my size, I’m quite a capable fighter,” I said.

“I don’t doubt it,” the boy said, backing off. “But anyway, let’s hear the story, I’m quite interested.”

I grinned, satisfied now. “Well, it all began three hundred wins ago. I needed some money, and I needed training. So, being the genius I am, I decided to kill two birds with one stone, and made a deal with some low branch managing Don at the Fight House. Thirty thousand for three hundred wins. I got ten grand as a down payment, and I was to collect the rest after I completed my fights. And complete my fights I did. Three hundred wins against various thugs and even some professional fighters. But when I went to get my money, I ran into a little problem. The Don, being the idiot he is, tried to keep the money he owed me for himself…” I went on, describing in vivid – and possibly embellished – detail how I thrashed the Flux mage and other bodyguards that Craw had thought would keep him safe.

By the time I was done, the boy was grinning ear to ear in delight. “I gotta say, that was one of the best stories I’ve ever heard in my life,” he said, wiping a tear from his eye as he laughed, and I couldn’t help but join in with him. His laugh was infectious.

“You know they’re never gonna let you go after this right? They’ll throw everything they have at you,” the boy said finally.

“Oh, they can come. I’ve got a plan, and I’m not scared of some second-rate criminals,” I said, oozing confidence.

The boy smiled at that. “That’s the spirit. But what are you gonna do with all that money? I don't get the feeling that you want to use it to spend the rest of your life in luxury."

I nodded. “You’re right. I’ve got big plans. I’m gonna make my own organization. I’m going to gather up talented people that I trust and make a global superpower. Something that can go toe to toe with giants like Razacon or Niaz.”

The boy whistled when he heard that. “Ambitious, but I like it.”

I smiled at his reaction. Most people would have scoffed and told me to step back to reality. And I knew that from experience.

“Of course, I’ll have to start small. Just the streets of Toronto should do for now.”

The boy nodded in understanding, and I couldn’t help but imagine what someone would think if they saw the two of us. Two kids with no connections talking about creating global superpowers, treating the streets of Toronto as a simple stepping stone and not something that countless powerful individuals had dedicated their lives to conquering.

“What’s your end goal, though?” the boy asked suddenly. "Sure, having an organization like that will come with heaps of fame and money, but you can get that a lot of other ways as well. Not to mention, goals like fame and money are hard to define, really. When will you know that you've accomplished your goal? When will you be satisfied?"

Caught off guard by the depth of his question, I stared at the boy for a second, before shifting my gaze down to my hands, thinking. “My end goal, huh?" I went silent again. "I guess what I want is never to feel weak again. I’ll keep working until there isn’t a single person in the world that can force me to do something I don’t feel like doing, or take something away from me that I don’t feel like giving.” I took in a deep breath. “I want to know beyond a shadow of a doubt that there is no one on the planet who could overpower me.”

The boy nodded thoughtfully at my answer. “That’s a good reason.”

I gave him a questioning look. “How so?”

“Because it’s a reason that won’t let you give up. If you were after strength for money or fame, as long as something sufficiently difficult came around, you’d give up. But with a reason like that, setbacks will only increase your drive. It's the kind of motivation that'll actually take you far.”

“Wow,” I said, thinking his words over. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.” And he hadn’t struck me as someone who would think like that, either. Not that I would ever say that to his face.

But then he ruined the effect by continuing, giving me a serious nod. “Yeah, I don't blame you. Not everyone can be as smart as me.”

I barked a laugh at his unexpectedly narcissistic reply. “You’re an interesting person, I gotta say.”

“Right back at you,” the boy replied, gazing off into the horizon with a soft smile on his face.

Mirroring his smile, I turned forward and took in the view again as we settled back into silence.

As I watched the people so far down below us walking around, an idea suddenly struck.

Excitedly, I looked up again at the boy. “Hey, why don’t you join me? You said you don’t have anything going on right now, right?”

The boy looked at me in surprise. “Really? Even with my eyes?”

“Yeah, of course. I’ll be honored if you would be my First Lieutenant. And you said so yourself, you haven’t run into a wall in almost a week. Clearly, you can handle yourself.”

“Sure,” the boy answered. “It would be my pleasure to be your First Lieutenant. I was looking for something fun to do, and I can tell beyond a shadow of a doubt that anywhere you go, fun is bound to follow.”

“Are you sure?” Although I was through the roof to have found my first member, I still felt like I should warn him about what he was joining. “If you follow me, you’re definitely gonna make serious enemies. I already have the Fight House after me, and I’m just getting started. The enemies we’re gonna make are going to be much more powerful, and just as bent on killing us.”

After hearing my warning, the boy simply grinned. “Like I said, anywhere you go, fun will follow. And as long as you stay fun, you’ll have my undying loyalty.” As the boy spoke, he solemnly put his fist over his heart. I couldn’t help but crack up as I looked at the boy’s serious face. Hearing my laugh, the boy quickly dropped his act and grinned at me.

“Well then, welcome aboard. My name is Ruby. Ruby Redthorn,” I said as I put out my hand.

Still grinning, the boy grasped my hand in a firm handshake. “And I’m Ren. It’s a pleasure.”

“Well then, let’s get a move on. We’ve got a world to stun and no time to do it,” I said as I sprang to my feet, my excitement almost dizzying.

“You’re the boss,” Ren said as he followed me up, packing up his violin in its case and picking up his wooden pole. “By the way, what is the plan?”

“Simple. Our first step is to find some small, third-rate gang with a stable foothold in Toronto. We don’t want something too big for us to manage, but also not something too small and recent that they aren’t even established. Then we find their leader and beat him till he gives us his gang. And then, we build up that gang until we have undisputed control over Toronto’s streets,” I spoke enthusiastically, laying out the plan as the two of us made our way back into the building and out onto the street. “Once we’ve solidified our hold on Toronto, I’ll take the ranking at IOR and get us registered as an official gang. After that, the plan is more vague. We’ll simply keep expanding and getting stronger until we reach the level we need to take on any org on the planet. After that, I have no idea.”

Ren was practically beaming by the time I finished my plan. “I knew I wouldn’t regret joining you, Ruby. I don’t know how it happened, but somehow, you just weren’t made with the same restrictions as most people. Most people won’t even seriously consider accomplishing even a part of what you want to accomplish, but you’re entirely ready to throw yourself into getting it.” Ren shook his head in wonder. “Honestly, I don’t know how you do it.”

I smiled at his words. I didn’t know if he meant them as a compliment, but I certainly took them as one.

“I just don’t see the point in aiming for something less than the highest. And I’m not an idiot. I’m well aware that the chances of me dying on the way are very, very high. But I’m fine with that. I have to die anyway, so I might as well do it on my own terms.”

Ren nodded thoughtfully at that. “Well, let’s hope you don’t die anytime soon, or else I’ll have to find something else to do for fun. And that would be a pain.”

I barked out another laugh, the bluntness of his response catching me off guard. After dealing with people like Craw for so long, it was refreshing to have someone speak exactly what they thought to me.

Taking a deep breath as the two of us walked down the busy sidewalks, I felt the familiar feeling of anticipation rising up in my chest. This was the beginning of something great; I could feel it in my bones.