Home sweet home. Cyrus stood in front of the place he was raised, a square grey house alongside the other grey square houses. He entered the password for the gates, hoping it didn't change. It didn't, so he went to the black door, knocking on it and putting his hands behind his back afterward.

"Darci, are we expecting anyone?" A voice asked within the house. Even his father's distant voice was enough to make him fix his posture.

The door opened, and the tall man looked down at Cyrus, his eyes becoming somehow even more narrow when he saw who it was, his wrinkles folding in the shape of a frown.

"Ah, Cyrus." He said calmly, wearing a smart looking pair of jeans and a navy dress shirt. "I suppose you won that television thing?"

"They're allowing us to stay home for a couple of days. Hence the guard."

"I see." Cyrus dad nodded. "Well, your mother is about to make a start on dinner, so I suppose you can stay a while. Your guard companion too."

"Thank you, Oliver Holden!" The masked guard spluttered out.

Cyrus looked into the living room. The wooden floor with a nice blue carpet by the white felt sofa leaning against the charcoal-coloured walls. In place of a television was a bookshelf, with all the books on history well read and worn out.

"Woah, is this the room your dad hangs out in?" The guard asked, walking into the living room, and frantically looking around.

"Yes?" Cyrus replied. "Or his room, but I don't think he'd let us in there."

The guard went to the bookshelf, scanning all the books until he found what he was looking for.

"Oh Nova, is this his biography?" They asked. "You think he could sign my copy?"

"Yeah, he probably would. He'd love the ego boost." Cyrus sighed.

"Awesome." They replied, almost falling over.

"How about you go do that? I'll go look in my old room."

Cyrus went up the stairs to see his old room. His bed alongside all his old trophies were gone, the wall it was against showing printed articles about his brother's achievements. A crime stopped here, an assassination prevented there, all the good stuff. In fact, the article about the failed assassination showed him proudly displaying the severed head of the man who attempted it. In retrospect, the way his accomplishments were reported was somewhat…tacky. He would lay on his brother's bed, but he almost certainly wouldn't survive that, so he moved to the living room and lay on the couch until his mother announced that dinner was ready.

He moved to the kitchen to see the guard without his helmet, looking enraptured at his father's stories. The one about powering through five assassins on level two. Because it seemed like all he did. He sat down, and his mother presented him with her chicken stir-fry. Her favourite. She sat next to him, and his father sat across from him on the wooden table.

"So, Cyrus. How's the game going?" His mother asked calmly as she ate her food.

"It's going…well enough, I guess. I'm still alive."

"You know, I heard from one of the girls at work that you tried to kill the leader of the Rosethorns."

"I did try, yes. It didn't work."

"Well, I think it's nice that you're making an attempt at fixing injustice."

"It'd be nicer if he kept his head down and didn't end up there." His father coldly interjected, which his mother nodded at.

"You do know what I did, right?" Cyrus asked, trying to be as polite as possible.

"Unfortunately, yes." His father glared at him. "Murder of two of the Nova-Springs."

"Correct." Cyrus nodded.

"And that Valentina Nova-Vico lady helped with that, correct?"

"I feel the need to mention that they attempted to kill Valentina." Cyrus replied. "Protection of the Novas is the objective of the Nova guard, correct? It's in the name."

"At the cost of more Novas?" His father yelled, raising his voice. "If this was self-defence, then why didn't you subdue them and report them?"

"They already cut Valentina's arm off! I didn't have a choice!"

"Recording and submitting. That was the correct choice."

"And just letting her die?"

"Yes. The alternative was letting her die in their little game." His father said coldly.

"That's what happened yesterday, apparently." His mother sighed. "Real shame, she seemed like such a nice girl."

"Can't be so nice if that's where she ended up." His father replied. "Honestly, killing someone like her early was probably the best move."

Cyrus looked at his father as he let those words out of his mouth. This man honestly thought that his own son would lie about the situation?

"She was more of a leader than you could ever dream of being." Cyrus said calmly, trying not to spit the venom building up in the back of his throat.

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"Well aware." His father said calmly. "But our roles are as bodyguards, and you failed. And in terms of leaders, she was an exceptionally poor example. Too focused on trying to please everyone, giving handouts to the people on the lower levels."

"What, do they not deserve at least a little?" Cyrus asked.

"Look, they have the resources to crawl out of their shitholes and make a name for themselves on the proper levels, but they just sit on their asses and whine about how the Novas aren't doing enough."

Cyrus heard enough. Before he could make another stupid remark, he leapt over the table and punched his father in the face. His father's ability was hardening, so it didn't do anything. It wouldn't. he knew that. But what he needed to do was let his father know what he deserved. As he fell past him, his hand hurt as if he punched a rock. Were it not for his own powers, his hand would be broken.

"Get out." Were the only words his father uttered.

"Whatever you say, old man." Cyrus muttered as he turned and left, with the guard following him with a disappointed look.

"Hey, are you really leaving?" He asked.

"For what it's worth, Johnny, you're my second son now."

"Wait, I am?" The guard asked with pleasant surprise.

Cyrus slammed the door hoping to break it. But the damn thing was sturdy.

"So, what are we doing now?" The guard asked, looking longingly at the door.

"Like I know." Cyrus scorned. "I'm gonna see if I can buy anything."

Cyrus passed through the city, effortlessly making his way through the maze of high buildings on his way to the market shop. A short and stout little building, perfect for all your simple snack needs. As he entered the building, the old lady behind the counter greeted him, her small black eyes opening slightly when she saw Cyrus.

"Oh, hello darling!" She spoke. "How's the job going?"

"Well enough, I suppose." Cyrus sighed. "Pretty tiring."

He made a coffee and picked out some Wayfarer brand potato chips. Spring onion and sour cream flavour, naturally. He popped his items on the counter, and the old woman scanned both of them, spilling a small bit of coffee as she did.

"That's 6 tua, darling."

"Sure thing." Cyrus sighed, taking out his watch. Wait, these coins he got in the game were pretty much worthless, weren't they?

"Hey, do you have money?" He whispered to the guard.

"No I do not." The guard answered slowly.

"Sorry miss, but I'll need to put these back."

The sound of a coin hitting the counter was heard, and a familiar voice went "Keep the change, miss!"

"But this is a fifty tua coin, sir." She replied, dumbfounded.

"Hey, I just got paid!" The voice continued. "So anyway, how ya doing, Cyrus?"

"Well enough, William." Cyrus sighed, not bothering to look back.

"Oh my goodness, William Holden?" The guard gasped. "I'm like, your biggest fan!"

"Hey, nice to hear!" William replied, taking Cyrus coffee cup. "Need me to sign anything?"

"That, please." Cyrus sighed again and made himself another coffee. Of all the things to change lately, William remained the only constant, for whatever that was worth. Same height of 'a full head above him', same love of plain metallic grey t-shirts, same unruly dark brown hair.

"So, William." Cyrus said. "What brings you here?"

"Well, all the Nova Families are staying locked in to discuss something, so I don't have anything to do! So I'm gonna ramble around a little and see who's up to no good."

"Makes sense." Cyrus nodded while internally screaming. 'Days off are for not working, you idiot! Get into painting or something, what's wrong with you!?'

"So anyway, I'll see you later!" William took a chocolate bar and walked out of the store.

Cyrus walked out with the guard. William was merrily prancing throughout the city. If he didn't know William, he would just think him as a happy man. Or someone on drugs.

But he did know William. And he knew he was on the hunt.

He ran in the same direction without telling the guard, running into a different street. When the paths connected, he looked to his right, where William was with another person lying face down on the ground. Cyrus slowly walked up to him and the dying man, who's blood was spilling onto the path. William took his phone out alongside a small bag of white powder, taking a selfie with him holding it.

"So, what's all this then?" Cyrus asked, remaining completely stone faced while asking.

"Hm? Found this kid with drugs, so I took care of him."

"Kid?" Cyrus asked. The nonchalant façade struggled a bit, but Williams didn't notice anything.

"He looked gauntlet age, anyway." He shrugged. "But anyway, took the selfie for the records, you know how it is."

"I do, yeah." Cyrus replied calmly.

"But anyway, this man only had a little baggie here, and he was running. Seems a tad suspicious, so I'm gonna go look for anyone else, kay?"

"Need me to help?" Cyrus asked quickly.

"Aw, heck yeah man!" William yelled, merrily raising his hands to the sky. "Brother team up, heck yeah!" He sang the last two words of the sentence.

"Alright." Cyrus nodded, glancing to his left. "I think I saw someone sneak past there. You should check it out."

"You got it!" William sprinted off, using the back bones of his feet for a quicker start.

Cyrus himself began sprinting through the streets. The few people walking around looked like ordinary people, just on dates or taking night time strolls. The only person who looked mildly suspicious was a man in a white hoodie, who ran in the opposite direction once he spotted him. Cyrus gave chase, weaving through the few people walking around, shooting bone fragments out of his knuckles to corner the man. Once he managed to get him into an alleyway behind a restaurant, he started talking.

"Are you okay, sir?" Cyrus asked.

"Uh, yeah?" The man squeaked out. He looked slightly older than him, with tired eyes and stubbly hair left from poor shaving.

"Good, good." Cyrus nodded.

"Hey, did you catch him?"

Cyrus looked up, and William was above him, hanging onto a building by digging his finger bones into it. He hopped down, looking the terrified man in the eyes with his vacant smile.

"Relax, William." Cyrus said, stepping between them. "We have no proof yet, so let me take care of this. Go in the streets and keep an eye out for anyone else."

"Can do!" William merrily ran into the streets at full speed.

"Now then, sir." Cyrus started, removing his cap to display his brand. "I happen to be looking for a drug dealer, would that happen to be you?"

The man looked at him with fear, but took off his hoodie, showing the plastic bags of various substances poorly taped to his shirt.

"I see, I see." Cyrus nodded. "So, may I ask why you're doing this?"

"Excuse me?" The man asked.

"Passion? No. Seems to me you were forced into doing this, no?"

"Okay, you got me." The man replied. "Look, my grades in Brickwall are falling badly. If I don't pick it up or make rent, then I'm getting kicked out. Look, this is just temporary, okay?"

"Understood." Cyrus turned away from him. "I'll say you're innocent. Just make sure that you are getting your substances from reliable sources. And walk out, don't look suspicious."

The man did as instructed, and Cyrus followed soon after.

"Did you get him?" William asked.

"False alarm." Cyrus sighed, pretending to look sad.

"So we didn't get him." William yelled, looking distressed as he scratched his shirt. "Well, shit! Anyway, I'm gonna go see dad, you coming?"

"Nah, I'll find a place to sleep here." Cyrus replied.

Cyrus sat down on the street, eating his bag of chips. Still as good as he remembered.

"Cyrus!" The guard yelled, sitting down next to him. "Where were you?"

"Helping William with a drug bust." He replied calmly, putting more chips in his mouth. "Bastard got away."

"So where's William now?"

"Back at my parents, I think."

"Are we-"

"No."

"Got it. Actually, where are we sleeping?"

"Eh, we'll camp out." Cyrus shrugged, finishing his bag. "Now, where looks good?"