BOOM.BOOM.RUMBLE.

Lightning carved jagged streaks across the pitch-black sky, illuminating the battlefield in fleeting flashes. Rain poured relentlessly, mixing with the blood that pooled beneath Ethan Graves as he lay motionless, his chest heaving with shallow, ragged breaths. Pain wracked his body, but it was the burning rage in his eyes that refused to die.

"Why...?" Ethan coughed, blood spilling from his lips as he glared upward. His voice trembled, hoarse and desperate. "Why would you do this, Jack?"

The group standing above him didn’t flinch. At their center, Jack Marshall—the one Ethan had trusted as a friend—looked down at him, an unsettling grin stretching across his face. His tone was as cold as the storm around them, sending chills through the air.

"Why?" Jack repeated mockingly, crouching slightly to meet Ethan’s gaze. "Because you’re a nuisance, Ethan. A worthless little nerd who doesn’t belong anywhere near the council."

Ethan’s breath hitched, but the fury in his chest burned brighter. "A nuisance? That’s why you’d send the annihilation squad after me?" His voice cracked, the words spilling out in disbelief. "You’re lying! This isn’t about the council, is it?"

Jack chuckled darkly, standing upright. "Oh, Ethan, you’re sharper than I gave you credit for. You’re right—it’s not about the council." His grin turned venomous. "This is about you. You’ve always been a problem. Always in the way. And worse..." He spat the word. "...she was always with you. No matter what I did."

Ethan froze. "What are you talking about?"

Jack’s face twisted with contempt. "You know exactly what I’m talking about. Her. Your stupid little crush. She was always at your side, wasn’t she? Smiling at you, laughing with you... while I, her boyfriend, was left watching like an idiot!" He roared the last word, his voice echoing over the storm.

Ethan shook his head. "This is insane—"

"Insane?" Jack interrupted, his voice dropping to a venomous hiss. "No, Ethan. What’s insane is the lengths I had to go to get rid of you. I reported you to the council as an S-class threat. Bribed half their members. Pulled strings to make this squad happen. And here we are."

Ethan’s fists clenched, blood seeping between his fingers. "You sold out your own people... because of jealousy?!"

Jack laughed—a cold, humorless sound that cut through the thunder. "Jealousy? No, Ethan. Ambition. When I kill you, I’ll be a hero. And when I step over your pathetic corpse, I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted." He leaned closer, his blade glinting in the stormlight. "And I’ll start by taking her."

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

"Touch her..." Ethan growled, his voice trembling with fury. "...and I’ll kill you."

Jack smirked. "Kill me? You can barely stand."

With a roar, Ethan surged to his feet, his dimensional blade igniting in his grasp. He swung with every ounce of strength he had left.

Puchi.

An arm flew through the air, landing with a wet splat.

Jack stumbled back, clutching his bleeding stump. His face contorted in pain, but even then, his grin didn’t falter.

"My... my arm!" he stammered, his voice rising in disbelief.

Ethan’s chest heaved as he raised his blade again. "You don’t get to win, Jack. Not this time."

But Jack’s shock melted into cruel amusement. "Oh, Ethan," he sneered, his voice steadying. "You really don’t understand, do you? This was over before it started."

A sharp pain shot through Ethan’s chest. He dropped to his knees, gasping as his regeneration—his last line of defense—failed to kick in.

"What...?" he choked out, his vision blurring.

"Didn’t you wonder why your powers aren’t working?" Jack asked, stepping closer. His voice was almost pitying. "It’s because of her."

Ethan’s blood ran cold. "Her?"

"Your niece," Jack said, savoring the words. "Little Leah. We took her. Drained her blood. Turns out, her ability is perfect for shutting down people like you." He chuckled darkly. "She screamed for you, Ethan. Right up until the end."

"No..." The word escaped Ethan’s lips as a whisper, his mind shattering under the weight of Jack’s revelation.

"And you know what the best part is?" Jack grinned. "You’ll never get the chance to save her."

Ethan’s scream tore through the storm, raw and primal.

BOOM.

The heavens answered his cry with a blinding bolt of lightning, striking him where he knelt.

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BEEP.BEEP.BEEP.

Ethan’s eyes shot open. His chest heaved as he scrambled upright, drenched in sweat. His gaze darted around the room, wild and unfocused.

"Hey, you okay, Ethan?"

The familiar voice snapped him out of his panic. He turned to see Dakota standing in the doorway, his brother’s face etched with concern.

The digital clock on the nightstand read 5:30 AM.

"Dakota..." Ethan’s voice trembled. "You’re... alive?"

Dakota frowned. "What kind of question is that? Of course I’m alive. Did you have a nightmare or something?"

Ethan barely heard him. His heart pounded as he scanned the room—the old, familiar details of their house in Henderson, Nevada. This was home. This was...

"This isn’t possible," he muttered.

"Stay home from school today," Dakota said, stepping into the room. "You look pale. I’ll call Dad and tell him you’re sick."

Ethan nodded absently as Dakota left. Slowly, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his mind racing. He stumbled into the bathroom, gripping the sink for support.

When he looked into the mirror, his breath caught.

Staring back at him wasn’t the battle-hardened survivor he’d become. It was a soft, round face—pale and unscarred. His freshman-year face.

He staggered back, his gaze falling to his body. No scars. No muscle. Just the soft frame of a 265-pound teenager.

"No," he whispered. "This... can’t be real."

His thoughts were interrupted by a faint ding.

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System transfer complete. Scanning host...

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Ethan stared at the mirror, his breath shallow. This wasn’t a dream. It was a second chance.