[This part happens after the prologue]
The pale light of the streetlamp above flickered, as if the world itself hesitated to witness what was happening.
Thomas was crawling. The scraped palms of his hands grazed the rough asphalt, leaving red trails. The air reeked of blood and rust. The sky felt farther away than ever.
— That's why humans should never see these things… — whispered Calil behind him, voice muffled by the blood pooling in his throat.
Thomas tried to stand. The slashed leg didn't respond. Only his hips dragged, in a desperate effort.
There's still time… there has to be time… Gabi… Olivia…
Another dagger cut.
It slid through the air with a high-pitched hum, almost beautiful. And sliced.
It wasn't a clean hit. It tore sideways, opening the skin between his shoulder blade and spine like a zipper of flesh. The pain came like a muffled explosion, followed by instant nausea. He collapsed onto his side, gasping.
Calil was no longer laughing. He just walked. His eyes were dead. Only his hands trembled — not from fear, but exhaustion. Still, he walked.
— Stay still, or it'll get worse.
Thomas tried to crawl again. The good leg jerked. His body responded to instinct, not logic.
The second blade came.
Silent.
Merciless.
It sank into his ribs, between the bones. Pierced and twisted. Thomas screamed.
And then...
It wasn't the alley. It wasn't the blood.
It was Gabrielle, in a blue dress, jumping in puddles at the park.
— Daddy, look! I'm all wet like a fish! — she laughed, her eyes shining.
Thomas chased her, pretending to be a sea monster, arms flailing. Olivia watched from afar, laughing, holding her phone, recording everything.
— Are you the swamp monster? — she teased.
— I'm the king of the mangroves! — Thomas replied.
Gabi tripped. He ran and caught her midair. She laughed so hard she hiccuped.
I can't die...
The image vanished the instant another blade tore into the back of his thigh. Now, he wasn't crawling. Just bleeding.
Calil crouched over him. His breathing was ragged, but his eyes... still frozen.
— You know what pisses me off the most? You're dying... and you don't even know why.
He yanked the blade from Thomas's ribs. Blood sprayed in erratic bursts. The dagger dripped. Calil stood, panting.
Thomas turned his face to the asphalt. The taste of iron filled his mouth. A single tear fell — from pain, fear, or both.
The next dagger danced in the air. It hovered like an animal sniffing prey. Then plunged into his left calf.
Thomas arched. No strength left to scream.
And then the world gave way again.
Another memory.
He was in the kitchen. Morning sunlight reflected on the tile floor. Olivia danced slowly, barefoot, hips swaying to some random song playing from her phone on the counter.
Thomas smiled. He had just returned from the market, backpack still slung over one shoulder. Gabrielle sat on the floor, drawing on the fridge door with markers.
— You know she's not supposed to do that, right? — he teased, weakly.
— We'll clean it with alcohol. And she's making memories — Olivia replied.
Memories.
Thomas wanted to freeze that moment. To bury it deep inside him, somewhere pain could never reach.
I can't die, not like this... not now.
The memory was ripped away by the next cut. The blade slashed his lower back, dragging along his flank with sadistic slowness, as if Calil wanted to savor every inch of the wound.
Thomas felt his bladder release. His body no longer obeyed. His skin burned, nerves firing off too many alerts for his brain to keep up.
Calil stepped closer, now limping.
— You think you can just watch and leave? — he said, spitting blood. — The world wasn't made for the curious. It's made for those who know where they step.
Thomas tried to turn. His lips moved, but no sound came.
Calil laughed.
— Still trying? Impressive…
The next dagger came slowly. No rush. Like there was time.
It spun through the air and pierced Thomas's shoulder with a dry snap.
He was in the hammock.
Ubatuba. The sea breeze caressed his skin.
Gabrielle slept on his chest, and Olivia sat beside him, reading a book. The sound of waves came through the window, mixed with the distant tune of an accordion from some nearby house.
— We did it, love — Olivia whispered, eyes closed. — We finally took that trip with her.
— Yeah… we did. — His voice came out low. Full.
He was holding his whole world in his arms.
And now, he was losing it.
The memory dissolved like fog swept away by blades.
Pain returned like thunder.
Calil was on top of him now, kneeling, pressing his knee into Thomas's back, forcing him against the ground. One hand twisted his arm back. The other slowly pulled the dagger from his shoulder, rotating the blade like it was digging through raw flesh.
Thomas screamed. Loud.
The scream broke into sobs.
The pain wasn't just physical. It was as if every second became a mirror of his own helplessness.
— Still alive? — Calil growled with contempt. — You're just a piece of shit. A nobody. No one will miss you.
Thomas opened his mouth. Blood dripped from the corner.
— Olivia... Gabi... — he whispered, not even realizing it.
Calil plunged the dagger back in, slightly lower than before. Thomas lost his breath. A diagonal cut, slicing muscle, bone, dripping Yandu venom onto the ground.
It was raining outside.
The yellow light in the living room lit a peaceful end of day. Gabrielle slept on the couch, head tilted, a children's book in her lap. Olivia came from the kitchen holding tea. She sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder with that serene exhaustion of those who fight every day, yet never lose affection.
— How do you not want to bite her all the time? — she asked.
— How do you manage?
— I meditate — she said, laughing quietly — a lot!
— Sometimes I'm just amazed at... how beautiful you are.
She gave him a goofy smile.
And that smile was worth more than any paycheck, any struggle, anything.
That was the reason. For that moment.
Is that what I'll lose if I die here?
If this bastard kills me now, is that what disappears from the world?
The warmth returned.
But so did the pain.
So much pain.
Calil now spoke softly, almost like a preacher to a dying soul.
— You know what I love about the weak? They always have that look of "why me?" — Calil mocked, raising his pitch — Like the world owes them something. Like the universe has to be fair.
He pulled the last dagger from his belt — the smallest, the thinnest — and delicately ran it across Thomas's face, tracing a line from cheek to chin.
— You're just an insect that stepped where you shouldn't have. And now you'll die… forgotten.
— After everything I went through today, at least a moment of fun...
Thomas felt the blade tip press against his throat.
— Goodbye.
Thomas felt the cold metal slice the skin of his neck like a cruel whisper of death. His breath grew short, and each heartbeat echoed like a war drum in his ears. Warm blood trickled down his neck, mixing with sweat and dirt.
He closed his eyes.
This is the end.
And then… everything vanished.
The pain. The sound. The smell of the alley.
He was… there.
But somewhere else.
Sitting on the porch floor, with Gabrielle asleep in his arms.
It was night. The sky was clear, and fireflies danced in the darkness like small promises that life could be light, even just for a while.
Olivia appeared at the door. She sat beside him, resting her head on his shoulder. The silence was comfortable, as if they understood each other without speaking.
— You're too good for this world, you know? — she said.
— Good is just being with you. The rest… I fake.
She laughed, but didn't disagree.
Thomas looked at his sleeping daughter.
Her small, warm weight.
The trust.
The soft breathing.
That was his world. That was the only reason.
Then Olivia turned, looking into his eyes.
There was something different there. Something that shattered the calm.
— Thomas...
— Hm?
— Wake up.
— What...?
She squeezed his hand. Hard. Her eyes now sharp blades of clarity.
— You need to come back. Now.
— I... I can't... — he whispered. — I'm dying.
— No. You're choosing to die.
— I'm not a monster, Olivia...
— And who cares? — she snapped. — Who's there now? Who's gonna hold your hand if you die? Who's gonna protect Gabi?
— I can't...
— Yes, you can. — She leaned in, resting her forehead against his. — Kill that son of a bitch, Thomas. — Her voice changed completely, trembling with fury.
— Fuck what people think. Fuck the guilt. Be ruthless if you must. Be cruel. But live. For me. For her. — Olivia sobbed through her last words.
The scene shattered reality. Something broke, like glass splintering.
Thomas, for a second, saw himself from the outside, like a spirit.
It lasted only moments. And then he returned.
And then... the world tore open. Something shifted. The air grew thick. Fear, pain — all of it vanished, leaving only a void full of questions.
Can I live? — Thomas asked himself for the first time.
— I... I want to live. — Something rose — like hope, but shaped by rage.
— I will live. — It might have sounded small, but Thomas had decided: he would change reality if he had to.
And at that moment, something burst — like a water balloon hitting the ground in slow motion.
The energy came.
Not like lightning.
But like a silent earthquake, rising from the heart, through his gut, up his spine, and into his skull.
Thomas's eyes opened in the alley.
He was back.
The metal still pressed to his throat.
But now… fear had been replaced by something primal.
Rage. Survival. Will.
His right hand moved — as if pulled by something beyond him — and seized Calil's wrist with brutal strength.
Calil staggered, surprised, trying to pull away.
— What...?!
Too late.
Thomas roared — but it wasn't a human scream.
It was a primal bellow — one that made Calil's vision blur, his skull vibrate, his instincts scream at him to flee.
A roar of agony, fury, and determination.
The energy that had slept within his flesh erupted. It was Ipo, a source of power Thomas had never known.
Calil tried to retreat, but Thomas's hand was now a cage. His fingers dug into the shaman's wrist, and the older man's body began to tremble.
— N-NO! — Calil cried.
Veins burst across his face.
His eyes rolled back.
And Thomas saw.
He saw Calil's childhood. The first time he killed. The face of someone he loved. He saw betrayal. Pacts. Suffering. The day he gave up on being human.
And he felt every pain. Every regret. Every sin.
But he didn't stop.
Because now he also felt… the blades. The cuts. The poison. The rage.
The dagger once pressed to his throat clattered to the ground with a dry clang.
Calil began to scream.
Not from physical pain alone.
But from the pain of losing everything. Of being torn apart. Of having his spirit shredded.
— STOP! — he begged. — FOR GOD'S SAKE, STOP!
But Thomas… couldn't stop anymore.
His wounds began to close. The blood retreated. His muscles healed.
As if Calil'sAyvu was being used as medicine. As power.
As fuel.
Calil collapsed to his knees, eyes bulging, mouth full of blood.
And Thomas spoke. Softly. Barely a whisper.
— You called me weak...
— You cut my body... killed my hope...
The shaman spat blood.
— And you thought you'd walk away from this?
Thomas gripped tighter. Calil gasped like a stabbed animal.
— N-no... no... please... I... I have a family... I...
— So do I! — Thomas roared like a lion, silencing Calil's every plea.
And he began to assimilate Calil's life.
He kept going until nothing was left.
Calil's body withered to a lifeless husk.
Then fell sideways… dry, empty.
Thomas stood there.
Rigid.
His eyes fixed on his hand, as if that moment might stretch forever — the moment he killed a man, without even knowing how.
In his palm… the heat of stolen power still pulsed like a living ember.
His breathing was unsteady. He was… alive.
More than that. He was whole.
But... something was wrong. Something dark.
Because along with the power, he felt Calil's pain, his despair, his fear, his loneliness.
He had absorbed it all.
And now… he would carry it forever.
I… I killed a man.
He grabbed his phone with trembling fingers. Called Olivia.
Her voice came through like a breath of the real world.
— Hey, love — Olivia answered.
— Baby, I… I'm hurt… I think… I'm gonna lose consciousness… — Thomas said, voice shaking.
— I killed… I killed someone… A man…
Thomas passed out, letting the phone slip from his hand.