A Hero’s Dilemma

As the moon hung high in the night sky, its light barely peeking through the curtains of Ethan's dorm room, he lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His muscles still ached from the training with Aria, his mind still absorbing all the information Korin had told him during the academy tour. It felt like he had been thrust into a new life—one where expectations and responsibilities weighed heavy on his shoulders.

He closed his eyes, trying to push away the whirlwind of thoughts. Just as he was starting to drift into sleep, a sudden knock on the door jolted him awake. Ethan sat up, blinking in confusion. It was late—too late for any casual visitors. He dragged himself off the bed, his legs still sore, and walked to the door. When he opened it, he was surprised to see Captain Hadrian standing there, his face serious yet calm.

"Hadrian?" Ethan said, rubbing his eyes. "Why'd you come by so late again today?"

Hadrian gave a slight nod and stepped closer. "I have something important to tell you, Ethan. I wanted to do this in person."

Ethan furrowed his brow, sensing the weight in Hadrian's voice. "What is it?"

"Walk with me," Hadrian said, gesturing toward the hallway. Ethan hesitated for a second before grabbing his jacket and following the captain. As they walked side by side, the corridors of the academy seemed eerily quiet, the hum of distant lights the only sound breaking the silence.

Once they were outside, Hadrian paused by his car, unlocking the doors with a beep. "Ethan, what I'm about to tell you is classified," Hadrian began in a low voice. "You can't tell anyone, not even Korin. But I trust you. I know how much your mother meant to you, and I promised I'd tell you everything after she passed. You're young, I know, and I don't want you getting involved, but this… this is something I believe you deserve to know."

Ethan's heart quickened. The memories of the robbery that claimed his mother's life were still raw, and any mention of it sent a wave of emotion surging through him. He nodded slowly, acknowledging Hadrian's trust, though a part of him was unsure if he was ready for whatever was coming.

They both got into Hadrian's car, the interior cold against the night air. As they pulled away from the academy and into the dark streets, Ethan finally found his voice.

"What is this about, Captain?" Ethan asked his throat dry.

Hadrian kept his eyes on the road, his jaw tight. "We learned something new about the robbery that killed your mother," he said. "It wasn't just some random attack on a bank. The man who led the charge—he wasn't working alone. He was just the first of a team tasked to clear the way."

Ethan frowned. "Clear the way?"

Hadrian nodded, his grip on the steering wheel tightening. "He was part of a larger team. Four others, to be exact. They were working with an organization, one we've been tracking for some time, but they've always stayed out of our reach. That robbery was never about money. It was about something else, something hidden inside that bank."

Ethan felt a jolt of disbelief. "But why would an organization like that target a simple bank? What could they possibly want from there?"

Hadrian glanced at him briefly before turning back to the road. "That bank holds more than just money, Ethan. One of the customers had a personal vault, and inside it was something they needed. We don't know exactly what it was yet, but it's clear now that this is much bigger than we initially thought."

"I was going to tell you anyway but I also wanted to ask you if you maybe remember the robber saying anything about others, or giving any hints about someone else coming?" Hadrian asked

Ethan's mind raced, trying to wrap his head around what Hadrian was telling him. It felt surreal, like a conspiracy unfolding right in front of him. He clenched his fists, feeling the anger and grief bubbling up once more. His mother had died for something more than just a robbery gone wrong. There were people out there—dangerous people—responsible for her death.

"I don't remember anything like that, I also thought he was alone," Ethan said, his voice thick with emotion. "How could something like this happen? Why my mother? Why our family?"

Hadrian's voice softened. "I understand, it was worth a shot, we don't have all the answers yet, but I promise you, we're following every lead. We will find everyone responsible for her death, and they will be punished."

Ethan took a deep breath, his emotions threatening to overwhelm him. For a moment, he couldn't find the words. Instead, he just nodded, swallowing hard as he stared out the window, watching the city lights blur past.

"Thank you," Ethan finally said, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity. "For everything."

Hadrian gave a small, solemn nod in response. There was a heavy pause before Ethan spoke again, the question weighing on his mind. "So… where are we going?"

Hadrian exhaled, his expression softening. "We're heading to the police station. I was asked to hand over your mother's belongings to your guardian, but Korin insisted I gave them to you personally. He thinks it might help you get some closure."

Ethan's chest tightened at the thought of his mother's things, the memories tied to every item she had left behind. His voice wavered. "I don't know if I'm ready…"

Hadrian's gaze softened as he glanced at the boy beside him. "I know you've been putting on a brave face, even though it's still so fresh. But maybe going through some of her things will help you in these difficult times. She'd be proud of you, you know."

Ethan turned his head away, his eyes misting over as the weight of it all settled in his heart. He thought of his mother—her smile, her strength, the way she always believed in him. Despite everything, despite his fear and grief, he knew Hadrian was right.

"Yeah," Ethan whispered his voice barely audible. "People keep telling me that, I just hope it's true."

As they drove toward the police station, Ethan sat in the passenger seat of Captain Hadrian's car, the weight of the day pressing heavily on his shoulders. The news Hadrian had shared—about multiple individuals being responsible for his mother's death—echoed in his mind. His mother, the woman who had given him life, had been taken away in an instant, he was never the one thinking about the revenge, but he also couldn't accept that some people out there are responsible for his mother's death and have not brought to justice.

"Why?" he thought bitterly, gazing out the window at the passing city. "Why did they have to do it? Why her?" The memories of that day flooded back—the sound of gunfire, the terror in his mother's eyes, the chaotic aftermath that left him feeling lost and alone.

His thoughts spiraled as they made their way to the police station. The low hum of the engine was a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him. "I thought things would get better," he mused, remembering the brief glimmer of hope he felt during training with Aria. "But now it just feels like I'm trapped in this nightmare."

Suddenly, Hadrian's phone buzzed, cutting through the silence. The captain glanced at the screen, his expression shifting from calm to serious. "Hold on, Ethan," he said, answering the call.

"Hadrian here," he said, his tone clipped and professional.

Ethan strained to listen as Hadrian spoke, his gut twisting with unease. "There are complaints about noise and violent in the Blackwood neighborhood," Hadrian said, his brow furrowing. "it's nearby, and we're short-staffed. So I need to check it out."

"Shouldn't we keep going to the station?" Ethan asked, anxiety creeping into his voice. He didn't want to delay the trip any longer, not with so much at stake.

"This is important," Hadrian replied firmly, but his voice softened slightly. "You need you to stay in the car, no matter what happens. Understand?"

Ethan nodded, though doubt gnawed at him. "Okay," he said quietly, though a part of him wanted to protest. "I can help."

As Hadrian parked the car, Ethan's heart raced with apprehension. The streets were dark, and a sense of foreboding filled the air. Hadrian turned to him, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You'll be safe here. Just wait for me."

"Yeah, right," Ethan thought, forcing a smile as Hadrian stepped out of the car and walked toward the alley. He felt a mix of fear and helplessness wash over him. The captain had trusted him, yet here he was, just a kid—what could he really do?

Moments passed in silence as Ethan sat alone, the stillness becoming unbearable. The shadows seemed to stretch and twist around him, amplifying his anxiety. Suddenly, a scream shattered the night, followed by two sharp gunshots. His heart plummeted into his stomach.

"What was that?" Panic surged through him as he flung the car door open. "I need to stay here!" his mind knew the answer.

He raced toward the sound, ignoring the warning echoing in his head. "What am I doing?" Ethan tried to stop, but his instincts propelled him forward, knowing to danger he still couldn't stop, drawing him into the darkness of the alley. "WTF!" Ethan couldn't contain his shock as he rounded the corner, and a horrifying scene unfolded before him.

Captain Hadrian lay on the ground, blood seeping from two knife wounds—one in his chest, the other in his left calve. A gun lay discarded nearby, glinting ominously in the low light. Ethan's breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight.

On the opposite side stood a dark figure with a slight hunch, laughter spilling from his lips like poison. Behind him lay two women, their bodies sprawled on the ground, blood pooling around them. The horror of the scene rendered Ethan momentarily frozen, a sickening dread coiling in his gut.

"Look who we have here!" the hunchback sneered, his voice dripping with malice. "A little boy came to play hero! How cute!" He stepped closer, his hunchback shifting as he surveyed Ethan with manic eyes.

"Get away from him!" Ethan shouted, trying to summon any semblance of courage. His heart pounded in his chest, and his mind raced with the memories of helplessness that had haunted him since the robbery—the inability to save his mother, and the feeling of being again powerless against the two kids who had tried to rob the store weeks ago.

Now, facing this dark figure, he felt that same helplessness returning.

"Hahaha, you're just a scared little boy playing in a world far too big for you! Look around you—your precious friend bleeding out n the ground!"

"Shut up!" Ethan shouted, forcing his voice to remain steady. He took a step back, instinctively glancing toward Hadrian, who laid motionless, blood pooling around him. "You don't know anything about me!"

"Ah, but I do!" the hunchback continued, a twisted grin spreading across his face. "You're just a child, all alone. You think you can be a hero?"

As despair threatened to engulf him, he heard Hadrian's voice echoing in his mind. "Ethan, you have to run! Call for help!"

Ethan's heart raced, his instincts screaming at him to flee. But he couldn't abandon Hadrian. He couldn't be that helpless boy again. "I won't let him hurt you!" he shouted, taking a step forward, trying to sound braver than he felt.

"Run away, little mouse!" the hunchback cackled, taking a step closer. "Or do you want to fight? You'll just end up like you friend over there, bleeding out on the ground!"

Ethan's breath quickened, fear tightening its grip around his chest. He felt trapped between the urge to protect Hadrian and the instinct to flee from danger. "I can't run," he thought, clenching his fists. "I have to do something!"

"I'll give you a choice, kid!" the hunchback taunted, his eyes gleaming with insanity. "Fight or die HAHAHAHA!"

Ethan stood frozen, battling with himself. He knew he was no hero; he was just a boy who had lost everything. But beneath the fear, something else stirred—a flicker of defiance. He couldn't let this madman kill him and Hadrian. Not after everything he had already lost.

As the hunchback laughed, Ethan took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he had left. This was his moment to confront the darkness, to prove he could be more than what his fears told him.

The choice hung in the air, and with it, the weight of his past and the uncertainty of his future.