Outburst

The room was filled with the clatter of coins, the clink of weapons, and the low murmurs of the crew as they divided the loot. Kalem stood off to the side, his eyes scanning the room. He had his share of the haul—coins, trinkets, a few jewels—but his mind wasn't on any of that. His eyes were fixed on the Awakening Stone, still sitting on the table, glowing faintly in the dim light. 

But then, a loud thud echoed from above, followed by heavy footsteps. 

Everyone in the room went still, the noise of the gathering dying out as the floor seemed to vibrate with the weight of the incoming steps. They didn't need to look to know who it was. 

Big John. 

Kalem's stomach tightened at the sound. There was no mistaking it. The boss was huge—bigger than anyone in the room. He was a towering figure, with a broad chest and arms like tree trunks. His face was as ugly as the rest of him, marred by scars, an eyepatch covering one eye, and a permanent scowl that made him look like a man who'd never known anything but pain and cruelty. A cigar stuck out of his mouth, its smoke curling up in thick clouds as he walked into the room, his steps heavy and deliberate. 

He looked like someone born to be bad, someone who had taken the worst parts of the world and made them his own. 

The room went completely silent as Big John stepped into the den, the temperature in the room seeming to drop by a few degrees. His one good eye scanned the gathered thieves, his gaze hard and unforgiving. 

Sid stepped forward, a smug grin still plastered on his face. "Boss," he said, bowing his head slightly. "We've divided the loot. Good haul tonight." 

Big John didn't acknowledge the compliment. He walked straight to the table, his heavy boots thudding on the floor, and his eyes locked onto the pile of stolen goods. His gaze lingered on the Awakening Stone, the green hue catching his attention immediately. 

"That's mine," Big John said, his voice low and rough like gravel. 

He didn't ask. He didn't negotiate. He just took it. Reaching down, he grabbed the stone in one hand, inspecting it briefly before holding it up to the dim light, his one good eye narrowing. 

"I'll find a buyer for this," he muttered, mostly to himself. 

Kalem felt a pang of anger shoot through him at the sight of Big John handling the stone like it was nothing more than a trinket. It was *his* ticket to something more, a way to unlock his potential, to rise above this life of scraping by. But here was Big John, treating it like just another piece of loot to be sold for a quick profit. 

Without thinking, Kalem stepped forward, his voice sharp as he called out. 

"I'd like it," he said, a little louder than he intended. 

The room went completely still. The silence stretched for an uncomfortable moment before all eyes were on him. Sid's eyes narrowed, and Kalem immediately regretted his outburst. But it was too late. The words were out. 

Big John turned slowly, his expression unreadable. He looked Kalem up and down, the cigar hanging from his mouth like a grotesque ornament. 

"You'd *like* it?" Big John said, his voice dangerously calm. "And why the hell would I give it to you?" 

Kalem's heart hammered in his chest, but he kept his gaze steady. He couldn't back down now. "I—I have my reasons," he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt. "I've got plans, and I can make it worth your while." 

There was a long pause, and for a moment, Kalem thought Big John might actually consider it. But before he could say anything more, Sid's voice broke through the tension, thick with mockery. 

"You *really* think you can just walk in here and demand something, Dark Rat?" Sid said, stepping forward with a smirk. "You're barely worth a lick of salt, and you want *this*?" He reached over, shoving Kalem aside roughly. 

Kalem stumbled back, but he didn't fall. His hands curled into fists at his sides. Sid was playing this exactly how Kalem expected, looking for any excuse to put him in his place. The others in the room were watching, waiting to see how this would play out. Kalem could feel the weight of their gazes, but he couldn't back down now. 

"I'm not *asking*," Kalem snapped back, his voice steady despite the knot of anger tightening in his chest. "I'm telling you, I want it." 

Sid's grin widened, and without another word, he swung his fist toward Kalem's face. 

The punch landed squarely on Kalem's jaw, sending him reeling. His head whipped to the side, the force of the blow staggering him back a few steps. Kalem's vision blurred for a moment, but he didn't fall. He wouldn't. 

As he regained his balance, he wiped a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth and glared at Sid, who was already stepping back with a sneer. The room was still silent, the tension hanging thick in the air. 

Big John hadn't moved. He just watched, his one good eye fixed on Kalem, waiting to see what he would do next. 

Kalem's heart raced, his mind already spinning with thoughts of how he would get what he needed. *This isn't over.* 

The stone was still on the table. And he *would* get it.