Fireline

Chapter 8

A Couple of Years Ago

"Come in," Eunice called from inside the clinic as she carefully wrapped a bandage around an injured soldier's arm. The door flung open, and Giovanni strode in with a wide grin.

"What's up, sis?" he said, turning a nearby chair around and sinking into it.

"You're early. No training today?" she asked without looking up, securing the last knot on the soldier's bandage.

"Nah. Master Isaac and Lucien gave me the day off. Said I did well on the last mission and deserved a break."

"Oh," Eunice said, signaling to the soldier that she was done. He gave a nod of thanks and left the room, leaving them alone.

"You've been spending more time with those two lately," she added, pulling off her gloves.

Giovanni shrugged. "Yeah. They're the strongest soldiers in the world. I want to be like them."

Eunice chuckled softly.

"What?" Giovanni raised a brow. "Why are you laughing?"

"I get it. It's the war. All you think about is getting stronger. But we're at the tail end of this, Gio. If the peace treaty between Vostara and Sierra Nova holds, this war will finally be over. You should start thinking about what comes after—what a sixteen-year-old should be doing."

Eunice crossed the room to dispose of the used bandages. Giovanni's gaze followed her, landing on the subtle glimmer of a ring on her finger.

"What's that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Eunice's cheeks flushed.

"I got engaged," she said softly.

"Wait… what? To who?" His face twisted in surprise—and maybe a hint of indignation.

"Isaac." She glanced down at the thin silver band on her slender finger, the aquamarine gem nestled in the center catching the light like a tiny crown.

Giovanni's arms folded across his chest, his pout unmistakable. "And you didn't think to tell me?"

"I was going to, silly." Eunice laughed and hugged him from behind, resting her chin on his shoulder.

"You just got back from a mission, didn't you?" she whispered, pulling away to rummage through a drawer. "I have something for you."

She returned with a small jewelry box, flipping it open to reveal two matching bracelets.

"This one's yours," she said, placing one in his hand. "And this one's mine. So when you're out there fighting for the colony, you'll remember—" her smile softened, "—that you have to come home."

She paused, then added with a warm glint in her eyes, "Happy Birthday, Gio."

Her warm smile twisted and faded, pulling him violently into the future.

Smoke choked the room, curling in thick tendrils toward the collapsing ceiling. The crackle of burning wooden beams filled the air like a dirge. A much older Giovanni stepped forward, his footsteps slow and heavy. His eyes, glassy with unshed tears, locked onto the slender figure sprawled across the floor.

"No… No."

He dropped to his knees beside her. His trembling hand reached out, fingers brushing against the gold bracelet on her wrist—still gleaming despite the blood staining it. Gently, he lifted her hand, but as he did, fresh droplets of crimson fell back into the growing pool beneath her.

"I came back home, Big Sis… I made it back," he whispered, his voice cracking. "Why are you lying here? Let's go… Let's go home. Big Sis…"

But the cold weight of her unresponsive body pressed down on him harder than the smoke-filled air. Reality finally crushed the fragile hope he'd been holding onto.

Present Day

In the dimly lit basement, Isaac and Malick squared off. Three sandbags dangled at various points around the room, swaying gently from earlier impacts. Scattered cardboard boxes lined the walls, and Janice perched lazily atop one of them, watching the sparring session unfold.

Malick sprang forward, fists blurring as he unleashed crisp jabs and hooks at Isaac. Each punch met Isaac's palms, parried with fluid ease. In a flash, Malick dropped low, sweeping his leg toward Isaac's ankles. Isaac vaulted over the attack, twisting mid-air into a smooth backflip.

Malick surged forward the moment Isaac landed, closing the gap. His fist halted mere inches from Isaac's face.

"That's good, but…"

Isaac's hand shot out, striking Malick square in the chest. Malick staggered backward, gasping.

"Boo!" Janice jeered from her spot. "He had you dead to rights."

Isaac grinned, shaking his head. "He hesitated."

"Still, all this hand-to-hand combat… I don't think it's necessary," Janice said with a shrug.

"You'd be surprised." Isaac flexed his knuckles. "Learning to handle yourself without relying on powers makes a difference."

Janice tilted her head. "Why's that?"

Isaac's expression darkened slightly. "The average lifespan of heroes is about ten years after they're infected. At first, no one knew why. Later, they realized it correlates with how often powers are used. The first generation of heroes burned themselves out—pushing their abilities to the limit without caution. That's why their lifespans were so short."

Janice frowned. "So, using powers sparingly extends life expectancy?"

"Exactly. Mastering close combat and weaponry helps reduce reliance on abilities," Isaac explained.

Malick, still catching his breath, smirked. "But you don't use a weapon."

Isaac chuckled. "My abilities are balanced. Sound manipulation lets me attack and defend with equal precision. Physiomorphs like me—those whose mutations altered our bodies—rarely need weapons. Our powers and close quarters combat are enough.

"What about the General?" Malick asked.

"Lucien's a Psychomorph. His mutation happened in his brain. But don't underestimate his raw strength—he's stronger than most Physiomorphs. The sword he carries complements his precision and mental abilities."

Janice leaned forward, curious. "So… between you and the General, who was stronger during the war?"

Isaac's grin faded slightly, his gaze drifting off for a moment.

"That's… hard to say."

"Well, it depends on who you ask," Isaac said, leaning casually against the wall. "Some might say Lucien—he's… well, Lucien. Others might point to Giovanni. Eunice's little brother was ridiculously strong for his age. And then there's me."

Malick stretched, wiping sweat from his brow. "All this training's made me hungry. Let's eat." He was already halfway to the wooden staircase.

"Me too!" Janice jogged after him.

"You coming?" she called over her shoulder.

Isaac lingered for a second, staring at the ground. "Right behind you."

Kill him… then come back for me.

Lucien's words echoed relentlessly in his head.

Lucien's strength has skyrocketed. I can't face him like this… and get him to talk. The Scarlet Hand's after me too. Sierra's elite leader… he's bound to be powerful.

"Isaac!"

Janice's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. She hurried down the stairs, a crumpled letter in hand, her breath shallow from running.

"What is it?" Isaac asked, already sensing trouble.

"We couldn't find Mrs. Hart anywhere… but this was on the kitchen table." She held out the letter.

Isaac scanned the paper. His eyes darkened as a sharp wave of anger surged through him. Without another word, he bolted for the door, racing toward the main building.

"Isaac, wait!" Malick shouted, but Isaac didn't stop.

Janice and Malick exchanged a quick glance before sprinting after him.

The abandoned warehouse loomed ahead, battered by time and neglect. Crickets hummed in the tall grass, and an owl's distant call echoed in the still night.

Isaac's footsteps slowed as he stepped inside, the stale air thick with dust and memories.

"Come out," he called, his voice hard and steady. It echoed through the cavernous space.

For a moment, silence. Then heavy footsteps broke it.

Giovanni emerged from the shadows, clad in a sleek red combat suit. Neon lights flickered along the seams of his mask, casting faint glows across the ground. Beside him, another figure appeared, dressed in black, his face equally hidden beneath a mask.

Isaac's gaze sharpened.

"Where's my grandmother?" he demanded.

Giovanni's tone was almost casual. "She's safe. I just needed leverage to bring you here."

Isaac's hands clenched at his sides. "If anything—"

"I think you should be more worried about yourself." Giovanni took a step forward, his voice dipping. "This time, you're not walking away."

There was no warning.

Giovanni lunged, his fist connecting with Isaac's jaw and sending him staggering backward.

Malick and Janice reacted instantly, rushing to Isaac's aid—

—but the second figure stepped in, blocking their path.

The warehouse filled with tension, thick and suffocating.

"I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw you. Thought you were dead already," the man said mockingly, pressing a button on the side of his mask. With a faint hiss, the mask retracted, revealing a face Janice instantly recognized.

"Elliot?" she said, her eyes widening in shock.

Elliot grinned. "Janice Flynn."

"You're with the Red Veil? How… how is that possible?"

"My father bought my way in. He's got the most active shares in the Hero System, after all."

"And you call yourself a hero?" Malick snapped, his fists clenched at his sides.

Elliot laughed, the sound sharp and wild. "Hero? I joined the Red Veil because we're free to do whatever we want. No rules. No oversight. Like killing those Nova pigs."

Malick's expression hardened, his muscles tensing beside Janice.

"Don't talk about them like that," Malick said coldly.

Elliot's smirk widened. "Did I hit a nerve? Or maybe you're one of them. What are you gonna do about it?"

Malick took a step forward. "I'll shove those words down your throat."

"I'd like to see you try," Elliot taunted.

A few feet away, Isaac steadied himself, brushing the corner of his mouth where Giovanni's punch had landed. His eyes narrowed.

"I don't forgive anyone who hurts my family," Isaac said quietly.

Giovanni's voice was just as cold. "Glad you feel that way… because I feel the same."

Scorched Veil.

Heat shimmered around Giovanni's body, distorting the air and wrapping him in a faint, burning aura. Each step he took left charred footprints in the ground, the acrid scent of scorched grass trailing behind him.

Isaac exhaled slowly, clapping his hands together. A thin shockwave rippled through the air, slicing toward Giovanni.

Giovanni shifted just in time, the shockwave narrowly missing him—but the abandoned forklifts behind him weren't as lucky. With a screech of tearing metal, they split cleanly in half.

Giovanni closed the gap instantly.

Isaac reacted, leaping into the air and driving his foot down toward Giovanni's head.

Giovanni raised his arm, blocking the kick with ease. Isaac flipped back, landing several feet away, but his eyes darted toward his smoking boots.

I've seen this before… Isaac thought, glancing at Giovanni's blazing outline.

Giovanni straightened, the heat around him intensifying. "Scorched Veil's a passive defense. Turns me into a walking furnace. Better watch your step."

"Who are you?" Isaac demanded, his eyes narrowing.

"VOR mutations are unique," he continued, circling Giovanni. "There might be slight overlaps, but each mutant's abilities manifest differently… Take off your mask."

Giovanni's stance didn't waver. "Make me."

Isaac didn't hesitate.

In a blur of motion, he dashed forward at full speed, appearing in front of Giovanni for only a split second before reappearing behind him. A blast of soundwaves erupted from his hands, hurling Giovanni across the room.

Giovanni twisted mid-air, landing heavily but regaining his footing almost instantly.

Before he could react, Isaac appeared again—right in front of him.

Repulsion.

A thunderous shockwave rippled outward, slamming Giovanni backward and sending him crashing through a shipping container.

From the twisted metal, Giovanni's roar echoed. The container glowed red-hot, liquefying and collapsing under the sheer heat radiating from him.

Crimson Pulse.

A beam of concentrated heat seared through the air, igniting everything along its path. The blast pierced Isaac's left shoulder, sending him staggering backward.

Giovanni emerged from the molten wreckage, smoke rising from his combat suit. He clasped his hands together, heat condensing between his palms as flickering embers gathered. Slowly, the embers coalesced into a burning sphere—small but dense, vibrating with raw power.

Dragon's Wrath.

With a single thrust, Giovanni unleashed a massive beam of fire. The warehouse erupted in flames, the air thick with the heat of an inferno. Everything in the blast's radius was incinerated, leaving only scorched earth and twisted metal in its wake.

Giovanni landed softly, steam hissing from the vents of his suit as it released the excess heat.

Isaac's voice cut through the haze.

"So… that's how you're able to output that much power."

Giovanni's head snapped toward the sound.

Isaac stepped out of the shadows, his clothes charred and smoldering. His left arm hung limp, but his eyes were sharp despite the heavy rise and fall of his chest.

Giovanni's eyes narrowed. "How did you—?"

Isaac wiped the sweat from his brow. "Sonic movement. I can teleport to any sound I generate within five hundred miles. It's not exactly foolproof… as you can see." He winced, shifting his injured arm.

"Tch…" Giovanni scowled, heat still radiating faintly around him.

The tension lingered—neither willing to back down.