Chapter Three: The Morning Spar

The sound of a boot connecting with the side of his bed jolted Nicholas awake. His eyes snapped open to find Zeke grinning down at him, his wild afro casting shadows over his easygoing face. The man stood there, hands on hips, dressed in his usual baggy streetwear, the oversized hoodie hanging off his frame in a way that somehow still looked cool. Zeke's grin widened as he nudged Nicholas with his foot again.

"Up and at 'em, little bro," Zeke said, his voice filled with mock sternness. "You've got training. Can't be slacking now."

Nicholas shook off the last remnants of sleep, a wide smile spreading across his face. Training with Zeke was one of the highlights of his day. He practically jumped out of bed, his medium-length dreadlocks bouncing as he did. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small, high window that overlooked the bustling streets of Vale City. The sounds of the night before still lingered in the walls—muffled bass from the nightclub downstairs, the hum of conversations, and the occasional shout or laugh from the patrons.

The bedroom, modest and functional, was attached to one of Dante Omen's nightclubs. It had become their home, though it was far from the peaceful life Nicholas remembered from Solstice Reap. Still, it was theirs, and Nicholas had grown accustomed to the constant noise and the ever-present aura of the place.

Nicholas pulled on his sneakers and adjusted his hoodie, which was slightly too big for his 10-year-old frame but comfortable nonetheless. He followed Zeke out of the room, excitement bubbling up inside him at the prospect of the morning sparring session.

Zeke led the way down a narrow staircase, the muffled thump of music growing louder as they descended into the main area of the nightclub. The place was empty now, with chairs stacked on tables and the bar area still cluttered from the night before. The scent of sweat, alcohol, and something sweet lingered in the air, a reminder of the night's revelry.

They passed through the main room and down another set of stairs, this time leading into the basement. The air grew cooler, and the sounds from above faded away, replaced by the echo of their footsteps against the concrete floor. At the bottom of the stairs, a long hallway stretched out before them, lined with various doors leading to storage rooms, private areas, and, finally, the gymnasium.

Outside the gymnasium, Aaron stood leaning against the wall, his posture relaxed but his expression serious. He wore a pair of small headphones, the faint sound of music barely audible as he listened to something intense. He had grown taller since Nicholas last remembered him at 10, now standing at about 5'7". His ears were pierced, small silver hoop rings glinting under the dim lighting. Aaron looked more like a man now—stronger, more confident, but still with that same protective aura he'd always had.

When he saw Zeke and Nicholas approaching, Aaron gave a small smirk, nodding in greeting. "Morning," he said coolly, giving Nicholas a gentle, affectionate tap on the back of his head. His expression softened slightly as he looked at his little brother.

"Good morning," Nicholas replied, his voice full of energy as he returned the tap playfully.

Zeke clapped a hand on Aaron's head, ruffling his hair slightly. "You ready to get your ass kicked, big man?" Zeke teased, a wide grin on his face.

Aaron smiled, the seriousness momentarily lifting from his features. "Not today, Zeke," he replied confidently, his voice tinged with amusement.

Zeke chuckled and opened the door to the gymnasium. The room was large and spacious, the walls lined with training equipment and various weapons hanging on racks. In the center of the room was a large, open area with padded flooring, perfect for sparring. At the far end, sitting casually on the floor with his back against the wall, was Dante Omen. He was dressed in a simple training outfit—a tank top and sweatpants—his skin glistening with sweat from a previous exercise. Despite the informal setting, Dante still exuded that same cool, collected demeanor that always made Nicholas uneasy.

Nicholas respected Dante for his strength and the role he played in their lives, but there was an underlying sense of mistrust that Nicholas couldn't shake. Something about Dante's calculated demeanor kept Nicholas from letting his guard down around him.

Dante glanced up as they entered, his sharp eyes taking in the group with a practiced, calculating gaze. "Shall we begin?" he asked, his voice smooth and commanding.

Nicholas was already bouncing on the balls of his feet, eager to get started. He turned to Zeke, a challenging grin spreading across his face. "You first, motherfucker," Nicholas said, the words coming out with playful defiance.

Zeke grinned right back, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Bring it on, little man."

They moved to the center of the gymnasium, facing each other with a mix of camaraderie and competitive energy. Aaron stood to the side, crossing his arms as he watched, a slight smile playing on his lips. Dante remained where he was, his expression neutral but interested in the proceedings.

Zeke and Nicholas took their stances, both of them ready and focused. Nicholas could feel the familiar hum of his Aura stirring within him, a powerful energy that made his skin tingle and his heart race. He had been training hard these past five years, and his control over his Aura had grown considerably. But even so, there was always more to learn, more to master.

"Come on, Nick," Zeke taunted lightly. "Show me what you've got."

Nicholas didn't need any more encouragement. With a deep breath, he let his Aura flare to life. A beautiful purple energy burst from him, swirling around his body like flames and lightning. It crackled and pulsed, a fierce and vibrant display of power that filled the room with its intensity. The Aura felt alive, responding to his every movement, and Nicholas felt a surge of pride at how far he had come.

What made Nicholas's Aura even more remarkable was the small yet potent amount of electricity he could manifest—a rare ability, especially for someone so young. As his Aura flared, Zeke could feel the tiny electric shocks that accompanied Nicholas's strikes, a tingling sensation that added an extra layer of challenge to their sparring sessions.

Zeke's grin widened as he watched Nicholas's Aura unfold. He released a small amount of his own Aura, just enough to create a soft, teal glow around his body. It wasn't much, but it was enough to show that he wasn't taking Nicholas lightly.

The room was still for a moment, the air thick with anticipation. Then, with a mutual nod, the two of them launched into action.

Nicholas moved first, darting forward with a speed that belied his age. His fists flew, aiming for Zeke's midsection, but Zeke was quick, sidestepping and deflecting the blows with ease. The gymnasium echoed with the sounds of their sparring—grunts, the thud of fists against flesh, the sharp crackle of Aura as it flared and collided.

Zeke retaliated with a series of quick jabs, his movements smooth and practiced. Nicholas dodged, using his smaller size to his advantage as he ducked and weaved, countering with a spinning kick that Zeke narrowly avoided.

"Not bad, Nick," Zeke said, his tone light but tinged with genuine respect. "You're getting faster."

Nicholas didn't respond, too focused on the fight to banter. His Aura flared brighter, and he pushed forward, pressing Zeke with a relentless barrage of punches and kicks. Each strike was backed by the power of his purple Aura, leaving faint trails of energy in the air. Zeke could feel the small stings of electricity with each of Nicholas's hits, a testament to the young boy's unique and formidable ability.

Zeke was pushed back slightly, but he held his ground, his teal Aura shimmering as he blocked and deflected each attack. He was stronger, more experienced, but Nicholas's determination and raw talent were undeniable. It was clear that the younger boy was growing into a formidable fighter.

The fight continued, a blur of movement and energy as the two combatants clashed in the center of the gymnasium. Aaron watched intently from the sidelines, his gaze sharp and focused. He could see the improvement in Nicholas's form, the way his brother was learning to harness his Aura more effectively with each passing day.

Dante, too, observed with interest, his expression unreadable. Though he didn't often intervene in their training, he was always watching, always assessing. Nicholas could feel the weight of Dante's gaze, but he pushed it to the back of his mind, focusing solely on the fight in front of him.

Finally, with a burst of speed, Nicholas managed to slip past Zeke's defenses, landing a solid hit to the older boy's side. Zeke grunted, the force of the blow making him stagger slightly. But before Nicholas could follow up, Zeke spun around, using the momentum to deliver a swift kick that caught Nicholas in the chest, sending him sprawling to the floor.

Nicholas hit the ground with a thud, the wind knocked out of him. But instead of disappointment, he felt a rush of exhilaration. He had managed to hold his own against Zeke, even if only for a moment.

Zeke offered him a hand, grinning down at him. "Good job, Nick. You're getting better."

Nicholas accepted the hand, allowing Zeke to pull him to his feet. He was breathing hard,

but the smile on his face was genuine. "Thanks, Zeke. But next time, I'm winning for sure."

Zeke laughed, ruffling Nicholas's hair. "We'll see about that, little man. We'll see."

As they stood there, catching their breath, Aaron approached, giving Nicholas a nod of approval. "You did well, Nick," he said, his tone sincere. "Keep training like this, and you'll surpass all of us in no time."

Nicholas beamed at the praise, his heart swelling with pride. He glanced over at Dante, who remained seated at the back of the gymnasium. The older man's expression was as inscrutable as ever, but Nicholas thought he saw a flicker of approval in Dante's eyes.

"Enough for now," Dante said, his voice calm but firm. "Rest and recover. There's more to come today."

Nicholas nodded, feeling a mix of exhaustion and excitement. The morning sparring session was over, but the day was just beginning. And with each passing day, Nicholas knew he was getting closer to uncovering the true potential of his Aura—and to the destiny that awaited him.

The atmosphere in the gymnasium shifted the moment Dante rose to his feet, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. Aaron's playful demeanor from earlier was gone, replaced by a steely focus as he stepped forward to meet Dante in the center of the gymnasium. It was a routine they had followed countless times over the past five years—yet every time, Aaron felt the same cold anticipation in the pit of his stomach.

Dante regarded Aaron with his usual calm, cold expression. There was no malice in his eyes, but there was also no mercy. "Remember, Aaron," Dante said, his voice as smooth and controlled as ever, "you have to go for the kill."

It was the same directive he had given Aaron since their very first training session. And Dante meant it—every single time. Aaron knew that if he didn't approach this fight with lethal intent, he would be the one lying on the floor in a broken heap. Over the years, Dante had drilled into him the importance of absolute focus and the willingness to destroy any opponent that stood in his way. Yet despite this, Aaron had never once managed to defeat Dante. He wasn't even sure if Dante had ever used more than a fraction of his full strength during their fights.

As Aaron took his position, Zeke leaned casually against the wall, but there was a seriousness in his eyes that belied his usual easygoing nature. "Don't go too far, guys," Zeke said with a half-smile. "We just finished repairing the room from your last clash."

Aaron didn't respond. His eyes were locked on Dante, who was now releasing his Aura with a casual ease that made it all the more terrifying. The dark, deep red energy flickered around Dante like a flame, a visible manifestation of the danger that radiated from him. Even though he was only using a small amount of his power, the sheer intensity of it made the air feel heavy, oppressive. Everyone in the room could feel it—this was overkill.

But Aaron didn't flinch. He couldn't afford to. He let his own Aura flare to life, the pure blue energy swirling around him, crackling with the promise of power. This wasn't a game. This was life or death, even if only metaphorically. The stakes were higher than they had ever been, and Aaron knew that if he didn't give it his all, Dante would not hesitate to punish him for it.

With a single, unspoken signal, they both moved.

The two figures blurred, their forms almost indistinguishable as they clashed in the center of the gymnasium. Their speed was beyond human, their movements so quick that to an untrained eye, they would appear as nothing more than flashes of light and shadow. Aaron struck first, his fists a blur as he launched a series of rapid attacks at Dante. Each punch was precise, aimed to disable or kill, just as Dante had taught him. But Dante was always one step ahead, effortlessly sidestepping, blocking, and countering with a grace that belied the power behind his movements.

Zeke watched from the sidelines, his eyes following the rapid exchange with the practiced eye of a seasoned fighter. Despite his playful demeanor, he was acutely aware of the deadly seriousness of the match. Aaron was fast—faster than he had ever been—but Dante was still leagues ahead. Every hit Aaron landed seemed to bounce off Dante, who remained unfazed and in control.

Dante's attacks were the polar opposite of Aaron's. While Aaron struck with a flurry of blows, Dante's moves were minimalistic, each one precise and deliberate. He didn't waste energy on unnecessary actions. Every punch, every kick, was a calculated strike that landed with devastating accuracy. The difference in their experience was painfully clear. Aaron, despite his immense power and skill, was still playing catch-up to a man who had long mastered the art of combat.

In the span of what felt like seconds, Dante had parried nearly all of Aaron's attacks, only to deliver his own with brutal efficiency. Aaron felt the impact of each blow—sharp, powerful, and unavoidable. It was as if Dante knew exactly where to strike, exploiting the smallest gaps in Aaron's defense. Aaron pushed himself harder, his Aura flaring brighter as he tried to close the gap between their skill levels. He nearly doubled the amount of moves Dante did, but it wasn't enough.

The final exchange happened so quickly that Aaron barely had time to react. Dante sidestepped a particularly aggressive punch, spinning on his heel to deliver a brutal, bone-crunching punch to Aaron's face. The force of the blow sent Aaron flying across the gymnasium, his body slamming into the wall with a resounding crack. The impact was enough to shatter the drywall beneath him, and Aaron crumpled to the ground, his Aura flickering out as consciousness nearly slipped away.

For a moment, the room was silent, save for the faint sound of Aaron's labored breathing. Dante stood where he was, his Aura dissipating into the air as if it had never been there. He looked down at Aaron with the same cold, calculating expression he always had.

"You weren't trying to go for the kill," Dante said, his voice as calm as ever. "And that's why you always lose."

With those words, Dante turned on his heel and walked toward the exit of the gymnasium. His presence seemed to lift as he moved, the oppressive weight of his Aura fading with him. Before he left, he paused at the door, glancing back at Zeke.

"Take care of their wounds and have them in my office," Dante ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument.

Zeke gave a lazy salute, his easygoing grin returning. "You got it, boss."

As the door closed behind Dante, Zeke moved to Aaron's side, kneeling down beside the younger boy. Aaron's eyes were open, but they were unfocused, still reeling from the impact of Dante's final blow.

"Damn, Aaron," Zeke said, a note of concern in his voice as he gently lifted Aaron to a sitting position. "You really gave it your all, didn't you?"

Aaron didn't answer immediately, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. His body ached all over, every muscle screaming in protest. But despite the pain, there was a grim determination in his eyes. He knew he had given it everything he had, but it still hadn't been enough.

"Don't worry," Zeke said with a reassuring smile as he began to check Aaron for any serious injuries. "You're getting stronger every day. One of these days, you might actually land a solid hit on him."

Aaron managed a weak smile, though the sting of defeat was still fresh. "Yeah… maybe."

As Zeke continued to tend to Aaron's wounds, Nicholas watched from a distance, his own emotions a complex mix of admiration, fear, and determination. He knew that one day, he too would face challenges like this. But for now, all he could do was learn, train, and grow stronger.

Because in this world, strength was the only thing that mattered.

Zeke helped Aaron to his feet, steadying him as they made their way out of the gymnasium. The walls around them seemed to close in slightly, the echoes of their footsteps a stark contrast to the adrenaline-fueled intensity of the fight they'd just left behind. Nicholas trailed behind them, his young mind still processing everything he'd witnessed.

As they walked down the corridor, heading towards the infirmary, Zeke broke the silence. "You know, Aaron, I think Dante was going easy on you today."

Aaron glanced at Zeke, a frown tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Easy? Didn't feel like it."

Zeke chuckled, though there was a hint of seriousness in his tone. "Yeah, but trust me, kid. When I was your age, a fight like that would've left me with broken limbs, maybe a shattered nose. Dante doesn't hold back for anyone. But with you… it's like he has a soft spot or something."

Aaron's frown deepened. The idea that Dante might be holding back wasn't exactly comforting. It only served to remind him of the vast gulf between their abilities. He was 15 now, just six years younger than Zeke, but the difference in their power levels felt insurmountable. Zeke was a natural, one of the most talented Aura users Aaron had ever seen. To think that even at Zeke's age, Dante had been more brutal, more unrelenting—it was disheartening.

As they continued walking, the conversation shifted naturally into a more casual tone. Zeke, sensing Aaron's mood, decided to lighten the atmosphere with a bit of banter.

"So, what do you think, Nick?" Zeke asked, glancing over his shoulder at Nicholas. "How's your big bro doing? Think he's getting better?"

Nicholas, who had been silently absorbing everything, perked up at the question. "Aaron's awesome! But… do you really think Dante's going easy on him?"

Zeke shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "It's hard to say for sure, but Dante's a complicated guy. You've probably noticed by now that he's not like most people. He's got a lot of layers, and figuring him out is half the challenge."

They walked past a few doors, each leading to different rooms within Dante's nightclub. The sounds of the world above—the distant thrum of music, the occasional muffled shout—faded into the background as they continued deeper into the building. The hallway grew darker, the lights dimming as they approached the infirmary.

Nicholas furrowed his brow, clearly intrigued by what Zeke was saying. "What do you mean?"

Zeke paused, considering how to phrase his response. "Well, you know how Dante runs things around here, right? The River Styx isn't exactly a safe place, but under his rule, it's a lot more stable than it used to be. Before Dante came into power, this place was a war zone—gangs fighting for territory, leaders with Aura abilities causing chaos. It was a mess. But Dante… he's got a way of bringing order to things. He's been running his private security business since he was 15. What started off as a gang, he always called it an 'organization.' He's been building it up for years."

"Yeah," Aaron said, his voice low. "He's done more than just build a business. He's changed this whole area."

Zeke nodded, a hint of pride in his voice. "Exactly. He's the uncrowned king of the River Styx. No one messes with him, and because of that, there's a kind of balance here now. Sure, he works with all kinds of people—from the ultra-famous to drug dealers and arms dealers—but that's what keeps the peace. Everyone knows Dante's in charge, and they respect him for it."

Zeke's tone shifted slightly, growing more serious as he continued. "Dante's not a cruel man, but he's a very serious businessman. He's greedy, but not in the way you'd think. He doesn't take from others, but he always gets what's owed to him. And if anyone takes something from him… well, you've seen what he's capable of. He's brutal, unwavering. He doesn't see us as peers, you know? We're his belongings, his investments. And if anyone messes with what belongs to him, they'll be destroyed—by his hands, personally."

Nicholas's eyes widened as he listened, absorbing the information. "And he finds people like you and Aaron to work for him?"

"Pretty much," Zeke confirmed. "Dante's got an eye for talent. He can spot a naturally gifted Aura user from a mile away. That's how he's built his organization—by finding people with potential and giving them a place to grow. It's not easy, though. Most people can't just become Aura specialists. It takes years of training, or you have to be born with a gift."

As they reached the infirmary door, Zeke paused and turned to Aaron. "You're one of the strongest in his organization, you know? Fifth in rank, and that's not something to take lightly. But don't let it get to you that Dante's holding back. It just means he sees potential in you that maybe even you don't see yet."

Aaron didn't respond immediately, his mind churning over everything Zeke had said. The idea that Dante might actually care about his progress was both encouraging and frustrating. He wanted to be stronger—to be able to stand on equal footing with Dante one day. But for now, all he could do was keep training, keep pushing himself, and hope that someday, he'd be able to close the gap.

Zeke placed a hand on Aaron's shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "Come on, let's get those wounds checked out. Then we can see what Dante has in store for us next."

The door to the infirmary swung open with a quiet creak, revealing a room that was a stark contrast to the rest of the gritty, dimly lit nightclub. It was bright, clean, and surprisingly cozy, with various medical supplies neatly arranged on shelves along the walls. The faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air, mingling with a hint of something sweet—like vanilla.

As they stepped inside, they were greeted by the sight of a young woman who immediately brightened at the sight of them. Liz was short, with beautiful light brown hair that framed her face in soft waves. She was dressed in casual streetwear, including a cropped top that revealed just a hint of her toned midriff. Her turquoise Aura, barely visible, seemed to shimmer with a warm, healing energy.

"Nicky!" she exclaimed, her eyes lighting up as she spotted Nicholas. Without hesitation, she rushed over and enveloped him in a tight hug, shaking him playfully as she did. "Look at you, getting bigger every day! You're just the cutest thing ever."

Nicholas laughed, returning the hug as best as he could despite Liz's exuberance. "Hi, Liz!"

She released Nicholas and turned her attention to Aaron, her expression shifting from playful to concerned in an instant. "Oh my God, Aaron, look at you!" she said, her voice filled with worry as she took in the bruises and cuts on his body. "What have they done to you this time?"

Aaron gave a small, almost sheepish smile as Liz guided him to sit on the examination table. "Just training," he muttered, wincing slightly as he moved.

Liz rolled her eyes, though her concern was genuine. "Training, huh? Well, let's see what we're working with here." She glanced over at Zeke, her brow furrowing slightly. "Zeke, you're supposed to be looking out for him, not letting him get all banged up like this."

Zeke, who had been leaning casually against the wall, straightened up a bit, his usual laid-back demeanor faltering slightly. He ran a hand through his wild afro, trying to play it cool despite the fact that Liz's words had clearly flustered him. "Hey, I'm doing my best here. You know how Dante is."

Liz huffed softly, turning her attention back to Aaron. "Well, let's get you patched up." She placed her hands gently on Aaron's shoulders, and almost immediately, her turquoise Aura flared to life, the soft glow spreading from her fingertips and enveloping Aaron's body in a soothing light.

As the healing energy flowed through him, Aaron felt the tension and pain in his muscles begin to ease. Liz's Aura was warm, comforting, and it had a way of making even the worst injuries feel like nothing more than a distant memory. Still, Liz wasn't just healing him—she was also checking for any serious damage.

"Take off your shirt, Aaron," Liz instructed gently, her voice all business now.

Aaron complied, pulling off his shirt to reveal a lean, muscular torso. Despite his youth, his body was already in peak physical condition, a testament to the intense training he had undergone. But his skin also bore the marks of that training—scars crisscrossed his chest and back, a silent reminder of the battles he had fought and the lessons he had learned.

Liz frowned as she examined the scars, her hands moving carefully over his skin, the turquoise glow of her Aura illuminating each old wound. "You've been through a lot," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. "You need to take better care of yourself, Aaron."

Zeke, trying to lighten the mood, leaned in with a smirk. "He's a tough kid. Just like I was at his age, right?"

Liz shot him a look, half-amused, half-annoyed. "Yeah, and look where that got you—constantly in here getting patched up."

Zeke chuckled, though there was a hint of nervousness in his laughter. He'd always tried to be smooth around Liz, but something about her presence made him a little more serious, a little more aware of himself. It didn't help that he had a massive crush on her—a fact that he went to great lengths to hide.

As Liz continued to heal Aaron, she glanced up at Zeke, curiosity in her eyes. "So, what kind of jobs do you think Dante's going to send Aaron on this time?"

Zeke shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned against the wall again, trying to maintain his usual cool composure. "Who knows? There's always something brewing in the River Styx, but nothing Dante—or should I say Cerberus—can't handle. Things have been stirring up lately, but we're ready for whatever comes our way."

Liz nodded thoughtfully as she finished her work, the glow of her Aura fading as she stepped back. "Just be careful, okay? I don't want to see either of you getting hurt more than you already have."

Aaron offered her a small, appreciative smile as he pulled his shirt back on. "Thanks, Liz. I'll be careful."

Zeke gave Liz a quick nod, his usual grin returning. "Thanks, Liz. We'll be back in one piece, don't you worry."

Liz smiled back at them, though there was still a hint of worry in her eyes. "You better be. Now go on, Dante's waiting for you."

With that, the three of them left the infirmary, making their way back upstairs to Dante's office. The hallway felt longer this time, the anticipation of whatever awaited them in Dante's office adding weight to their steps. But Aaron felt lighter, his body healed, and his mind sharper, thanks to Liz's care.

As they approached the office, Aaron couldn't help but think about everything Zeke had said. Dante was a complicated man—serious, calculating, and powerful. But there was more to him, something that Aaron was determined to understand, even if it took everything he had.

The hallway leading to Dante's office was long and dimly lit, the shadows clinging to the walls as if reluctant to let go. As they approached the heavy wooden door, Zeke glanced at Aaron and Nicholas, giving them a small nod of reassurance. But there was a tension in the air, a weight that settled over them as they reached the end of the corridor.

Dante's office door creaked open, revealing a room that was strikingly different from the rest of the nightclub. The walls were painted a deep, rich red, giving the space a feeling of both warmth and intensity. The office was decorated with various awards and plaques, each one meticulously placed on the walls, showcasing Dante's various achievements and charitable contributions—though everyone knew these were just as much about maintaining a certain image as they were about the causes themselves.

Dante sat behind a large, polished wooden desk, his expression unreadable as always. He gestured for them to sit, and they complied, Zeke taking a seat beside Aaron and Nicholas. The room was quiet, the atmosphere thick with anticipation as Dante leaned back in his chair, regarding each of them in turn.

"I've got assignments for each of you," Dante began, his voice calm and measured, as if he were discussing nothing more significant than the weather. But there was an underlying current of intensity in his tone that none of them could miss.

He turned his gaze to Aaron first. "Aaron, you'll be on guard detail for a weapons deal. It's with a gang led by a man named Sammy. He's a low-level Aura specialist, and he needs some extra backup in case things go south. The people he's buying from aren't the most trustworthy, but they carry some of the best weapons in the River Styx. I want you there to make sure everything goes smoothly."

Aaron nodded, taking the assignment in stride, though he felt a flicker of unease. Weapons deals could be unpredictable, but he trusted his abilities.

Dante then shifted his attention to Zeke. "Zeke, you'll be watching the nightclub tonight."

Zeke raised an eyebrow, a hint of protest in his voice as he spoke. "Watching the nightclub? Come on, Dante, there's no damsel in distress or high-profile celebrity that needs protecting? I mean, why not just stay here yourself? You're always here every night anyway."

Dante's expression darkened, the air in the room seeming to grow heavier as he fixed Zeke with a cold stare. "One of our men was killed last night," Dante said, his voice low but carrying a weight that made the hairs on the back of Aaron's neck stand up. "It was during a drug deal that went wrong. The Aura Guards from the Nexus of Balance showed up, and things got messy. The leader of the Abyss gang lost control of his Aura—he was untamed, unstable, and killed several people, including one of ours."

The silence that followed was suffocating. Dante's eyes were hard, his demeanor unyielding as he continued. "I don't tolerate that kind of disrespect. I'll be settling the score personally."

Zeke, who had been leaning back in his chair, suddenly straightened, the seriousness of the situation sinking in. "Understood, boss," he said quietly, all traces of his usual levity gone.

Dante's gaze softened slightly as he turned to Nicholas, though the intensity in his eyes never fully dissipated. "Nicholas," he began, his tone shifting to something almost paternal, "I've got a job for you too."

Nicholas, who had been sitting quietly, listening intently to the conversation, perked up, a mixture of excitement and nerves flashing across his face.

"You'll be supervising one of our warehouses," Dante continued. "We're packaging up some products, getting them ready to hit the streets. It's a simple job—just keep an eye on things, make sure everything goes smoothly."

Aaron's immediate reaction was to protest. "Dante, he's too young for this. He doesn't need to be doing jobs yet."

Dante's eyes narrowed slightly, though his tone remained calm. "He's the same age you were when you started, Aaron. And this job is simple—he'll be safe. The warehouse is in a quiet part of the district, and not many people know about it. He'll be fine. Besides, he'll just be in the top room, probably playing video games while keeping an eye on things. Nothing to worry about."

Nicholas, sensing his brother's concern, quickly spoke up. "I can handle it, Aaron. It's just a warehouse. I'll be fine."

Aaron looked between Dante and Nicholas, his jaw clenched. But seeing the determination in Nicholas's eyes, he finally relented, albeit reluctantly. "Okay… but be careful."

Nicholas nodded, giving his brother a small smile. "I will."

Dante leaned back in his chair, his gaze sweeping over them one last time. "Good. Now get ready, all of you. We've got work to do."

With that, the meeting was over. The tension in the room lingered as they stood to leave, each of them lost in their own thoughts about the tasks ahead. As they exited the office, the weight of the world outside seemed to press down on them even more heavily. The River Styx was a dangerous place, and they all knew that no matter how well they prepared, nothing was ever guaranteed.

Nicholas arrived at the warehouse as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the streets of the River Styx. The building was nondescript, blending in with the other industrial structures around it. But Nicholas knew that behind those plain walls, something far from ordinary was taking place.

He entered the warehouse, passing by workers who barely acknowledged his presence, their focus on the task at hand—packing drugs into crates that would soon be distributed across the district. Nicholas made his way to the top box room, a secluded space overlooking the entire warehouse floor. The room was a stark contrast to the grim reality below. It was plush, comfortable, with soft couches, a large TV, and a few other amenities that made it feel more like a cozy den than a control room.

Nicholas settled in, his portable video game in hand. The hum of activity below was a distant noise, barely noticeable as he lost himself in the game. Every so often, he glanced up, checking on the workers, but everything seemed to be running smoothly. The job was simple, just as Dante had promised. There was nothing to worry about.

Time passed, and Nicholas grew more engrossed in his game, the rhythmic tapping of buttons the only sound in the quiet room. But then, without warning, a deafening explosion echoed through the warehouse, shaking the very foundation of the building. Nicholas's head snapped up, his heart pounding in his chest as he looked out the window.

The front door had been blown off its hinges, shards of metal and wood scattering across the warehouse floor. Smoke billowed into the room, obscuring the figures that stormed in. Nicholas's stomach dropped as he recognized the uniforms—the Nexus of Balance. Aura Guards. And there were at least ten of them.

The leader of the group stepped forward, his imposing figure cutting through the haze. He was a big, older Black man, his muscles straining against his uniform. He had to be in his fifties or sixties, but his presence was nothing short of formidable. His face was partially obscured by the smoke, but his voice was clear and commanding as he shouted, "Everyone get on the ground! This is a raid! You're all under arrest!"

Panic surged through Nicholas as he watched the workers scramble to comply. But something inside him wouldn't allow him to just sit back and watch. His heart raced, but his mind was made up. He couldn't let these Aura Guards take over the warehouse—not on his watch.

He powered up, feeling his Aura surge through him, a familiar but still exhilarating sensation. The purple energy flared to life around him, crackling with a fierce intensity. Without hesitation, Nicholas launched himself forward, shattering the glass of the box room window as he shot through it like a bullet.

The Aura Guards barely had time to react before Nicholas was upon them. He crashed down on one of them, the impact sending the guard sprawling to the ground, unconscious. The other guards moved to intercept him, but Nicholas was already moving, speed blitzing the second and third guards with a flurry of powerful strikes. His Aura crackled like lightning, the raw energy propelling him forward as he took down one guard after another.

But as he moved to take down the fourth guard, something stopped him in his tracks. The older leader of the group had stepped in, his Aura flaring to life as he created a construct—a barrier of energy that blocked Nicholas's attack.

"That's enough of you," the leader said, his voice calm but firm as he stared down at Nicholas.

Nicholas gritted his teeth, pushing against the barrier with everything he had. But the older man's Aura was like a wall, impenetrable and unyielding. For the first time, Nicholas felt a pang of doubt. This wasn't like the training sessions with Zeke or the fights he'd had with lower-level thugs. This was real, and this man was no ordinary Aura user.

The leader's eyes narrowed as he looked Nicholas over, assessing him with the practiced eye of someone who had seen countless battles. "You're strong, kid," he said, his tone almost admiring. "But you're not ready for this."

Nicholas's Aura flared brighter, his resolve hardening despite the overwhelming force pushing back against him. He wasn't about to give up—not when so much was at stake. But even as he dug deep, searching for more power, he knew that he was up against someone far beyond his level.

The leader's Aura construct began to shift, the energy rippling as it moved to engulf Nicholas. "Stand down," the man commanded, his voice carrying the weight of an order that was not to be disobeyed.

But Nicholas wasn't ready to surrender—not yet.

The tension in the warehouse was palpable as Nicholas squared off against the leader of the Nexus of Balance raid. His mind raced, trying to figure out how he could possibly overcome this towering opponent. The man's green Aura crackled with raw power, a stark contrast to Nicholas's own purple energy that flickered around him like flames. But Nicholas was determined. He couldn't back down now.

He dashed forward, using his Aura to propel himself with blinding speed. His form blurred as he aimed for the man's torso, hoping to land a decisive blow. But every strike he threw was either dodged, parried, or blocked by the leader's effortless movements. The man was tracking his every move, countering Nicholas's attacks with precision and ease.

Still, Nicholas refused to give up. He managed to land a few shallow scratches on the man's cheek, but it wasn't nearly enough. The man's eyes gleamed with something like admiration as he regarded the young boy before him. "This kid's probably around a C5," he thought to himself, recognizing the potential in Nicholas but understanding that it wasn't enough to be a real threat. Not to him.

Realizing that his physical attacks were ineffective, Nicholas made a split-second decision. He needed to use more of his energy, even if it meant depleting his reserves. Gathering his Aura into his hands, he unleashed a barrage of energy blasts, each one a glowing ball of purple that shot towards the leader with ferocious intensity.

The leader batted them away with his own Aura-infused hands, the blasts exploding upon impact with the walls behind him. The warehouse shook with the force of the explosions, but the man remained unfazed. He moved forward with a speed that Nicholas hadn't anticipated, closing the distance between them in an instant.

Nicholas sprang back, his reflexes saving him from a direct hit. But he knew he couldn't keep this up for long. His stamina was draining fast, and the leader wasn't showing any signs of slowing down. Desperate, Nicholas decided to put everything he had into one final attack.

He gathered all his remaining Aura, focusing it into his hand until it burned like a small sun. His muscles tensed, and with a fierce cry, he swung his arm down in a wild chop, releasing the energy in the form of a massive blade-like wave. The energy shot forward, cutting through the air with a deadly hum, and crashed into the leader with a violent explosion.

For a brief moment, Nicholas thought he had done it. The force of the explosion was enough to shake the entire warehouse, and the smoke and debris clouded his vision. Exhausted, he turned to run, hoping to escape while he still had the chance.

But just as he turned, the man was there, as if he had materialized out of thin air. Nicholas barely had time to react before the leader's hand was in his face, an energy blast of his own crackling ominously in his palm.

"Stand down," the man commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.

Nicholas's breath caught in his throat. For the first time, he got a clear look at the man's face. There was something hauntingly familiar about him—his features, his eyes. The realization struck Nicholas like a bolt of lightning. "Ezekiel?" he whispered, the name slipping out before he could stop it.

The man's eyes narrowed in confusion. "What did you say?"

"Ezekiel…" Nicholas repeated, his voice trembling. The fight drained out of him as he stared at the man, his mind flashing back to the memories of the village, the shack, and the old man who had trained his brother.

The leader's expression shifted, a mixture of shock and something else—pain? "How do you know that name?" he demanded, his voice suddenly rough, as if the words were difficult to say. "Why are you saying my brother's name? How do you know Ezekiel?"

Nicholas could barely process what he was hearing. The man in front of him… Ezekiel's brother? The resemblance was uncanny now that he could see it clearly, but the revelation left him reeling. "Your brother…?"

The man's Aura flared slightly, a surge of emotion behind it. "Tell me how you know him. Now."

But Nicholas couldn't respond, the weight of everything that had happened crashing down on him at once. All he could do was stand there, staring up at the man who was both a stranger and yet, somehow, painfully familiar.

The tension in the warehouse was almost unbearable as Nicholas and Xavier stood frozen, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. The green Aura around Xavier pulsed slightly, reacting to the flood of memories and the shock of hearing his brother's name from this young boy. Nicholas, still reeling from the revelation, couldn't bring himself to speak, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it all.

But then, cutting through the heavy silence, came the unmistakable sound of polished shoes—sharp, deliberate clacks against the concrete floor. The sound grew louder, echoing through the warehouse as a figure emerged from the swirling dust and debris.

Dante.

He walked in with the same calm, collected demeanor he always carried, his sharp suit somehow immaculate despite the chaos around him. The dust and smoke seemed to part for him as he approached, his presence commanding the attention of everyone in the room. His eyes, cold and calculating, landed on Xavier first.

"Xavier," Dante said, his voice smooth, almost casual, as if greeting an old acquaintance. "It's been a long time."

Xavier's eyes narrowed as he turned to face Dante, his hand lowering as he recognized the man before him. But the expression on his face was far from friendly. It was one of disgust, revulsion, as if the very sight of Dante sickened him.

"Dante," Xavier spat, his voice dripping with contempt. "You sick bastard."

Dante's smile didn't falter, though there was a dangerous glint in his eyes. He stopped a few paces away from Xavier, his gaze flicking briefly to Nicholas before returning to the older man. "What are you doing with one of my pups, Master?" Dante's tone was light, almost teasing, but there was an undercurrent of something far more sinister beneath it.

Xavier bristled at the word "Master," the title clearly one he didn't appreciate hearing from Dante. "Your pups?" Xavier repeated, his voice low, barely concealing the anger simmering beneath the surface. "Is that what you call these kids now? Your belongings? You're even sicker than I thought."

Dante chuckled softly, but it was a sound devoid of any real warmth. "You wound me, Xavier. But let's not pretend we're here to exchange pleasantries. I'm more interested in what you're doing here… and why you're meddling in my affairs."

The two men stood there, locked in a silent battle of wills, the tension between them crackling like the Aura that still hung in the air. Nicholas watched them both, his heart pounding in his chest, caught between fear and confusion. He didn't fully understand the history between these two powerful figures, but he could sense that whatever it was, it ran deep.

Xavier's hand clenched into a fist at his side, his green Aura flaring slightly before he forced it down. "You haven't changed, Dante. Still playing your twisted games, still using people like they're nothing but tools for your own gain."

Dante's smile widened ever so slightly, but his eyes remained cold, unreadable. "And you, Master, are still trying to save the world one lost cause at a time. How noble."

The air grew heavier, the anticipation thick as both men sized each other up. It was clear that whatever happened next would be crucial, and the outcome would be anything but simple.