"Boss, just cut off his legs. That way, he won't be able to go to school anymore."
"Yeah," another one chimed in with a laugh. "Then Mia will never be able to meet him again."
The mohawk-haired youth nodded slowly.
"You're right."
The fire whip in his hand slackened, then dissipated into fading embers.
The binding was released.
The Kapasyl youth staggered. His transformation collapsed, the wooden fibers on his skin fading as his body slowly returned to its human form. His energy was nearly depleted. His legs gave out, and he collapsed onto the ground.
Burn marks still covered his body, darkened red and black, aching even when touched by the air.
He lifted his face.
His gaze was filled with pain.
But it was not a plea for mercy.
Nor was it fear.
It was hatred.
Hatred toward them.
And hatred toward himself for being powerless to fight back.
"I really don't like that look in your eyes," the mohawk-haired youth muttered, spitting to the side.
He stepped forward.
