"Don't cry, Conor. Dad isn't here anymore, but Mom will never leave you. I'll always be by your side… I promise."
That was the day. The day our father abandoned us.
Since then, I've become impulsive, too sensitive.
Mom always taught me manners—I know I'm a good person deep down.
But my impulsiveness ruins everything—even my relationship with her.
A glass shattered on the floor.
"I've had enough, Conor! I don't know where you learned to get so carried away with your emotions, but it wasn't from me! Get a grip, or get out!"
Deep down… it's not her fault.
She's already paying my rent…
I live alone now. My scholarship keeps me fed.
If she had completely abandoned me, I wouldn't have survived.
I'm sorry, Mom…
I can't control myself.
Even Marta noticed.
I wish I could do better, see Mom again, build a healthy, lasting relationship with Marta…
Deep down, I'm garbage. I hate myself so much.
Silas' voice snapped him out of his thoughts.
"Are you listening?"
He looked up.
"Huh? Did you just speak to me?"
Silas nodded.
"Yes. I did. Any news from Marta?"
"Uh… yeah, she's fine. She sent me a photo this morning on her way to school. Why?"
He spoke calmly.
"Just asking. You're being hunted by a very dangerous gang. You need to check on her often. And don't get too comfortable with the calm right now."
Conor grabbed his phone.
"You're right. I'll see how she's doing."
On her side, Marta sighed as she got off the bus.
"Ugh… I hate this stop. It's right in front of the ghettos. But there's no choice, it's the school bus target…"
The stop was dirty, grim.
She stood there, replying to Conor's message.
"So cute… he must be worried…" she thought, smiling faintly.
Suddenly, her eyes froze.
She stopped typing.
"No… no way… this can't be… no!! I can't believe it!!"
She stared at a poster in front of her.
With a sharp movement, she ripped it off and stuffed it in her bag.
"No, no, no… I have to warn them!!"
Three days earlier.
A grim building.
Dark alleyways.
Young people and men, all with heavy eyes, scarred, devoid of humanity.
Lines of people, zombie-like, waited their turn.
Deep in this neighborhood, inside an abandoned warehouse, guards stood watch, crates of drugs stacked, supplies piled high…
And above it all, a massive tag: "OSIRIS."
The man sitting in the center of the room stared at a group of kneeling teenagers.
"So? What have you accomplished to avenge my little brother?"
One of them stood.
It was the high school kid who had confronted Conor and Silas.
"Sir! We managed to catch Conor, but… he got away!"
The man slammed his fist on the chair arm, rage in his eyes.
"How??!! You were three on him!! How could he escape, you useless idiots?!"
The kid stammered,
"Sorry, sir! But… the problem wasn't Conor… it was the man with him."
He gestured to his two friends.
"Stand up."
The two rise hesitantly.
"As you can see, my two friends here are badly bruised, one at the temple, the other at the jaw."
The man furrowed his brows.
The kid continued,
"We had Conor. He had no way out. But his friend showed up and, in an instant, knocked down two of your soldiers. Then he used the chaos to escape with Conor. That man… wasn't ordinary."
The man rise slowly from his chair.
"I see. You got beaten. In a way."
He stepped toward the kid.
"You don't belong in this gang."
The boy froze.
"No!! Sir, please!!!"
The man struck him sharply in the stomach.
The boy collapsed, gasping
"BOURGHH !!"
"Shut up. Describe exactly what this man looked like… now!"
"Okay… sir!… He was tall, imposing, broad-shouldered, a three-day beard, square jaw!"
The man shouted,
"Guys like that are everywhere!! How is that supposed to help me?!"
The trembling teen said,
"Wait, sir, please! I noticed something crucial… on his right forearm. A scar. Like an animal scratch. From a bear or tiger… And his name…his name it's Silas."
They're chief's eyes widened "Silas?! THE Silas ? It can't be, I haven't seen him for a White ! »