Chapter-7 Can you change
The police building was split clean down the middle.
On one side: uniforms, desks, ringing phones, the noise of law and order pretending to work.
On the other: concrete walls, dim lights, and rooms meant for one thing only—breaking people.
Mr. Rat sat in one of those rooms.
Hands cuffed behind his back. Ankles chained to the floor. A metal chair bolted down so hard it might as well have been part of the building itself.
And yet… he was smiling.
Across the table sat Don and Kite.
Between them lay three photographs.
One was Lady Moon—blurred, caught mid-motion.
One was Emma—young, terrified, her eyes frozen in fear.
The third was darker than the rest. A silhouette. Tall. Broad. The face impossible to make out.
The Boss.
Don leaned forward, fingers pressed against the table.
"Tell us how they're connected."
Mr. Rat shrugged lazily. "Connected to what?"
Kite didn't raise his voice. He never did.
"Emma. Lady Moon. You. Start talking."
Mr. Rat leaned back, the chains clinking softly. His grin widened—dirty, smug, untouchable.
"No idea," he said. "Just faces to me."
Don slapped the table.
"Where is the girl?"
Mr. Rat tilted his head. "If I knew, don't you think I'd already be rich?"
Inside his mind, panic screamed.
This is safer.
Jail is safer.
I failed… but I won't play golf.
If he stayed here long enough—if he caused enough trouble—he'd never have to face the Boss again.
He talked. And talked. And talked.
Too much.
Kite watched him carefully. Something was wrong. Gang members usually stayed quiet. Or broke fast.
Mr. Rat looked… comfortable.
Kite stood. "We're done here. He's stalling."
He turned to leave.
Don hesitated, then looked back at Mr. Rat.
"You're the worst kind of trash," Don said. "A kid might die because you won't help us."
Mr. Rat leaned forward.
The smile vanished.
"It wouldn't be the first," he said softly.
Silence fell.
Don stepped back. "Get him out of my sight."
The door opened.
A police officer entered—tall, broad, his cap pulled low so shadow hid his eyes.
He grabbed Mr. Rat by the arm.
Mr. Rat resisted immediately. "Hey! Hands off! You know who I—"
As they walked the halls, Mr. Rat ran his mouth nonstop.
Fight them. Insult them. Get extra time. Anything to stay.
They reached the evidence lockers.
Mr. Rat spun suddenly and threw a punch.
The officer caught it effortlessly.
His grip tightened like iron.
"You're a dead man walking," the officer said.
Mr. Rat blinked. Confused.
The officer removed his cap.
Franklin.
One of the Twelve Devils.
Mr. Rat collapsed to his knees.
"N-no—please—Mr. Franklin—I'm sorry—"
"If it were up to me," Franklin said calmly, "you'd already be dead."
He leaned closer.
"But the Boss said don't touch the rat."
Franklin straightened. "Finn shut down the cameras six hours ago. Smart kid."
Mr. Rat went silent.
Franklin dragged him out like property.
ZAce moved through the city like a ghost.
Rooftops. Alleyways. Streets. He searched everywhere—top to bottom, again and again.
His recorder clicked on.
"Day 678," Ace muttered. "Another missing girl. Emma. Same one from case 654."
His jaw tightened.
"She's a Level Eleven. Lightning mutation. One of less than ten in the world."
Five hours. No leads.
"But I have a plan," he said. "Dr. Morning-Star."
GAya slept peacefully now.
Bandages wrapped her arms and torso, soft monitors blinking quietly beside the bed. Her breathing was slow. Steady. Alive.
Dr. Morning-Star stood at her side, shoulders slumped with exhaustion. Dark circles framed her eyes, but she didn't move away. Not even for a second.
Mr. Morning-Star stood a few steps behind her.
Teachers gathered near the doorway, some placing hands on his shoulders. A silent show of support. He acknowledged none of it.
His face was cold.
Controlled.
Furious.
The doors opened.
Bruno stepped inside, still in his torn jacket, dried blood at the corner of his mouth. His usual confidence was gone.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "We should've saved her."
Mr. Morning-Star looked at him for a long moment. Not angry. Not disappointed.
Just heavy.
Two teachers gently guided Bruno out. He didn't resist.
Outside, the calm shattered.
Emma's grandparents pushed past the police tape, voices breaking, faces red from crying.
"She's a mutant?" her grandmother screamed. "Is that why she's being hunted?!"
Her grandfather clenched his fists. "Is that what you turned her into?!"
Mr. Morning-Star stepped forward.
He didn't raise his voice.
"Yes," he said.
The word hit them like a slap.
Fear poured out of them—loud, uncontrolled.
"Then she's in danger every day!" her grandmother shouted. "She keeps getting kidnapped! Attacked! Chased!"
Her grandfather pointed at the school. "This place—this life—you did this to her!"
Mr. Morning-Star didn't flinch.
"You're wrong," he said calmly. "What you're seeing isn't danger. It's fear. Other people's fear."
They shook their heads.
"Being a mutant is a curse," her grandmother cried. "Look what it's done to her!"
Mr. Morning-Star's eyes hardened—not in anger, but in conviction.
"No," he said. "Being a mutant is a gift."
They froze.
"She survived," he continued. "She's alive because of her power. Because of what she is—not despite it."
He stepped closer.
"We didn't turn Emma into something broken. We taught her how to live with what she already had."
Her grandfather's voice cracked. "And what if she dies because of it?"
Mr. Morning-Star answered without hesitation.
"Then she dies standing as herself. Not hiding. Not ashamed."
Silence fell.
"You're scared," he said gently. "And you have every right to be. But look at me."
They did.
"This anger," he continued, "this fear—you think Emma doesn't feel it? You think she doesn't see it in your eyes?"
Her grandmother started crying harder.
"She needed a place where she wouldn't hate herself," Mr. Morning-Star said. "Where she wouldn't think she was a mistake."
Dr. Morning-Star finally spoke.
"We protected her," Danny said softly. "We fed her. Taught her. Cared for her like our own."
The grandparents stood there, shaking. Torn.
"You should've told us," the grandfather said.
"Maybe," Mr. Morning-Star replied. "But we also knew how you'd look at her."
They couldn't deny it.
Not a word.
"You don't have to trust us," Mr. Morning-Star said. "But don't blame Emma for surviving."
The grandparents turned away.
"Bring her back," the grandmother whispered. "But after that… stay away from her."
They left.
Ace arrived moments later, hands in his pockets, trying to sound light.
"Rough day?"
Mr. Morning-Star exhaled slowly. "Every day is, when you're raising the future."
Ace removed his mask.
"Emma will choose her own path," Mr. Morning-Star continued. "We just guide her until she can walk it."
Ace turn to Mr Morning-Star. Saying he can't found Emma and it will be a problem and long to so it. So I want Dr morning-star to use her Telekinesis power. To found her and go in her mind. To tell me were and what thr area look like.
As Mr Morning-Star look on
"I can try," Danny said.
The room went still.
Mr. Morning-Star didn't answer right away. He looked at her—not as a scientist, not as a telekinetic—but as her husband.
"No," he said quietly.
Everyone froze.
"You know what that means," he continued. "Not one mind. Not ten. A whole city."
Danny swallowed. "I know."
"You'd have to open yourself completely," he said. "Hundreds of thousands of thoughts. Fear, violence, panic. You don't get to choose what comes in."
Ace stepped closer. "If this goes wrong—"
"She won't just pass out," Mr. Morning-Star cut in. "She could lose herself. Or worse."
Danny closed her eyes.
"Emma is alone," she said. "And scared."
Silence.
Mr. Morning-Star exhaled slowly, like a man making peace with something he hated.
"If you do this," he said, "it will put you down for days. Maybe longer."
"I know."
"And never again," he added. "Not like this. Not for anyone."
Danny nodded. "Never again."
Ace spoke then, his voice steady but urgent.
"I don't have time to wait for police work," he said. "Lady Moon is involved. That means a buyer. That means a deadline."
He looked between them.
"If you find her, I go now. Alone. I don't drag the city into this."
Mr. Morning-Star studied him.
"You bring her back alive," he said. "Both of them."
Ace nodded once. "I will."
Danny reached for Mr. Morning-Star's hand.
"Stay with me," she whispered.
He laced his fingers through hers. "Always."
She inhaled.
Then she opened herself.
Her body stiffened violently.
She screamed.
Not in pain—but overload.
The city hit her all at once.
Thousands of minds. Layered. Screaming. Whispering. Laughing. Crying.
Hatred. Hunger. Guilt. Love. Violence. Desire.
Too much.
Her knees buckled.
Mr. Morning-Star tightened his grip.
"Focus," he said firmly. "One voice. One heartbeat."
She gasped, tears streaming down her face.
"I—I can't—"
"Yes, you can," he said. "She's waiting."
Then—
Emma.
Cold.
Dark.
Fear wrapped tight around her chest.
A factory.
Concrete. Rust. Flickering lights.
Danny's breath hitched.
"I see her," she whispered.
Her legs gave out.
She collapsed, clutching her head, consciousness slipping away.
Ace caught her before she hit the floor.
"She's done," Mr. Morning-Star said sharply. "Get out of this city."
Ace pulled his mask back on.
"I'll bring her home," he said.
And vanished.
Mr. Morning-Star held Danny as her breathing slowed.
"Never again," he whispered.
But for Emma—
It had been worth it.
Roman snapped his mask into place.
"Thanks," he said quietly.
Bruno stepped forward, jaw tight. "Roman—wait. I can come with."
Ace paused.
"You can," he said. "But give me a few minutes first."
He turned his head slightly, listening to something only he could feel.
"Lady Moon isn't lying about everything," Ace continued. "But she's lying about who she really is. Something's off."
Bruno frowned. "You sure?"
Ace nodded. "Cover my back. I've got a bad feeling."
He hesitated, then added, "Someone's already moving to pick up the girl."
Ace vanished again — headed straight for the factory.
Bruno stayed behind, fists clenched.
If he'd been faster…
If he'd been better…
Emma wouldn't be missing.
Deep underground, far from the city lights, Franklin arrived at the mafia base.
He dragged Mr. Rat forward by the collar of his jacket.
The hallway was long and dim, lit by low amber lights. Men lined the walls — silent, watching.
Some spat at Mr. Rat's shoes as he passed.
Others murmured apologies.
Not for what had happened.
For what was about to.
Mr. Rat trembled, barely lifting his feet.
Franklin didn't slow.
Slicked-back hair. Sharp chin. Cold green eyes. A flawless baby-blue suit that didn't belong in a place like this — except here, it did.
This was his home.
They stopped at a massive door.
Franklin knocked.
A deep, powerful voice answered from within.
"Open."
They stepped inside.
Franklin released Mr. Rat and straightened.
"Boss," he said calmly. "Mission completed."
The man remained seated in the shadows.
"Thank you, Franklin," the voice said smoothly. "Stay. I may have another mission for you."
A pause.
"You don't have to accept it."
Franklin didn't hesitate. "Anything, sir. I'll do it."
A low chuckle echoed through the room.
"That's why I like you," the boss said. "You never disappoint me. Not like others."
Mr. Rat's breath hitched. His voice cracked as he dropped to his knees.
"I'm sorry," he sobbed. "Please—please—"
The boss stood, still hidden by darkness.
He checked his watch.
"Actually, Franklin," he said casually, "you need to leave now."
Franklin looked up.
"There's a girl," the boss continued. "Emma. Go collect her. It's almost time."
He paused.
"You can decline. I'll send someone else."
Franklin smiled.
"No, sir," he said. "I've got it."
He turned and left without another word.
Mr. Rat collapsed fully to the floor, shaking.
"I'm sorry," he cried again.
Silence.
Then the boss spoke, calm and cheerful.
"Go get me a golf club."
A beat.
"Let's play golf."
Mr. Rat froze.
The lights didn't change.
The shadows didn't move.
But the room had never felt more dangerous
Factory – Night
The factory was quiet in a way that hurt the ears.
Broken windows let moonlight spill across rusted machines. The night air was freezing, breath turning to mist. Somewhere in the distance, metal creaked as the building slowly settled.
Emma sat on an overturned crate, knees pulled close, rubbing her arms for warmth.
Lady Moon leaned against a pillar, arms crossed, watching her.
"So," Lady Moon said casually, "why you?"
Emma blinked. "What?"
"Out of everyone," Lady Moon continued. "Why did they take you?"
Emma hesitated, then shrugged. "I was normal. Just… a normal girl."
Lady Moon frowned.
"Before," Emma added quietly. "Before they took me. Before the experiments."
The word lingered.
"They changed me," Emma said. "Science. Machines. Needles. I didn't wake up like this. I was made."
Lady Moon looked away.
"I was born like this," she said after a moment. "My mom was a mutant. Guess the genes stuck."
Emma studied her. "Then why don't you go to Mr. Morning-Star's school?"
Lady Moon laughed — sharp, bitter.
"I can't."
"Why not?"
She met Emma's eyes.
"I've always been bad," Lady Moon said. "My whole life. I only know how to survive, how to steal, how to hurt. I'm too far gone, Emma."
Emma shook her head. "I don't believe that."
They talked — quietly at first. School stories. Celebrities fighting online. Who was dating who. Emma smiled when Ace's name came up.
"He's kind of amazing," Emma said.
Lady Moon smirked. "He thinks he is."
Emma tilted her head. "You kidnapped me. Doesn't that make you the villain?"
Lady Moon stiffened.
"Why aren't you scared?" she asked.
Emma answered without hesitation.
"Because mutants have to stick together. And you're not bad. You're doing this for a reason. Just tell me… so we can move forward."
Their eyes locked.
Lady Moon stood abruptly.
Moonlight condensed around her hand, forming a glowing gun.
She walked the factory's edge, scanning the shadows. Reached the light switch.
Click.
The lights flickered on.
She ripped the switch off the wall — sparks bursting — leaving the factory bathed in harsh white light.
Cold wind rushed in.
Then—
"Hey, sexy lady," a voice said. "Long time no see."
Ace stepped out of the shadows, flames faint around his hands.
Lady Moon smiled. "Sorry, handsome. Forgot to call."
"I see you got lonely," Ace said, glancing at Emma. "Made a friend. You know you could've just called me."
"It's lonely out there," Lady Moon replied. "I needed company. Someone useful."
Ace raised an eyebrow. "And I'm not?"
"You can be," she said. "But hurry up. I've got another date."
Ace sighed. "Already cheating on me. Story of my life."
He flicked his wrist.
Fire exploded toward her.
Lady Moon raised a moon-shield instantly — flame splashing harmlessly across it.
Ace closed the distance.
They clashed.
Punch. Block. Counter. Spin. Grab. Release.
Neither landed clean.
They moved like mirrors — fire and moonlight flashing beneath the stars. Ace fired blasts mid-air; Lady Moon dodged, firing moon shots back. Ace threw a card — slicing straight through a rusted beam, splitting it in half.
Close range again.
Fists. Elbows. Knees.
Then Lady Moon formed glowing knuckles and smashed Ace's hands.
He winced.
She took the opening.
Straight punch.
Two jabs.
A brutal gut shot.
Uppercut.
Overhead smash.
Ace hit the ground hard.
Lady Moon slammed her feet down onto his chest, cracking concrete.
She yanked him up and sent him flying with a moon-powered punch.
"Sorry, hot stuff," she said. "You're in my way."
Something clicked in her palm.
She opened her hand.
A card.
Ace's symbol.
Flash.
White light.
Blind.
Ace unleashed a wild fire wave, blasting her back. She staggered — and Ace was already there.
Flying knee to the nose.
Fire fists — two crushing body blows.
Fire out.
Knee to the chin.
Roundhouse kick.
She grabbed his wrist, yanked him in, and headbutted him off his feet.
"Sorry, babe."
She swept his legs. He fell.
She kicked — Ace caught it, threw her.
Lady Moon flipped mid-air, landed clean.
Ace stepped forward, breathing hard.
"Lady Moon," he said. "I can help you. You don't have to do this. You don't need to be a criminal."
He held his hands out.
"We can save Emma. Together. You could be great. I'll make sure you're safe. Count on me."
She hesitated.
Thoughts raced.
The 80,000.
Mitch.
Survival.
She stepped forward… took his hand.
Then—
Knee.
Ace gasped.
She followed with a spinning roundhouse, wrapped her legs around his head, and slammed him into the ground.
She stood, turning away.
Ace groaned — and forced himself up.
Blood dripped down his mask.
"I won't stop," he said. "Not for you. Not for her."
He took one step.
A beam of raw energy slammed into his back.
Ace flew across the factory, crashing into a wall as it collapsed on him.
Silence.
Lady Moon turned.
Franklin stood there, energy fading from his hand.
Slick hair. Calm eyes. Baby-blue suit untouched.
"I took out Ace for you," he said casually.
He looked at her.
"Now… where's the girl?"
REmma stayed close to Lady Moon's side.
Too close.
Her small hands clutched at Lady Moon's coat, fingers trembling as she tried to make herself invisible. Every time Franklin took a step forward, Emma shrank back, pressing herself behind Lady Moon's leg, her breathing uneven and panicked.
Franklin noticed.
His jaw tightened.
"She's sloppy," he muttered, eyes flicking to Lady Moon. "You didn't even restrain her. Didn't knock her out. You really are losing your edge."
"There was no need," Lady Moon replied, though her voice lacked its usual confidence. "She's just a girl."
Franklin laughed — sharp, impatient.
"A powerful mutant girl," he snapped. "A weapon. And you're standing between her and my future."
Emma's voice cracked.
"Please… please don't let him take me."
Lady Moon froze.
For a split second, she wasn't here anymore.
She saw herself — younger, smaller, trapped in the wrong place at the wrong time. Powerless. Unprotected. Forgotten.
Then another image hit her even harder.
Mitch.
What if Mitch had been standing there instead?
What if it were her son shaking like this, begging someone—anyone—to help him?
Her chest tightened.
Franklin clicked his tongue, irritation boiling over.
"This is taking too long."
Before Lady Moon could react, Franklin grabbed Emma by the wrist and struck her — fast, precise, just hard enough.
Emma crumpled instantly, her body going limp.
"Great," Franklin said coldly. "She can stop crying now."
Something inside Lady Moon snapped.
Her body moved before her mind could catch up.
She yanked Emma into her arms and leapt backward in a single motion, landing several meters away. She turned, placing herself fully between Franklin and the unconscious girl.
Her heart was pounding.
Her breath was heavy.
Her hands were shaking — not from fear, but from rage.
Franklin stared at her, eyes narrowing.
"Careful," he warned. "If you interfere, the mafia will come after you. No money. No protection. You'll be hunted."
Lady Moon glanced down at Emma.
Eighty thousand rand.
That was the easy option.
Take the money. Walk away. Forget this ever happened.
But she couldn't.
She wouldn't.
"I won't stand beside someone who hits a child," she said quietly.
Franklin sighed, energy crackling around his hands.
"So be it."
He attacked first.
Energy blasts ripped through the air as Lady Moon rolled, barely avoiding them. She fired back, her shots precise but strained. Franklin was fresh. Focused. Hungry.
He was winning.
Each exchange pushed her further back, her movements slowing, exhaustion catching up with her. She was already injured. Already drained.
Franklin drove her into the ground with a powerful blast, stepping forward as his energy flared brighter.
"End of the line," he said.
Fire exploded between them.
Franklin was thrown back as Ace crashed into the fight, cards burning in his hands, flames spiraling outward.
Lady Moon barely had time to process it before Ace was standing between her and Franklin.
"You're not touching her," Ace said.
Franklin hesitated — just for a moment.
Ace was injured.
Breathing heavy.
Still dangerous.
They clashed.
Fire against energy.
Cards slicing through the air.
Blasts tearing chunks from the surroundings.
Franklin was nervous — but desperate.
He wanted Emma.
He wanted Ace unmasked.
He wanted to drag him to the Boss and earn his place as the right-hand man.
Power. Respect. Control.
He fired wildly, forcing Ace and Lady Moon to take turns shielding Emma, pulling her out of danger again and again. Every time they did, Franklin gained an opening.
Lady Moon took one too many hits.
Her body finally gave out.
She collapsed hard, vision blurring, ears ringing.
Ace remained.
Alone.
Still injured.
Still standing.
Still losing.
Franklin gathered energy for the final blow—
—and the air crushed inward.
Franklin slammed into the ground, unable to move.
Gravity pinned him.
Bruno stepped forward.
"You took your time," Ace muttered.
Bruno cracked his knuckles. "Sorry, amigo."
He looked down at Franklin, eyes cold.
"You hurt a kid from my school," he said. "Now I hurt you."
The fight ended fast.
Franklin never stood a chance.
HThe Boss' Office
The office was silent except for the soft tap of a golf ball rolling across polished marble.
Mr. Rat stood frozen at the far end of the room.
Not chained.
Not restrained.
That made it worse.
His hands shook as he held a golf club that felt heavier with every breath he took. Sweat soaked through his shirt. His mouth opened, closed, opened again—no sound came out at first.
The Boss stood calmly near the opposite wall, adjusting his cufflinks.
"You went behind my word," the Boss said mildly, lining up a shot.
"And worse—behind my thinking."
Tap.
The ball rolled perfectly into a small golden cup embedded in the floor.
Mr. Rat swallowed hard.
"I—I only meant—Boss, I was just saying—"
"You spoke badly about my ideas," the Boss continued, cutting him off without raising his voice.
"In front of my own men."
He turned now.
Slow.
Controlled.
"You disrespected me in my house."
Mr. Rat dropped to his knees instantly.
"I was wrong! I swear I was wrong! I only wanted to prove myself—I wanted to help the family!"
The Boss tilted his head, studying him the way a teacher studies a failed student.
"What did I do," he asked calmly, "as a good boss?"
Mr. Rat nodded rapidly. "You—you gave me a chance. A great chance."
"I gave you grace," the Boss said.
"Bring me Emma, earn eighty thousand. Fail…"
He gestured toward the club.
"…we play golf."
Mr. Rat's breathing broke into short, panicked gasps.
"But you failed," the Boss continued.
"And you failed loudly."
He began to walk, slow steps echoing through the room.
"You couldn't do it yourself. So you dragged other gangs into it. You dragged my men into it."
His eyes hardened.
"Men who are now in prison because you were weak."
Mr. Rat shook violently. "I didn't mean to—I just needed help—I—"
"You were never meant to succeed," the Boss said flatly.
Mr. Rat froze.
"I didn't send my gang," the Boss continued, voice calm but sharp.
"Because I protect my own."
He stopped directly in front of Mr. Rat.
"The school is full of mutants. Mr. Morning-Star. His staff. Bruno. Ace."
A pause.
"And you?"
A faint smile.
"You are just a man."
Mr. Rat's eyes filled with tears.
"That's why I sent Lady Moon. She's strong. She's capable. And if she failed…"
He shrugged.
"I wouldn't care."
Mr. Rat sobbed openly now.
"But you didn't just fail," the Boss said quietly.
"You questioned me. You embarrassed me. And you cost me people."
He placed a hand on Mr. Rat's shoulder.
The panic turned into terror.
"Please—Boss—I'll fix it—I'll do anything—I—"
The transformation began instantly.
Mr. Rat's body hardened mid-breath.
Skin turned to crystal.
Fear frozen across his face forever.
The Boss lifted his golf club.
It crystallized in his hand.
Before Mr. Rat's eyes could fully change—
The Boss leaned in and whispered:
"Your family will be fine. I'll take care of them."
Then he swung.
The diamond body shattered cleanly.
Again.
And again.
No blood.
Only glittering fragments scattering across the marble like broken stars.
When it was done, the Boss straightened his suit.
"Clean this," he said calmly as staff rushed in.
"Sell it. That alone is worth billions."
He paused.
"And make sure his family gets their share."
A phone buzzed.
He answered.
Franklin. Arrested.
Ace and Bruno responsible.
Lady Moon… possibly involved.
The Boss stepped forward, fully into the light.
Tall—over six foot five.
Broad shoulders.
Perfect posture.
Dark hair, clean face, model-sharp features.
A king without a crown.
He smiled faintly.
"So," he murmured.
"Ace."Aftermath
Police lights flooded the ruined factory.
Franklin was dragged away in cuffs, furious but defeated.
Bruno carried Emma in his arms, shielding her from the chaos. His jaw was tight. His eyes full of guilt.
"I've got you," he whispered. "You're safe now."
Emma clutched his shirt, trembling.
Lady Moon was gone.
The Rooftop
Cold wind swept across the city skyline.
Lady Moon sat against a concrete wall, exhausted, bruised, empty.
Ace stood over her for a moment—then sat down across from her.
Close.
Quiet.
He looked into her eyes.
Not as a hero.
Not as an enemy.
Just as someone who understood.
The city breathed beneath them.
And somewhere far away—
The Boss smiled.
End of Chapter 7