Kane
"So, Candy Cane, you wanna fight?" I said with a smirk, knowing full well I was bluffing. The kid—Fenix—didn't know that, though.
"My name is Fenix, not Candy Cane," he shot back, his tone dripping with disgust.
I raised an eyebrow, grinning wider. "Why? You've got the white and red hair, you're like a walking candy cane."
His eyes narrowed, hardening, like he was about to jump straight into a fight. His posture shifted, shoulders squared, fists clenched at his sides, ready for whatever I threw his way. But I wasn't looking for a fight—not really. I had my own reasons for being here, but I couldn't resist pushing his buttons. It wasn't often I got to toy with someone like this—someone with a chip on their shoulder and the aura of someone who had seen way more than they were letting on. Still, there was something about him—something more than just the awkward white-and-red hair. A darkness lingered beneath that surface, a tension I couldn't ignore.
Fenix shifted his stance, his eyes locked on mine, calculating. "I want to ask you something," he said, voice steady now, the hostility subsiding just a bit. "What are your powers?"
I shrugged, feigning indifference. "Illusions," I said with a grin, stretching the words out like I was telling a joke. "Or maybe I'm just really good at lying."
Fenix studied me for a long moment, his gaze intense, like he was peeling back the layers of my soul. I thought for a second he might challenge me on it, but he simply nodded, as if he had already figured me out.
"I see," he muttered, a slight frown tugging at the corners of his lips. "I've been looking for you, Kane."
I raised an eyebrow, surprised. "You've been looking for me? For what?"
His eyes narrowed again, this time with something that almost seemed like pity. Or maybe it was something darker. "You're a missing piece to my puzzle."
Before I could even respond to that cryptic line, the sound of tires screeching filled the air, followed by a voice that made the blood in my veins freeze. "Ayy! Sheriff Hasnowits!"
I turned toward the voice, and sure enough, the sheriff's cruiser was pulling up, lights flashing as it came to a stop. Great. Just what I needed.
The sheriff climbed out, adjusting his hat as he surveyed the scene. His eyes narrowed as he took in the wreckage—the destroyed bar, the chaos of the freeway, and now the mess that Fenix and I had stirred up.
"It's Donovitz, Kane," the sheriff said, clearly exasperated.
I glanced at him, then back at Fenix, who was still watching me, his expression unreadable. "Uh… right."
"Well, looks like you made a mess again, Kane," the sheriff grumbled, throwing his hands up in frustration. "Had to clean up the bar, the freeway, and now this? You better hope you're insured. It's gonna cost you."
"I am," I said flatly, my patience wearing thin. I tried to suppress the irritation that crept into my voice. "And who's this kid?" The sheriff gestured at Fenix, who had remained silent through the whole exchange.
"Nobody important," I muttered, not wanting to deal with him right now. I glanced at Fenix. "I'll be taking my leave now."
The sheriff didn't seem convinced. His eyes flicked between me and Fenix, but he reluctantly nodded. "Alright. Let's go, Candy Cane."
Fenix's eyes flared at the nickname, but he didn't argue. He just nodded and followed me, his footsteps barely making a sound on the cracked pavement.
"Unless you wanna fight," he said, his voice hardening once more, "I think we have much to talk about, Kane. For now, I'll go with you. But don't think I've forgotten."
I met his eyes, feeling the weight of his words more than I let on. But I didn't say anything in return. What could I say? Everything was moving too fast, and I still didn't have all the pieces to this puzzle.
The sheriff turned away, waving a hand dismissively. "Fine, but if you screw up again, don't expect me to bail you out."
"Don't worry, Sheriff," I muttered, already heading to the car. "I've got it covered."
The Boss
"Wow, just wow," the voice echoed in the dark room, the amusement lacing every word like it was a bad joke. The man—if you could even call him that—leaned back in his chair, watching the footage of my fight with Galick on the large screen, replaying it over and over like a child watching a magic trick for the first time.
"The drug really works, huh?" he chuckled to himself, a dark humor twisting his voice. "But this is also so fucking unfortunate."
He stepped back from the screen, rubbing his gloved hands together as he shifted his weight. His voice dropped lower, almost unhinged, filled with an edge of fury. "To think Tsunami Tech knew about this and hired him to steal my prize," he muttered, his voice dripping with venom. He paused for a moment, lowering his head and hiding behind a grotesque, oversized mask with a permanent, sinister grin. It only made him more unsettling.
He threw his head back, letting out a dark, mirthless laugh that echoed off the walls, rattling the air. "AHAHAHAHA! I thought he was dead. I thought he was dead, but now... seems he goes by the name Kane."
Sax stood off to the side, watching quietly. His face was a mask of neutrality, as always, but I could see a flicker of something in his eyes. Curiosity. Or maybe concern. It was hard to tell with him.
"The Bishop's waiting for you downstairs," Sax said, his voice cold and efficient, cutting through the silence.
The Boss nodded slowly, his amusement fading into something colder, more calculated. "Let's go see him."
Kane
I could feel the weight of everything pressing down on me—the tension between Fenix and me, the sharp edges of my past digging into my chest like claws, and the nagging realization that I was standing on the edge of something far bigger than I ever imagined. I couldn't let myself sink into the chaos—not yet. There was too much still left to figure out, too many unanswered questions clouding my thoughts.
Fenix and I sat in silence as the train rumbled beneath us, the city blurring outside the windows like a slow-moving smear of color. The hum of the tracks was the only thing filling the space between us, drowning out all the noise in my head. It was the kind of silence that made everything feel heavier. It felt like the calm before the storm, like something monumental was about to happen, but neither of us was ready for it.
He stared out the window, his eyes distant, like he was miles away from here. I couldn't blame him. My own mind was racing in a thousand directions, trying to make sense of the wreckage that had become my life, trying to piece together the broken fragments of a future that seemed more elusive with each passing second.
After what felt like an eternity, Fenix turned to me, breaking the silence. His voice was low, almost thoughtful, like he was pondering something deeper than just the words he was speaking.
"You know," he said, his eyes meeting mine, "I don't think you even know what you're getting yourself into."
I glanced at him, the weight of his words settling on me like a lead anchor. "I never do," I replied, a bitter edge creeping into my voice, though I didn't mean to let it show. It was just... the truth.
Fenix's lips twitched in what could have been a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Fair enough."
And with that, the silence took over again. The train clattered along the tracks, carrying us further into the unknown, deeper into the cold, dark streets of the city that waited ahead, like a monster lying in wait.
The Boss
I was still reeling from the loss of my precious "prize." The sting of it gnawed at me from the inside out. It was like a festering wound that refused to heal, a constant reminder that not everything goes as planned. But that was the thing with people like me—we don't accept defeat. We don't allow it. We twist the world to our will. And when you're desperate—when everything depends on a single, perfect outcome—that's when the real danger begins.
I adjusted my mask, my fingers moving with practiced precision, the cold metal surface pressing against my skin. The mask was the face I showed the world. But beneath it, beneath the façade, there was something darker. Something much more dangerous.
The door creaked open, and Sax stepped into the room. I didn't need to look up to know he was there. His presence was like an iron wall, silent but imposing. His footsteps echoed in the silence, like the ticking of a clock counting down to something inevitable.
"The Bishop's waiting for you downstairs," Sax said again, his voice breaking the tension like a blade through cloth.
I allowed myself a smile. It wasn't a warm smile. Not the kind I wore in front of people, crafted to deceive. No, this one was colder—darker—more like a warning. "Good," I said, my voice dripping with venom. "It's time to take back what's mine."
The pieces were falling into place now. Every move, every plan, every subtle manipulation—it had all led to this moment. And for the first time in what felt like forever, the path ahead wasn't clear. But there was one thing I was certain of: this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.