The wind in the mountains never truly stopped. It howled through the passes like something alive, dragging frost across exposed stone and rattling the pine trees clinging to the cliffs. Snow drifted sideways in thin sheets, biting at skin and settling into the seams of our clothing.

  We stood on a narrow plateau overlooking a valley swallowed in white.

  “Ewan, you perhaps have the most dangerous job of all.” Vellin said, cracking his knuckles.

  The sound was sharp in the cold air. He faced outward, toward the horizon where jagged peaks cut into a gray sky. His breath rose in visible plumes. Even here, even in isolation, tension coiled in his shoulders.

  I need to make him rest easy.

  I responded, “You know I’m up for it.”

  I sat on a flat stone near the edge of the cliff, my axe resting across my thighs. The blade was nicked from prior engagements, frost clinging along its edge. I drew the whetstone down slowly, the grinding sound rough and steady against the quiet of the mountains.

  “That’s not the issue.” he warned. “I was given near infinite authority as a Flame, but there was one thing I could never get information on. That would be what was called, ‘The Experiment,’ by the nobles.”

  The word seemed to vanish into the wind.

  He tightened his fist, snow crunching beneath his boots as he shifted his stance. “It was supposedly a series of experiments forced onto a man born with a Blessed Body. The nobles used all their coin to hire the best scientists, and it was a success. That’s all I know.”

  Blessed Body.

  Even I didn't have that. I do have her, however...

  I continued to pave the whetstone over my axe in smooth strokes. “I can beat a lab rat. If it’s braindead, even easier.”

  The metal edge caught the light faintly as I tilted it to inspect the grind.

  Vellin didn’t laugh.

  Instead, a tear slipped free from his eye. “Sun will use everything they have. This man, whoever he is, was above my authority. That means he is an existence that is above a Flame. He is their secret weapon.”

  Above a Flame.

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  I paused the sharpening for a moment, looking up at him through the thin curtain of snow. The wind tugged at his coat. He looked smaller up here—not weaker, just... burdened.

  The stone resumed its path along the blade. “My job is to end that weapon.”

  He turned to face me fully now, the wind whipping his hair back. “Are you willing to kill someone who did nothing wrong? Who was abused? Who is forced to fight us?”

  The question lingered between us, heavy as the clouds above.

  I was never going to stop for something so minor.

  I answered, continuing to sharpen my axe, “I never thought my path would be easy.”

  The day had come, yet I couldn’t sense that thing’s presence anywhere. It could surface before any of us, so Vellin ordered a full retreat unless he, Borschmack, or I personally arrived to reinforce. My axe rested against my belt... one of the last remnants of the Grillir. Kaiguya and I were the same; our people were eradicated. He might have the other tribes under, but they aren’t his blood. Kaiguya, Odina, and I are birds of a feather—survivors pretending at belonging. I was never a fool either. I knew Vellin was maneuvering me toward his cause. Age grants clarity, if nothing else.

  Grand architecture loomed ahead before I even registered where I’d walked. Marble facades, sculpted columns, ironwork gates—this was where the nobles nested. Only then did it click. Vellin had sent me to their district. It explained the five officers stationed at the gate. The Experiment was rumored to be a plaything of the rich. If so, this gilded cage would be its kennel.

  From a cross street, a young boy and his father stepped into view. They recognized me instantly. The boy drew a red whistle and blew. No shrill note followed.

  Instead, several feet to his right, the concrete ruptured. A fist punched through the street, then an arm, veins grotesquely engorged—far beyond even a Transcended’s strain. It clawed its way out without technique or balance, all brute excavation, until the rest emerged.

  Eight feet tall, musculature warped past reason, shirtless, nearly bald, scarred, clothed only in old purple pants. Its density of strength was alien. For something to seem unmeasurable, it had to have at least twice my strength.

  But he was definitely slow.

  The creature lowered one massive hand and gently clasped the boy’s. He was regulating his force—consciously. The father’s lip curled. “You walked into the wrong part of town, Ewan Grillis.”

  He dared use my name.

  “You thought us nobles defenseless? We make Grand Sasebella run.”

  One by one, lights flared in the surrounding buildings. Faces filled the windows—contemptuous, expectant. An audience.

  The father tapped his son’s shoulder. “Go on, son. While the Flames finish off the other fools, let It stretch its legs.”

  It. They stripped him of even that.

  He’s still human, you parasites. Your ideology would have butchered my people, even if they scaped.

  My wife’s last words echoed in the hollow of my skull—that she loved me, that I had tried my best. She was gentle, even in a world that rewarded cruelty.

  The boy extended a finger. “Kill.”

  I drew in breath, muscles coiling. “You live in obscene luxury...” I said, voice low, “despite the rot in your souls...”

  The creature stepped over the boy and father in a single bound, landing before me hard enough to fracture anything. No stance. No guard. Just violence. A wild haymaker tore through the air.

  It was a clean miss.

  If it hit, I would’ve nearly died.

  The Experiment recovered himself, and took a formal stance, charging another punch.

  I wrenched my axe free. For that micro instant of infinite anger, I was taller.

  “It’s truly goddamn disgusting.”