Kazunai moved through the long marbled halls of the Yazumèi estate like a shadow, hands stuffed into his jacket pockets, boots echoing softly against the glossy floor. Familiar territory. Familiar tension.
The goons flanking the corridors glanced at him briefly, nodding with stiff professionalism. Some of these men had been around since he was a kid. Others were new—hired muscle with quick reflexes and slower minds. None of them spoke.
Kaz passed by a cracked section of wall—a faint scorch mark from years ago.
Kazunai's fury. Kaz smiled faintly reminiscing on the fights he and his brothers use to have.
He remembered those days too well. His brothers—Jamie and Vali—always used to roughhouse him when he was little. Training, they called it. "Toughen up, Kazzy-boy. You're a Yazumèi, not a paper doll." Their version of affection involved dodging sucker punches, ambushes from behind doors, getting locked in cold rooms, and then being hugged ten seconds later while they laughed their heads off.
Before Jamie moved out to 'do his own thing'. Before Vali ran off to start his own "crew."
Back when things were stupid and loud and warm.
Now the halls were too quiet.
As he rounded the spiral stairwell, he caught the sound of upbeat music and the soft echo of a voice. His eyes flicked up.
Kimara.
His youngest sister stood at the entrance, phone pressed to her ear, flipping her hair with a groan.
"No, Mom, I am eating breakfast. Kaz made me," she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Yeah. I'll call you when I'm back. Love you too. Bye."
Kaz smirked. "Liar. I saw you throw the eggs out the window."
Kimara turned, lowering the phone. "Those were your eggs. They looked like regret on a plate."
"Fair." he replies
She gave him a look, then sighed and slung her bag over her shoulder. "You driving?"
"Yeah. Let's go." Kaz mumbled
The car ride was unusually quiet at first. Kaz glanced sideways. Kimara was watching the skyline, headphones off for once. The city moved past them like a restless beast—billboards, blinking rail lines, highrises glowing like digital temples.
"You think Dad's okay?" she asked suddenly.
Kaz blinked. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know. Just… ever since the other day, he's been quieter. Not softer. Just watching everything. Like he knows something we don't."
Kaz tightened his grip on the wheel. "He's always like that. He just used to pretend better."
She laughed. "That's probably true."
They sat with that thought for a minute.
"You ever think we're a family or just a bunch of strangers under the same roof?" she added softly.
He didn't answer right away. Then:
"Maybe both," he muttered. "But that's still family."
Kimara turned to him, her expression unreadable. "You know I used to hate you?"
"Wow. I was really feeling the love this morning."
"I did. You always were Dad's favorite. Even Jamie and Vali talked about it. You were the 'future.' The heir." She stared out the window. "Now? I think maybe he just saw something in you we didn't."
Kaz didn't know what to say to that. So he said nothing.
But as they neared the school gates, something in the rearview mirror caught his eye. A white SUV. Black-tinted windows. Had been behind them since they left the estate.
His gut clenched.
Kimara reached for the door handle. "Thanks for the ride."
Kaz grabbed her wrist gently. "Stay sharp today."
She tilted her head. "You okay?"
He forced a smile. "Yeah. Just… something in the air."
The feeling didn't leave. All day, through classes and laughter and even lunch with Shin, Kaz felt it—that low hum of static in his spine. Like the smell of ozone before a lightning strike. He didn't even taste his food. Didn't react when Amy brushed past him with that teasing smirk. His flame sat coiled beneath his skin like a snake ready to strike.
Even Shin noticed. "You look like you're about to throw up or set something on fire."
"Maybe both," Kaz muttered, eyes scanning every shadow, every corridor.
Nothing happened.
Until it did.
When he got home, it wasn't home.
The front gate was half torn from its hinges. Smoke billowed from the west wing. The sound of gunfire and screaming and cracking marble echoed through the estate grounds like war drums.
Kaz's heart stopped.
Kimara.
Dad.
He didn't wait.
Black flame erupted from his palms as he sprinted through the courtyard. Three men in White Tiger jackets turned toward him—eyes wide—before they were consumed by a pulse of infernal heat that melted their weapons and bodies in seconds.
"MOVE, DAMN YOU!" Kaz shouted as he leapt through a broken window.
Inside, the once-luxurious living room was a battlefield.
Sharks fought against waves of White Tiger goons—some with weapons, others with powers. Ice met flame. Bullets ricocheted off hardened skin. Kaz ducked as a plasma bolt sizzled past his head.
He saw one of Seamus's lieutenants—Denton—pinned under rubble, firing blind. Kaz yanked a nearby sofa into the air with a burst of kinetic flame and crushed the enemy attacker into the wall.
"Where's my sister?!" Kaz roared.
"West corridor!" Denton coughed. "They're pushing—gah!—pushing toward the vault!"
Kaz was gone before he finished the sentence.
Flames surged behind him as he vaulted over bodies, debris, and fire. Every step narrowed his focus. He passed two more Shark men—one slumped, bleeding, the other half-frozen.
At the corridor split, he skidded to a stop—just in time to see a White Tiger lieutenant swing a chain of white lightning toward Kimara.
"No you don't."
Kaz tackled the bastard mid-swing, black fire erupting in all directions. The man screamed as Kaz drove a fist through his chest, leaving only char and smoke.
Kimara was cornered behind a toppled cabinet, her hands clutching her arm—burned, but alive.
"Kaz!" she gasped.
"I'm here."
He stood, black flames spiraling up his shoulders. Four more Tigers turned toward him.
"I'm right here."
What followed wasn't a fight. It was a slaughter. Kaz didn't hold back. He didn't think. He unleashed.
Fire became spears. Chains. Shields. A tidal wave of darkness-infused inferno that incinerated everything in its path. The walls burned. The air screamed.
By the time the reinforcements arrived, Kaz stood panting in a ring of ash, Kimara behind him, safe.
And in the distance—through a shattered skylight—he saw a lone figure watching from a rooftop far above.
Alexandrov Grigorovich. Smiling Menacingly.