Chapter Text
Polly moved forward slowly, each of her steps echoing on the soiled floor. The weight of exhaustion crushed her shoulders. Her body screamed to stop, but her mind refused to give in. Her eyes never left Hero, frozen before her like a shattered statue, his face marked with dried tears and red stains.
He held his knife, the blade trembling, but it was not fear that made his hand shake. It was a sick determination, a devouring fire burning behind his pupils.
“Her—Henry…” she whispered. “Please. Stop this. You don’t have to…”
He laughed, a harsh sound, joyless, devoid of light. His shoulders slumped for an instant, then he straightened as if moved by some invisible force.
“Have to?” His voice was a cutting whisper. “You’re the one who doesn’t understand. You always wanted to meddle in what doesn’t concern you. You think you’re the savior? You’re just a spectator pretending to have a part in a story that is not yours.”
A cold shiver ran down Polly’s spine. She knew there was no going back. He was too far gone.
She lowered her eyes for a moment. Her hand tightened around the object she had picked up earlier from the floor, almost by reflex. The cold metal of the medal seemed to burn her palm. A simple medal, a forgotten keepsake from a bygone time. She raised her gaze again and met his eyes.
Hero growled and took a step forward. His knife lowered slightly, ready to strike.
“Please, Polly...Die.”
But Polly didn’t move. She lifted the medal, like a protective talisman against the knife. She drew a breath and, almost unconsciously, wrapped it around her hand, ready to fight with this symbol of victory.
And in that brief instant, their eyes locked one last time before the duel began. A confrontation that neither of them had ever wanted, but that had become inevitable.
The medal wrapped around Polly’s hand was an object Hero knew well. It was the very one he had won at his middle school Math Bee. Everyone had come to see him that day. Mari’s encouragements, Kel’s and Sunny’s impressed faces, Aubrey’s and Basil’s compliments, the pride on his parents’ faces… Memories of that day he thought he had forgotten overwhelmed him. Life had seemed so easy just a few years ago.
That habit of hers, meddling in other people’s business, trying to help without knowing anything about the situation, pretending to be a protector when she had no idea what he and his friends had lived through. That’s what he hated most about her.
And now here she was, striking him with terrifying blows from that medal, sullying one of the many memories of a time he could never get back.
But she could hit him as much as she wanted. He would never change his mind. For the first time in his life, he had his fate in his own hands. And he would fight until he lost his arms to keep control.
He gripped the knife tighter, filling the blade with all his determination. With a wide, fluid, violent sweep, he slashed the blade in front of him.
Polly didn’t have time to dodge.
A scarlet gush burst out, blinding them both.
A few seconds later came the sound of a body hitting the couch. Then the cries of a young woman.
Flat on her back, the nurse clutched the right side of her face. Her chest rose and fell frantically, as if it were about to explode at any moment.
She covered her face. She prayed. But no matter how hard she tried to stop the bleeding, the blood poured out in waves.
The red, burning liquid streamed down her hands, covered her clothes, clung to her skin, and painted the floor.
“Oh no-no-no, it’s not stopping! Shit—shit—shit-shit…”
Polly was frozen. She spat out every curse she knew, using words she never thought she’d say in her life.
Would the blood keep flowing? Where had he hit her? Was it all in her head or did her vision just-
Hero approached. She could slightly see his face tighten at the sight of her wound. Whatever it was, it couldn’t be pretty.
“Sorry about that. I was aiming for your throat. But hey, maybe it’s for the best. Eye for an eye, right?”
An eye? Had she just lost an eye?
An intense nausea rose inside Polly as an image of her mutilated face filled her mind. She would have vomited the little food she’d eaten recently, if not for every sense in her body screaming that Hero was getting closer.
She pushed against the ground with both hands and kicked both legs violently at his chest, aiming carefully at the spot where she’d shot him a few days ago.
The kick landed. He groaned in pain but didn’t flinch. He grabbed both her legs and dragged her toward him.
She clung to the couch with all her strength, leaving her body suspended in the air between the man and the furniture. She stayed there for a few seconds until a tug on her legs from Hero slid her bandage against the fabric of the couch. She fell headfirst to the floor with a loud thump and felt the wood scrape against her face as Hero dragged her closer.
She barely had time to turn over before Hero was on top of her, the blade of his knife ready to impale her throat, revealing behind it the empty expression of the young man whose face was covered in blood and tears.
How she hated that face. When she first saw the boy who wore it, bringing home a soaked Basil, she quickly realized the compliments Kel gave his brother weren’t lies.
Polly would be lying if she said that, beyond the shame of not being there to help Basil, the boy’s presence in the room hadn’t made her a little nervous.
A handsome face, masculine and well-groomed. A body both slender and athletic. A way of speaking filled with as much kindness as maturity. And a future doctor. How could anyone not fall for someone like that?
But seeing this man holding in his arms the boy she was supposed to protect, after saving him from a danger she hadn’t even realized existed… Seeing how all the young people around him looked up to him… A deep old wound reopened in her heart. A persistent wound, the very reason she’d decided to care for others.
She had never had anyone by her side.
She was average in absolutely everything.
She had no real passion beyond her work. Her tastes were bland, whether in food, movies, or even clothes. She had never done anything important with her life.
No one ever looked up to her. No one ever expected anything of her.
That’s why it enraged her so much to see someone as remarkable as him throwing his life away.
He had everything she had ever wanted. He was kind, intelligent, talented, caring, hardworking… Why throw away all the efforts he had made so far? Was she supposed to let him ruin his life and the lives of all these kids without doing anything?
Hero shifted higher on Polly’s body until he was sitting on her stomach, pinning her to the floor with all his weight. He raised the knife above his head and, the moment he felt a tear leave his eye, he brought it down beneath him.
Once again, the steel cut flesh.
Once again, a gush of blood splattered Polly’s face.
But this time, it was Hero who was incredulous.
Because beneath him, Polly was still breathing.
The knife had gone entirely through her hand when she had put it up to protect herself. A trickle of blood ran down the blade to paint her face.
Hero tried to pull out the blade. It wouldn’t budge. Polly tightened the muscles of her hand to lock the blade inside.
She gave him a smile that held as much pain as joy. And with a fluid motion of her free hand, she struck his jaw with the medal she held.
Letting go of the weapon while it was still in Polly’s hand would have been a terrible idea. So Hero took the blow without moving, simply pushing the knife deeper until it reached Polly’s vulnerable neck.
Polly was exhausted. Her body had always been weak and unathletic. She had already gone beyond her physical limits days ago. No matter how hard she pushed the blade with all her strength, squeezing even more blood from her hand, the disadvantage was too great.
But she wouldn’t give up. She would never give up until everyone in this town was saved.
Using the last of her energy, Polly put all the rage, pain, and hope she had into the palm of her pierced hand, driving the handle of the knife into Hero’s nose at full force. He lost his balance with a cry of pain.
“NOW!” shouted a female voice Polly hadn’t expected to hear again so soon.
From the shadows, Daphne threw herself at Hero, still dazed from the blow, pulling him off the one-eyed nurse. The moment they hit the ground, the baker grabbed Hero by the hair and smashed his face against the edge of the coffee table.
Before Polly could process what had just happened, she felt herself being lifted off the ground at full speed and thrown over broad, strong shoulders, her head resting against the back of the man who had picked her up. She didn’t need to see the orange sports clothes to know who it was.
“K-Kel? What are you-?”
“Sorry, Polly, no time to explain. We have to move !”
Kel ran toward the front door, Polly slung over his shoulder like a precious burden. Her head rested against his back, her disheveled hair whipping at the air as he picked up speed, refusing to leave her behind. He leapt over his brother and Daphne, who were still locked in a vicious struggle on the floor, scratching and strangling each other.
She glimpsed the entryway. Kel was sprinting toward it at full speed, making her bounce painfully on his shoulder. But it was a tangible hope. He was going to reach it. He was going to make it. She could still hear the frantic beating of her heart, hammering in her chest like a war drum.
Then, a sound.
A sinister groan, the death cry of a structure about to give out. Polly lifted her eyes just in time to see the first beams give way, the ceiling splitting into a grim network of cracks.
“KEL STOP!”
And in an instant, the entire roof collapsed in front of them, completely blocking the house’s exit.
What was happening? Why was the house falling apart? Why had Kel and Daphne come back? Where were the police?
Through the cracks in the walls of the house, through the blood clouding her remaining eye, she could see the reason.
Even with her exhaustion and the loss of an eye, she could see it.
How could she miss it?
The Faraway town was on fire.
The police had pulled away from their smoking car, which looked ready to explode at any moment. Some were panicking around the house, desperately searching for a way to free those trapped inside. The rest had scattered across the town, trying to save residents from the burning homes.
It was then she realized what she and Hero had been too busy fighting to notice.
The house they were in had probably been burning for a while already.
She tightened her grip slightly on Kel’s shoulder as the realization hit her. He heard her, sighed, and answered calmly.
“Hold on tight, Polly. I’ll find a way to get us out of here.”
With that, he turned calmly, letting Polly’s face point toward what was left of the entrance.
“The flames started near my parents’ room. Daphne and I got in through the kitchen window. I’ll get you out through there.”
Kel drew a deep breath, trying to ignore the bitter bite of smoke filling his throat. The weight of Polly on his shoulder crushed his bones, but he clenched his teeth. Every step was a challenge. Every second, a countdown before the roof fell on their heads.
The walls of the house creaked and wept under the heat. The fire had begun to devour the furniture, the curtains, the memories hung on the walls. Kel saw only embers, charred silhouettes of a past he never thought he’d see go up in flames.
He pushed his way toward the kitchen, hope pounding in his temples. The window he and Daphne had entered through. it had to still be intact, an exit, a lifeline in this inferno.
But what he saw stopped him dead in his tracks.
The heart of the kitchen was a furnace. The flames had consumed everything: the counter was already collapsing on itself, the pots were warping, and sparks leapt from the remains of the ruined oven. The air vibrated, warped by the heat, making the world seem blurry, unreal.
Kel stepped back, gripped by a brutal wave of dizziness. He cursed under his breath, his breath short.
“The exit…”
His eyes scanned the room, desperate. No way out. Nothing but a wall of fire, as if the house itself refused to let them go.
Polly groaned weakly against his back, her voice almost smothered by fatigue.
“Kel…?”
“I’m here…” he murmured, his eyes burning. “I’ll find it. I promise.”
He spun around, panic rising in his mind. Behind them, the house groaned, a deep, dull noise signaling its impending collapse. The black smoke was beginning to seep into the living room.
A blast of heat erupted from the kitchen.
Everyone froze. Hero dropped the potted plant he had been using to strike Daphne’s face. The baker stopped trying to sink her fingers into his throat.
Their attention was drawn to the voice that came from the shadows of the kitchen.
A young voice, male, theatrical, filled with as much excitement as fear.
“Please, take your time. All the main characters are here, might as well enjoy the moment, right?”
Lit by the fire, the silhouette of a boy began to take shape in the darkness of the kitchen.
Walking through the flames of his own making, a boy blocked the group’s path. The sunglasses on his eyes made his expression unreadable. On his back, a large cape floated menacingly in the flames. At his belt, a katana glinted, threatening to slice through anything in its path.
“After all, now that you’ve weakened this man enough… the story can finally reach its climax.”
Kel was utterly stunned.
“…oh fuck, not him…”
“W-what ? Do-does anyone know who that is?” Polly asked, completely confused.
Daphne, for a few seconds, stayed silent, then rushed toward the boy with her arms wide open.
“M-Mikhael!”
At the sound of the name, the boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a pistol, pointing it at the girl.
Daphne only slowed, moving toward the person she seemed to recognize, a mix of relief and incomprehension on her face.
“Little brother, don’t you recognize me? I-its me ! Daphne ! I-I’m your big sister ! Bowen and I are always teasing you whenever we get some free time...you always get mad at us. I’m sure you remember our games… Don’t you, Mikh-”
The boy slammed the butt of the pistol against the doorframe with such violence that bits of wood fell from the ceiling. Daphne stopped dead in her tracks.
“Don’t associate me with that nobody! I am more than Mikhael ever dreamed of being, and I stand higher than the Maverick ever did…”
The boy shook his head, a lock of his bright red wig swinging through the air. He cast a glance at everyone present in the room.
Now that the story entered its climax, it was time for the main character to enter the stage.
“...The name is Maverick Reborn. Etch it deep in your brains, because you’re going to hear it a lot in the next decade."