Chapter 1: New Ground
A boy ran down the alleyway, breathing ragged, covered in dirt, blood, and scratches that hadn’t had time to heal. Dogs chased behind him while the St. Louis County police shouted for him to stop.
He didn’t.
W-what the FUCK…
His two loose locks slapped against his eyes as he ran home.
CJ blinked.
Now he was sitting in his car, parked outside his new apartment in his new city.
Chicago.
Not St. Louis.
He reminded himself of that as the engine cut off.
Just like that, it was quiet.
Well… not real quiet. This was Chicago, after all. But it was the kind of quiet where the noise stayed in the background instead of pressing down on you. Cars rolled by. A siren cried somewhere in the distance. Wind slipped between the buildings like it had somewhere to be.
CJ stayed in the driver’s seat a second longer than he needed to.
He was a young man in his early twenties with bronze skin and locks tied back into a ponytail, leaving two smaller ones hanging over his eyes. At first glance they almost looked normal…
Until you noticed the flame-colored pupils.
His phone rested against his ear.
“…Ma, I’m here.”
“You just got there?” Her voice came quick, already tight. “Boy, yo’ ass was supposed to call me when you hit the city.”
“I just said I’m here,” CJ muttered. “Ain’t even get out the car yet.”
His eyes drifted to the apartment building in front of him.
Brick.
Older.
Solid.
Not trying to impress nobody.
A green street sign leaned slightly at the corner.
S. Halsted St.
Beneath it sat a faded block marker.
73rd.
The paint had chipped away like nobody had cared enough to fix it.
One window flickered.
The fire escape running down the side sagged just enough to notice. Not broken…
Just tired.
The pavement beneath his car was split with thin cracks, dark oil stains settled into the concrete like they’d outlived the building itself.
Two parking spaces down, a car idled.
Music low.
Nobody inside.
CJ watched it for a second…
Then looked away.
His mom let out a sharp breath. “I don’t like this, CJ. I don’t. New city, you don’t know nobody, and you up there by yourself like you grown grown.”
A faint smirk tugged at his mouth.
“I am grown, Ma.”
“Mm. Grown don’t mean untouchable. It’s some fuck up people in the world, and not all of them are SIGs. Then you got the S.T.F., and God knows what they’ll do. Especially to unregistered SIGs.”
CJ let out a slow breath through his nose.
The Specialized Threat Force.
Government dogs built to keep SIGs in line…
Or put them down.
That thought lingered.
He pushed the door open and stepped outside. Cool air met his face—cleaner than back home, but heavier somehow.
Like the city was holding something in.
St. Louis never felt like that.
St. Louis stayed loud, even when it was quiet, like everybody had something to prove.
Chicago just…
Watched.
Like the air itself was judging how long you’d last.
“I’m straight,” CJ said, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. “Ain’t nobody out here worried ‘bout me like that. I ain’t in no gang out here. Don’t know nobody, and nobody know me.”
“You don’t know that, and Chicago already has a violent reputation,” she shot back. “That’s the problem.”
He shut the car door with his hip.
“I know enough,” he said. “Same rules, different block.”
“That ain’t how shit works, and you know it.”
CJ started toward the entrance.
“Aight,” he muttered. “Then I’ma learn.”
Silence settled between them.
Then, softer—
“You talked to her?”
His jaw tightened.
“…Yeah.”
“And?”
He pulled the front door open and stepped inside. The hallway smelled like old carpet, cleaning spray, and somebody frying something a few floors up.
“She said I needed to move,” he replied. “Said if I stayed, I was gon’ keep… doin’ the same shit over and over.”
His mom hummed quietly.
“That girl always could see through you.”
“Yeah,” CJ admitted. “She do that.”
“You listen to her real quick,” she added. “But when I say something—”
“Ma,” CJ cut in, a grin slipping through despite himself. “Don’t start.”
“I’m just sayin’.”
He climbed the stairs with calm, measured steps.
“She ain’t tell me what to do,” he said. “She just ain’t let me lie about it.”
Silence again.
“…You gon’ be careful?” she asked.
CJ reached his floor and stopped outside his apartment.
Just a door.
Didn’t feel like much.
“…Yeah,” he answered. “Always.”
“You better be. I don’t care how strong you think you is. You still my baby.”
He rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth still lifted.
“Aight, Ma.”
“And call me tomorrow.”
“Damn, I just got here—”
“Tomorrow, CJ.”
“…Yeah. Tomorrow.”
“Love you.”
CJ smiled to himself.
“…Love you too.”
The call ended.
The hallway suddenly felt a little too still.
CJ slid the key into the lock, turned it, and stepped inside.
The apartment greeted him with silence.
No movement. No sound.
Just space.
Waiting.
CJ stood in the doorway for a moment, taking it all in. His eyes moved without rushing as he searched for the nearest exit, hiding spots, and every advantage or disadvantage the apartment could offer. While he scanned, he set his bags down just inside the door.
Living room.
Bare walls.
A window facing the street, city lights bleeding through the glass.
Kitchen off to the side.
A hallway leading deeper in.
Not much.
But it was his.
He walked farther inside, measuring corners, angles, and the distance between each room.
An old habit.
His reflection caught faintly in the window.
For a second, his eyes stood out against the glass, the gold-orange pupils glowing low and steady.
Watching.
He looked away.
“Yeah…” he muttered. “This’ll work.”
Stepping closer to the window, he looked down at the street below.
Halsted stretched out before him—long, uneven, alive without trying to be.
People moved, but not casually. Heads stayed low. Steps came quick. Conversations never seemed to last.
Across the street, a dude leaned against a car like he’d been there all day.
Not on his phone.
Not talking.
Just… there.
A bus rumbled past farther down the block, its brakes hissing as it knelt low before dragging itself forward again.
Beyond that, streetlights stretched one after another until they disappeared into the thicker heart of the city.
For just a second, he could make it out.
Downtown.
Faint.
Its stacked lights sat in the distance like something bigger watching everything from far away.
His attention drifted back.
A window across the street remained lit.
No movement behind it.
Just…
On.
New city.
New start.
That’s what he kept telling himself.
Then something shifted.
Not loudly.
Not clearly.
Just enough.
For half a second, the sounds outside dulled, like somebody had reached over the city and turned the world down one notch too far.
Right before everything snapped back—
The air above the street bent.
Slightly.
Like heat rising off asphalt.
But there wasn’t any heat.
CJ’s brow tightened.
His hand flexed once at his side.
Then it was gone.
The air straightened.
Sound rushed back.
Traffic.
Voices.
Movement.
Normal.
“…Huh.”
He clicked his tongue.
“Probably nothin’.”
Even so…
His body never fully relaxed.
He moved.
The duffel came unzipped.
Clothes out. Folded. Stacked. Set aside.
Shoes found a place against the wall. His charger landed on the counter. A hoodie draped over the back of a chair like it’d already been there for weeks.
Efficient.
Keep moving.
Little by little, the apartment stopped looking empty.
Started looking…
Lived in.
CJ paused in the kitchen and rolled one shoulder.
Too quiet again.
He reached back into the bag—
His phone buzzed.
Video call.
He stared at the screen for a second before answering.
“…Yeah.”
Nya.
Even through a phone screen, she never felt far away.
She leaned back somewhere dim, a braid draped over her shoulder, sapphire beads catching the light in small flashes. Her deep, steady eyes shifted like they were adjusting to him instead of the camera.
“Mm,” she hummed. “You look alive. Good start.”
CJ snorted and propped the phone up so he could keep unpacking.
“Been here ten minutes. Relax, Cus’.”
“Ten minutes is enough time for you to make a bad decision.”
“You called just to hate?”
“I called to check if The Storm Queen scared you back home yet.”
He laughed under his breath.
“She still talkin’ like I’m twelve or some shit. And don’t call her that.”
“She’s right to.”
“Yea, aight.”
“You been talkin’ to her?” he asked.
“She called me before she called you.”
CJ blinked.
“…Of course she did.”
“Very detailed report too,” Nya said calmly. “Conclusion: you’re about to do something reckless in a different zip code. ‘You know he’s a hothead, Nya,’ and a little bit of, ‘AND THAT DUMBASS MAN JUST DOESN’T CARE TO STOP HIM,’ with lightning everywhere.”
“She do too damn much.”
“She does exactly enough.”
CJ shook his head, though there wasn’t any real annoyance behind it.
“…Place decent?” she asked.
“Yeah. It’s straight.”
Her eyes shifted slightly.
“Window placement?”
“Front.”
“Entrances?”
“Front door. Fire escape.”
She nodded once.
“Good.”
CJ stopped unpacking long enough to give her a look.
“You doin’ too much now.”
“Am I?”
“…Hell yeah.”
A quiet beat passed.
Then—
“How’d he take it?”
CJ stilled.
Just for a second.
His eyes dropped.
Silence answered for him.
Nya didn’t press.
“Mm,” she said softly. “Figured.”
He picked up a hoodie, folding it slower this time.
“Yeah… wasn’t really no talk for real.”
She nodded once.
No pity.
Just understanding.
Then her voice lightened on purpose.
“Well… good thing you got me.”
CJ glanced up.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Somebody gotta make sure you don’t turn this place into a headline.”
A smirk tugged at his mouth.
“Damn, you think I’m that bad?”
“I think,” she said calmly, “left unsupervised, you could burn Mt. Fuji and still be angry.”
“…That’s crazy.”
“Is it?”
“…A little.”
A small smile found her face.
Then—
“So I’ll be there soon, by the way.”
CJ frowned.
“Here?”
“Chicago.”
“You?”
“Yea,” she said. “Did I stutter, nigga?”
He blinked.
“…What?”
“Yep. I’m the apartment next to yours. Lease went through.”
CJ just stared at the screen, trying to process what she’d said.
“…You lyin’.”
“I don’t lie.”
He dragged a hand over his face, laughing under his breath.
“Fuck. So you just… planned this?”
“Of course.”
“You ain’t think to tell me?”
“If I told you,” she replied, “you would’ve overthought it.”
“…Yeah.”
“And annoyed me.”
“…Yeah.”
“I avoided that.”
CJ shook his head, but he couldn’t stop the feeling that eased across his chest.
“…When you gettin’ here?”
“Soon. Now finish unpacking, Fireboy.” A devilish grin spread across her face. “Oh, and I’m bringing a surprise guest.”
“There go that smile.”
“Don’t start.”
“Too late.”
She watched him for another moment.
Then her voice softened.
“You did good, CJ.”
That one landed.
He nodded once.
“…Yeah.”
The call ended.
Silence settled over the apartment again.
But this time…
It didn’t feel empty.
Silence settled over the apartment again.
But it wasn’t empty anymore.
CJ looked around the room.
Half-unpacked.
Dim light.
The city outside kept moving like it didn’t care.
Now, though…
It felt like something starting.
Not finished.
But moving.
“Aight,” he muttered.
Back to work.
Time slipped by.
Calls.
Messages.
Voices from home.
Familiar.
Grounding.
“Yeah, I’m straight… nah, cus’, it ain’t like that…”
Another call came through.
“Man, I just moved, I ain’t die, nigga. Damn.”
Then—
“Kamari, chill—”
A small smile pulled at the corner of his mouth.
“I said I’m comin’ back. Relax.”
He leaned against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.
“Just give me a minute, aight? I gotta get right out here first.”
A pause.
“…Yeah. I’ll bring you something.”
That earned him half an argument.
He laughed.
“Aight. Go to sleep.”
The call ended.
The apartment looked different now.
Still small.
Still simple.
But his.
His clothes were put away. His shoes sat neatly against the wall. Chargers were plugged in. Job applications lay half-finished, some already submitted.
He’d been moving all day.
Hadn’t even noticed.
“…Shit, it’s late,” he muttered.
His movements slowed as he checked the front door, then wandered back to the window for one last look outside.
The city had quieted.
Not asleep.
Just…
Watching.
He let the curtain fall.
“Aight.”
He reached for his phone.
It buzzed.
One message.
From his dad.
Take care son.
CJ stared at the screen.
That was it.
No speech.
No lecture.
Just three words.
Something in his chest—tight all day—finally loosened.
“…Yeah,” he murmured.
He locked the phone and set it aside.
For the first time since he got here…
He felt steady.
Not settled.
Not comfortable.
But ready.
CJ switched off the last light and walked toward the bedroom.
Darkness settled through the apartment, the glow of the city bleeding faintly around the edges of the curtains.
Outside, Chicago kept breathing.
Inside…
CJ finally let the day end.
And for the first time since leaving St. Louis—
He was ready for whatever came next.
