The door clicked shut behind Ruben, sealing him inside a silence so vast it hummed in his ears. The room stretched out before him, a cavern of polished oak floors and high, arched windows filtering afternoon light in honeyed streaks.
It was too much space, enough to fit the small apartment he grew up in when his mom was alive twice over. He stood frozen on the threshold, half-expecting the walls to contract, to snap back into something familiar. They didn't.
He drifted forward, his socked feet whispering against the grain of the wood. The bed too, was a monolith, its dark frame was carved with intricate looping patterns. He ran a finger along the headboard, tracing the grooves. Dust lifted in lazy spirals, catching the light like suspended stars. His mother would've hated that.
She'd been fastidious, wiping surfaces with the edge of her sleeve if she had to, scolding him for tracking mud inside.
A full-length mirror stood in the corner, its surface so clear it seemed to hold another world. Ruben faced it reluctantly. The boy staring back was a stranger, short, coiled dreads framing his face too young for the shadows under its eyes. Bright amber, his mother's eyes, though hers had never looked this hollow until her final moments.
The silver studs he had fished out of his pocket and put in his ears caught the light. He tugged the collar of his shirt aside. The crow on his shoulder stared back, its eye unblinking.
The wardrobe yielded clothes in muted tones, blacks, grays, deep blues. He pulled on a hoodie, the fabric soft against his skin, and a pair of loose-fitting trousers. Dressed, he felt no more settled.
The hallway outside was a gallery of dust motes drifting through slanting light. Ruben moved through it like a ghost, trailing fingers along the wainscoting. The house was a living thing. Its bones were like the floorboards that creaked with each step, its air was thick with the scent that filled his nostrils with aged wood.
For the first time in his life, Ruben was truly alone. Not the performative solitude of locked bathroom stalls or rooftops at dawn, this was absolute. No father's voice to instantly flare up an angsty feeling, no Maya trying to look out for him like he's some feral cat. It was all gone. They were all gone.
Voices rose from somewhere below, sharp and discordant. Corbin's, a blade's edge. "...the hell kind of rich-ass hermit lives in a place like this?"
Dario's reply was as smooth as poured ink. "The kind who forgets he owns it."
Ruben followed the sound down the sweeping staircase, its banister carved into the sinuous shape of a serpent. The grand room below was all vaulted ceilings and sunlight pooling in liquid gold on the floors. Corbin stood in the center, arms crossed, his scowl etched deep. Dario lounged in an armchair, one leg slung over the other, looking for all the world like a king tolerating a jester.
"'You still tired?" Dario asked as his gaze flickered toward Ruben.
Ruben shrugged.
Corbin snorted. "Yeah, real chatty, huh?" He jabbed a finger at Dario. "This guy says he's gonna teach us some kind of bullshit magic."
"Egos," Dario corrected, stretching. "And yes. But first," his phone buzzed, a sound like a trapped hornet. He plucked it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and tossed it onto a side table with a dismissive flick. "First, we meditate."
Corbin's face twisted. "You've gotta be…"
"Quiet." Dario's voice didn't raise. It didn't need to. The world landed in stone, and Corbin's mouth snapped shut. "Sit."
They both sat cross-legged on the floor, facing each other. Ruben exhaled, his breath stirring the dust between them.
Dario's voice softened, a low current beneath the silence. "Close your eyes." Ruben obeyed. "Breathe in. Hold it. Out." The rhythm was a bore, Ruben felt like opening his eyes to distract himself with something.
"Now think back. The day you died. Start at the beginning."
The images came unbidden, Ruben finished school as normal, but he didn't go back home. He stayed out with Javi and Dante and he went to get a tattoo. His first tattoo. He got high, came home and got in an argument with his Dad.
Then he left. He was at the bridge where his mother died. And then his dad showed up. His memories skipped like a pebble being thrown across a still pond.
Blood was on his hands, his fathers blood. He tried to leave but was arrested, he didn't even notice the police officers, but the next thing he knew he was in the back of a police car.
"The colour. The sound. The smell. Emotion. Everything. Remember it well."
The feeling Ruben had expected to be the most memorable, was rage. Rage that would rise like a tide. But instead, it was grief that cracked him open, a wave so vast it left him gasping. His mother's voice, long gone, whispered in the hollow of his ear. The weight of the emotion was crushing him.
Something brushed his cheek. Soft, almost fluffy. His eyes flew open.
A dragon coiled in the air before him, its body sinuous as smoke. Wingless, its form was sheathed in golden fur that shimmered like sunlight on water. Teeth like shards of obsidian glinted in a mouth curved into what might've been a smile. It circled him, its presence was thrumming against his skin like a second heartbeat.
Dario's grin was a flash of white. "There it is."
Corbin's eyes snapped open. He took one look at the dragon and sneered. "A fucking mascot."
Ruben ignored him, transfixed. The dragon nuzzled his shoulder, its fur impossibly warm.
Dario clapped his hands. "Now you." He nodded at Corbin. "What'd you feel?"
Corbin's jaw worked. "Like I wanted to punch something."
Dario sighed. "Metaphorically, ideally, but…"
Corbin was already on his feet. "Let's go outside. I wanna look for something."
The training building was a stark, steel-lined cube nestled behind the main house. Dario keyed in a code and the doors slid open with a hiss. Inside, the smell of the air hit Ruben's nostrils violently again. It smelled plain, brand new, but he could tell it had been used, there was a very faint smell of sweat.
The far wall was reinforced metal, its surface dented and scarred.
Dario gestured. "Punching bag's over…"
Corbin's fist was already moving. His fist connected with the wall.
The impact was a thunderclap. The wall buckled, steel groaning as it cratered inward. The floor trembled, dust rained down from the ceiling. Corbin staggered back, staring at his knuckles, unbroken, unbloodied. Then he laughed, wild and unhinged, the sound ricocheting off the wall.
"Guess you weren't bullshitting about magic."
Dario whistled. "Well. That was certainly one way to do it."
Ruben's dragon curled protectively around his shoulders, its eyes slitted.
Dario shook his head, grinning. "Lucky I found you two first."
***
Dario's phone kept buzzing, the sharp sound was an annoying contrast against the quiet of the grand foyer. He plucked it from his pocket, glanced at the screen, and exhaled through his nose, a sound that was more amusement than irritation. The sunlight streaming through the high windows caught the gold stars on his cuffs, turning them into tiny flares.
Ruben lingered by the door, arms crossed, the weight of the dragon's absence strange against his shoulders. It vanished as suddenly as it appeared, leaving only a phantom warmth. Corbin leaned against a wall nearby, scuffing his shoe against the polished floor.
Ruben felt awkward around him. He never knew what to say, so he just didn't speak to him. Corbin was loud, cursed a lot and just seemed like a personality Ruben would have had a lot of trouble with in his old life. But he didn't want to deal with the struggles of his old life anymore, so he ignored it.
Dario finally answered the call, his voice smooth and effortless. "Yes, I am aware." A pause. "No, I don't recall needing permission." Another pause, longer this time. Then, a laugh, low and dangerous. "Tell them to save their outrage for something that matters."
He hung up, slipping the phone back into his pocket with deliberate calm. When he turned to them, his expression was unreadable, but his eyes, those sharp, knowing eyes, held something like amusement.
"We've been summoned." he said, as if announcing a particularly tedious errand.
Corbin's scowl deepend. "Summoned by who?"
"The Bureau." Dario adjusted his sleeve, the fabric whispering against itself. "They'd like you both registered. Officially."
Ruben's fingers twitched. "Why?"
"Because it's a way to monitor those with Egos. It's the law."
Corbin pushed off the wall. "What happens if people don't?"
Dario paused, glancing back at them. "Many don't." A shrug. "People who awaken Egos aren't usually eager to hand over their names to an institution. The fifteen percent statistic? That's just based on what they have, and even then it's exaggerated. It's a guess."
Ruben frowned. "Do we have to go in person?"
"No." Dario answered, pulling the door open. The outside air rushed in, crisp and carrying the faint scent of distant rain to come. "But I have business there so I thought it best to bring you. Since you've been requested." he smirked. "Some of my esteemed colleagues are… displeased. I didn't consult them before taking you in."
A flicker of unease passed through Ruben's chest. Dario caught it and let out a soft chuckle before reaching out, patting Ruben's shoulder with a touch so light it was almost imperceptible.
"Relax," he murmured. "They'll try to intimidate you two. They'll ask questions. But they won't lay a finger on either of you." His gaze shifted to Corbin, who looked ready to bite the older man if he placed a hand on him. "And you don't have to answer a damn thing."
With that, he gestured for the two to go out into the car. He had to make another call. In the brief moment the light caught his white hair it looked like a shining halo. "Car's waiting."
Corbin muttered something under his breath, shoving past Ruben to follow.
***
Ruben sat stiff-backed, fingers curling against his knees, his gaze drifting toward Corbin, only to find the other boy already staring at him, dark eyes sharp as flint.
"The hell you looking at?" Corbin snapped, voice like a matchstick striking against its box.
Ruben didn't flinch. "Nothing."
"Nothing," Corbin mimicked, pitching his voice low and flat in a poor imitation of Ruben's. He rolled his eyes. "You ever say more than just two words at a time? Or is being a brick wall your whole…" He gestured vaguely at Ruben. "... thing?"
The leather seat creaked as Ruben shifted, turning his face toward the window. The glass reflected the hard line of his mouth. "I talk when I have something to say."
Corbin scoffed. "Yeah? Well, try this… what do you actually think about all this?" He flung a hand out, indicating the car, the building, the entire impossible world beyond. "We 'died'. And now we're in some rich bastard's mansion with freaky powers. You telling me that doesn't mess with your head at all?"
Ruben was quiet for a long moment. Outside a leaf skittered across the pavement, carried by a phantom breeze. "It does feel strange," he admitted finally, voice quieter than he intended. "Sometimes I think if I close my eyes for too long. I'll wake up back home."
Corbin's knee stopped bouncing. For once, he didn't have a retort ready. Or maybe he just wanted to stay quiet. The silence stretched, thick and uneasy, until he muttered, "...Yeah." A beat. Then, grudgingly. "Not that I got shit worth going back to anyway."
Ruben glanced at him sidelong. Corbin's jaw was set, his fingers drumming an uneven rhythm against his thigh.
"Where'd you even come from?" Corbin asked abruptly. "Like what city? And when? Just in case there's more weird crap we gotta figure out later."
"Chicago," Ruben said. "Born November 12th 2002."
Corbin snorted. "San Diego. June 6th, same year." He leaned back, arms crossed. "So there's a high chance we're from the same timeline. Good. That'd be too weird."
Ruben almost smiled. Almost. "You trust Dario?"
"I trust that he's the strongest guy here, why not. And that's good enough for now." Corbin shot him a look. "You?"
Ruben exhaled through his nose. "...He hasn't given me a reason not to."
"Wow. A whole sentence." Corbin rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it this time. "And stop being so damn clammy. You're sweating like you're waiting for an execution."
Ruben blinked. He hadn't even noticed the dampness on his palms. He wiped them discreetly against his thighs.
Corbin sighed, long and exaggerated, and slumped further into his seat. The quiet settled over them again, but it was different now, not quite comfortable, but no longer razor-edged.
Outside, a distant door slammed. Dario's Footsteps approached.
They were on the move again.