Chapter 07

Chapter 07

Night Run

Night draped itself over Nima like a velvet cloak, soft at the edges but hiding sharp dangers beneath. Streetlights hummed. Motorbikes buzzed along the main roads. The city never truly slept—only shifted moods.

Adams stood on a rooftop overlooking the harbor, the wind tugging gently at his jacket. Below, the ocean glimmered with moonlight, reflecting the scattered lights of anchored fishing boats.

He felt the weight of the moment.

His first real patrol.

Dr. Bannerman adjusted the earpiece clipped to his collar. “Adams, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” he replied, trying not to sound nervous.

“Good. I’ve synced your vitals to my monitors. Don’t push too hard.”

Adams smirked. “Doc, that’s like asking water not to be wet.”

“Then try not to drown,” she shot back.

Adams stepped to the edge of the roof. His pulse quickened. The city stretched out before him like an obstacle course waiting to be conquered.

He crouched.

Focused.

And then—

WHOOSH!

The world became a blur of motion and streetlight.

Adams zipped across rooftops in flickers of blue. His footsteps made soft thunderclaps as he bounded over alleys, ducked under satellite dishes, and leaped between buildings. Each movement came easier than the last. He could feel the city’s rhythm—its heartbeat matching his.

For the first time, he let himself enjoy it.

He wasn’t running away from danger.
He wasn’t panicking.
He was… free.

He landed atop an old radio tower, scanning the streets below.

“Doc, I don’t see anything unusual,” he said.

“Good. Stay alert. The Black Vultures rarely stay quiet for long.”

Adams was about to reply when he heard something—far away, faint, but unmistakable.

A scream.

He instantly locked onto the direction. Three blocks away. Near the market district.

“Doc,” he said, voice tense, “I’ve got something.”

“Be careful, Adams.”

He didn’t answer.

He ran.

The market at night was a maze of empty stalls, overturned crates, and flickering lights. Adams blinked onto the main path and spotted the source of the scream.

A young man backed against a wall, clutching a backpack. Three masked Vultures closed in on him, knives glinting under the lamps.

Adams stepped out from the shadows.

“Evening, gentlemen.”

All three spun around.

“It’s him!” one shouted. “The blur!”

Adams cracked his neck.
“Actually, I prefer The Blink. But I’m flexible.”

One rushed him.

Adams sidestepped so fast the attacker tripped over his own momentum and skidded across the ground.

Another slashed at him.

Adams flickered out of reach, tapped the man’s shoulder, and sent him spinning into a fruit stall.

The last Vulture hesitated—then pulled a gun.

Adams froze.

A gun was different.
A gun was real.

The man fired.

Adams didn’t think.

He moved.

The bullet crawled through the air like a drifting insect. Adams saw it spinning, slicing, glinting under the street lamps. He stepped aside, brushing past it as gently as a breeze.

He reappeared behind the shooter.

“Guns? Really?” he said quietly. “Not smart.”

He snatched the weapon, bent the barrel, and tossed it aside.

The Vulture trembled.
“W-what are you?”

Adams leaned in close.
“Fast.”

A gust of pressure blasted outward as he flickered behind the man, knocking him flat with a single push.

Silence settled.

Adams exhaled shakily. The young man he saved stepped forward.

“H-how did you do that?” the boy stammered.

Adams scratched the back of his head. “Long story. You okay?”

Before the boy could reply, Dr. Bannerman’s voice crackled through the earpiece.

“Adams, you need to get back to the roof. Now.”

Adams frowned.
“Why? What happened?”

“The patrol wasn’t the mission,” she said, her voice tight with urgency.
“It was the test.”

Adams blinked. “Test?”

Suddenly, the ground beneath him rumbled.

A pulse of black energy rippled through the market, shattering wooden stalls and knocking lanterns from their hooks. The boy screamed and ran.

Adams turned slowly.

Standing at the far end of the market, surrounded by swirling darkness, was Obrenu.

His eyes glowed red with amusement.

“Impressive speed,” Obrenu said. “But I expected more.”

Adams’s stomach dropped.

Dr. Bannerman’s voice came through the earpiece, shaking.

“Adams… run.”

Obrenu pointed at him.

“You and I,” he said, “have unfinished business.”