Dre stood in front of the boarded-up shop on Halem Street, eyes cold, jaw clenched. The rusted sign above it read: Manny's Auto & Bodywork, but everyone from the old days knew it wasn't just a mechanic shop. This was where Dre's brother, Karter, took his last breath. This was where it had all started.
He hadn't been back in over a year. Since the night the sirens drowned out the gunfire. Since he'd watched his brother's blood seep into the cracked concrete under the yellow glow of streetlights. But Dre wasn't here to mourn today. He was here for answers.
Since Elric arrived, Dre's game had shifted. He had to act smarter, faster, quieter. And while the school drama brewed in the background, Dre realized something: Elric was connected to the streets too. Maybe not as deep, maybe not as dirty—but he had the scent of someone who'd tasted the underworld. And the streets never forget a face.
Dre reached under a loose panel by the wall and pulled out an old, dust-covered shoebox. Inside were burner phones, notes, faded photographs, and a single name scribbled on torn paper: Cassius "Blitz" Morrow.
Blitz was Karter's right-hand man. After Karter died, he disappeared. Rumor had it, Blitz had joined a rival crew that now ran the port area. Dre knew that if anyone had answers about that night—and about Elric's involvement—it was Blitz.
---
Portside District– Midnight
The streetlights flickered like broken memories. Dre moved through the alleys with the confidence of someone who'd once called this jungle his home. Hood off. Face clear. He wasn't hiding anymore.
A figure leaned against a graffiti-covered wall, puffing on a short cigar.
"Didn't think you'd show," the man said. Thick voice. Heavy shoulders. Tattoos running down his arms like roadmaps of old wars.
"I want the truth, Blitz," Dre said flatly.
Blitz dropped the cigar and crushed it under his boot. "Karter's truth or yours?"
"Both."
Blitz eyed him for a long second, then motioned him closer. "There's something you should know. Elric's father didn't just work in cyber defense. He worked with a private task force. The kind that was hired to clean up gang-related messes. Including ours."
Dre's pulse spiked. "You're saying Elric was planted?"
"I'm saying your new classmate's daddy ordered the raid that killed your brother. Elric might not know all the details, but he's the reason that bullet flew."
Dre didn't move. He felt like ice was pouring through his veins. His fists clenched slowly.
"And now he's in your school. Getting close. Watching," Blitz added. "You think that's coincidence?"
---
The Next Day – School Library
Elric sat alone, headphones in, but not playing music. Just static, white noise—his way of filtering the world.
Dre walked in like nothing had changed. Sat across from him.
"Elric," he said casually. "You ever heard of a man named Blitz Morrow?"
Elric looked up slowly. "Why?"
"Because he told me your father's not just some tech guy. He runs cleanup crews. Private enforcement. And the night my brother died, your dad's crew was there."
Elric didn't flinch. But his eyes gave it away—shock, then calculation. "I didn't know," he said quietly.
Dre leaned in. "You do now. So you better choose what side of this story you're going to be on. Because this isn't just chess anymore. It's blood."
For the first time, Elric didn't have a comeback.
---
Evening– Zara's Journal Entry
"Dre's changing again. He's colder, sharper. And I think he knows something big. I saw him leave school early today. He went back to Halem Street. That place haunts him, and now it's haunting me. I think the war is starting again. And this time, no one's going to walk away clean."
---
Midnight– Dre's Room
The wall was full of strings, photos, digital printouts. Dre's investigation board had grown. At the center were two names: Karter and Elric. Below them: Blitz, Zara, Cass, Detective Hale, Principal Monroe, Elric's Dad.
He circled Elric's photo and drew a red line to his father.
"You killed my brother," he whispered. "You're going to feel it too. Piece by piece."