In a dimly lit alley, a young boy sprints for his life, the sound of his ragged breaths drowned out by the shouts of armed men chasing him.

  "Stop, or we’ll shoot!" one of them yells, his voice sharp and menacing.

  The boy’s heart pounds, fear gripping him, but he doesn’t stop. Somewhere deep inside, he’s already accepted his fate. Still, he runs. Above them, perched on the edge of an elevated walkway, a tall man and a woman in a sleek coat watch the scene unfold. The woman smirks, her eyes gleaming with interest.

  “Look at what we’ve got here,” she murmurs. Then, leaning over, she calls out, “Hey, boy! Need a hand?”

  The boy doesn’t answer. He’s too focused on escaping, only to find himself cornered in a dead end. Desperation takes over, and he screams, “I need help!”

  Before he can blink, one of the men raises a shotgun and fires. The blast tears through the boy, sending him to the ground in a heap. Blood pools around his mangled body as the woman sighs.

  “I really didn’t want to ruin my coat today,” she says flatly. Then she raises her hand.

  The air grows heavy, and the two gunmen freeze. They clutch at their throats, their faces contorted in silent agony. Blood trickles from their mouths, eyes, and fingertips. Their screams, though muted, seem to echo in the boy’s fading consciousness. His vision blurs as he watches in horror. What… is happening?

  The large man beside the woman speaks. “We could just leave him. He’s not exactly prime material.”

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  The woman tilts her head thoughtfully. “I’m feeling generous today. Besides, I don’t want to go hunting for another candidate. It’s tedious.”

  With a flick of her wrist, she weaves intricate signs in the air. To the boy’s shock, his body begins to piece itself back together, as if time itself rewinds. He gasps, his hands trembling as he looks down at his once-shattered form.

  “I… I was dead,” he whispers, his voice shaking. “What the fuck just happened?”

  The woman crouches down, her piercing gaze locking onto his. “You’re alive because I made it so. Now, your life belongs to me.”

  “No!” the boy shouts, panic rising in his chest. “My life is mine! No one owns me!” He tries to run, but the moment he does, his body seizes up in violent convulsions, pain ripping through him like lightning.

  The woman grabs his face, her fingers cold against his skin. “Ah, ah. There’s an old saying: you can’t outrun fate. And I, little bird, am your fate. I am your master.”

  The large man steps forward, his tone more pragmatic. “You shouldn’t fight it, kid. You need money, right? I saw you steal from those men. Why not work for us—for her?”

  The boy stares at them, his mind racing. “And if I say no?”

  The woman’s smile is razor-sharp. “This isn’t a negotiation.”

  Defeated, he lowers his head. “Fine. But… what even are you?”

  “You don’t need to know who we are,” the woman replies, her voice dripping with authority. “You just need to do what you’re told.”

  The large man crosses his arms. “When she brought you back, she made… modifications. Your muscles are stronger, your speed unmatched, and your body enhanced with abilities beyond any human—or even most animals. You’re a one-man army now.”

  “A… one-man army?” the boy murmurs, the weight of those words sinking in. His thoughts drift for a moment. With this kind of power, I could rob a bank, get my family out of poverty, maybe even become a soldier or an athlete…

  The woman interrupts his thoughts. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. You belong to me. I’ll need you for one job, and then I’ll get your powers back. But trust me—you’ll be paid more than you’ve ever dreamed of.”

  The boy’s eyes glimmer with a spark of hope, unaware of the dark road he’s about to walk. A faint smile forms on his lips, oblivious to the chains tightening around him.