Dante Rayne was the kind of kid who spent most of his time trying not to stand out. If there was an award for most forgettable face in a crowd, he would've won it, no contest. At least, that's how he liked it. He'd worked hard to make himself invisible, blending into the background like another shadow in the city. Nobody knew about his past—about the things that haunted him every time he closed his eyes or the nightmares that yanked him awake in the middle of the night.
It was always the same dream: the sterile, cold walls of a lab, the hum of machinery, and the needle that pierced his skin like a fire burning under his flesh. He'd wake up in a sweat, feeling the pulse of that inhuman speed coursing through his veins, begging to be unleashed.
But he never used it. Not anymore.
Today, he was just Dante, a high school freshman doing his best to blend in with the other kids at Benson High, trying not to attract attention. It wasn't hard, really. He wasn't the type to join clubs or sports teams—he left that to the kids who had the energy for it. In class, he sat at the back, slouched in his chair, eyes fixed on his desk, a ball cap pulled low over his eyes. Most teachers barely noticed him.
The only one who did was Emily, his younger sister. She was the only person who knew the real Dante, who saw through his attempts to disappear. And even then, she didn't know everything. She didn't know about the facility, the experiments, or the men in dark suits who used to chase them through the streets when they were younger.
Dante had worked hard to keep those secrets buried. Emily thought they'd just run away from home because their parents didn't want them anymore. She never knew how far from the truth that was.
"Hey, Dante, you coming to the game after school?"
Dante barely lifted his eyes from the textbook in front of him. It was Casey Owens, one of the kids who sat near him in English class. Casey was the typical jock, all muscles and zero subtlety. His varsity jacket hung off his broad shoulders, and his voice always seemed to boom through the room like he thought everyone needed to hear what he had to say.
"Nah," Dante muttered, shaking his head. "Got stuff to do."
"Man, you're missing out," Casey said, leaning on Dante's desk. "This game is gonna be epic. We're taking on Ridgewood High. Last year's champs. You should come."
Dante knew what Casey was doing. It wasn't the first time he'd tried to pull Dante into some kind of social event. But he couldn't risk it. Crowds, attention, anything that might cause him to lose control—those were off the table.
"I'll pass," Dante said, voice low. "But thanks."
Casey shrugged, but his easy grin didn't falter. "Suit yourself, man. You ever change your mind, you know where to find me."
Dante offered a weak smile and watched as Casey sauntered away, heading toward the cluster of other athletes near the front of the class. A pang of something—regret?—tugged at him, but he pushed it away. This was the way it had to be.
The bell rang, and Dante gathered his things quickly, slipping out of the classroom before anyone else had the chance to stop him. His feet carried him automatically to the exit of the school. The day had been long enough, and he needed to move.
Running. That's what kept him grounded.
Out on the track behind the school, Dante waited until the area was clear. The cool autumn air filled his lungs as he scanned the open field. Not a soul in sight. He could feel the familiar itch in his muscles, the almost unbearable urge to run, to let the speed that boiled under his skin explode in a burst of energy.
"Not too fast this time," he whispered to himself.
He stretched, tightening the laces on his worn-out sneakers, and then took off. His feet hit the pavement in a smooth, rhythmic stride. The world blurred around him as his speed increased, but he kept himself in check. The last thing he needed was someone noticing how fast he was. He kept it just fast enough to feel the wind against his face, just fast enough to blur out the noise of the world around him.
For a while, the rhythm of his heartbeat and the sound of his shoes on the track were the only things that mattered. His body settled into the pace, the familiar push and pull of muscle and sinew. In these moments, he could almost forget who he was.
Almost.
But the memories were always there, waiting to break through. He could still hear the echo of those footsteps in the halls of the facility. He could still feel the cold stare of Agent Knox, the man who had orchestrated everything. The man who still wanted him back.
Dante pushed harder, his pace increasing without thinking, until the world turned into a blur of colors and shapes. His body begged him to go faster, to push beyond the limits of human speed.
But he couldn't. Not here.
Dante slowed himself down before he crossed into dangerous territory. When he finally came to a stop, panting and covered in sweat, he glanced over his shoulder. The field was still empty, but the paranoia never left him. He always felt like someone was watching, waiting for him to slip up.
He grabbed his backpack and walked off the track, trying to shake the feeling that he wasn't alone. He couldn't stay too long in one place, couldn't risk drawing attention. But even as he walked away, his thoughts drifted to Emily. He had to protect her. He had promised himself that after they escaped, nothing would touch her again.
As Dante walked, he heard the buzz of his phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A text from Emily.
Emily: Hey, I'm walking home from practice. Meet me at the park?
Dante smiled. His sister was always the one constant in his life, the one thing that kept him tethered to this world. She didn't know what he was capable of, and he hoped she never would.
Dante: On my way.
He shoved the phone back into his pocket and headed for the park. It wasn't far from the school, and the walk gave him time to clear his head. He needed to stay focused. As much as he wanted to use his speed to solve everything, he knew better.
When Dante arrived at the park, the sun was starting to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the trees. He spotted Emily sitting on one of the swings, her long brown hair tied back in a ponytail. She looked up as he approached, her face lighting up with a smile that always managed to brighten his day.
"Hey," she said, hopping off the swing and walking over to him. "You ready to go home?"
"Yeah," Dante replied, ruffling her hair like he always did. "You didn't wait too long, did you?"
"Nope. Just enjoying the weather," she said, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. "You look like you've been running again. You should try out for the track team, you know."
Dante laughed, shaking his head. "Nah, I'm not really into that kind of thing."
"You're fast enough," Emily teased. "I don't know why you don't give it a shot."
"Maybe someday," Dante said, though they both knew it was a lie. He could never join the track team, never risk anyone finding out what he was really capable of.
They started walking together, chatting about the day as they headed home. For a moment, everything felt normal. Just a brother and sister enjoying each other's company, the weight of the world temporarily forgotten.
But that feeling didn't last.
As they turned the corner toward their house, Dante's phone buzzed again. He frowned, pulling it out and checking the screen. This time, it wasn't Emily. It was a number he didn't recognize. His heart skipped a beat.
The text was short, but it sent a chill down his spine.
Unknown: We know who you are, Dante. You can't run forever.
Dante stopped dead in his tracks, his hand tightening around the phone. Emily glanced at him, concern flickering across her face.
"Everything okay?" she asked.
"Yeah," Dante said, forcing a smile. "Just… nothing. Let's get home."
But as they walked, Dante couldn't shake the feeling that his carefully constructed life was beginning to crumble. The shadows of his past were catching up to him, and this time, he didn't know if he could outrun them.