Tobi stared at the small pouch of Stones in disbelief. It wasn't much by the standards of city dwellers, but for someone like him, this was more wealth than he'd ever held at one time. His hand trembled slightly as he weighed the pouch in his palm.
"Hossam… Why?" Tobi asked, narrowing his eyes.
The merchant's grin faltered for just a moment before he recovered, slipping back into his usual nonchalant demeanor. "Let's just say I value loyalty, kid. You've been helping me for years, even if your scavenging skills are… questionable." He chuckled, but the laughter didn't reach his eyes.
Tobi's instincts told him there was more to this gesture than Hossam was letting on. Friend's voice chimed in his mind, laced with suspicion.
"Don't trust him, Tobi. He's hiding something. Look at how he keeps glancing at those boxes."
Tobi tilted his head, catching Hossam's quick glance at the cargo they had just loaded. The boxes were sealed tightly, and the markings on them were unfamiliar. For all the junk Tobi had scavenged over the years, he'd never seen symbols like these before—curved, almost organic shapes that seemed to pulse faintly under the dim light of the market.
"Hossam," Tobi began carefully, "What's really in those boxes?"
The merchant froze for a fraction of a second, his jovial mask slipping. He leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Listen, kid. You've done your part. Take your payment and forget you saw me here today."
Friend's voice grew more insistent. "Push him, Tobi. He wouldn't pay you this much unless he needed your silence."
Tobi hesitated, weighing his options. His life in the slums had taught him to mind his own business, but something about this situation felt different—dangerous, even.
"I don't want any trouble, Hossam," Tobi said cautiously, slipping the pouch into his pocket. "But if you're mixed up in something bad—"
Hossam cut him off with a sharp laugh. "Bad? Kid, this whole world is bad. You think those elites up in their shining cities give a damn about what happens to us down here? Every day is a fight for survival. I'm just trying to come out on top."
Tobi frowned but didn't press further. He turned to leave, but Friend's voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Ask him where he's taking those boxes. Trust me."
Tobi sighed inwardly. Friend's advice was rarely wrong, even if it often got him into trouble. He turned back to Hossam.
"Where are you delivering this cargo?"
The merchant's smile vanished entirely, replaced by a cold, calculating glare. "That's none of your concern, boy. I've been good to you, but don't push your luck."
The tension between them was palpable, but before either could say another word, a loud crash echoed through the market. Shouts erupted from nearby as a group of men clad in tattered uniforms stormed into the area. Each carried crude weapons—some makeshift clubs, others energy rifles powered by faintly glowing red stones.
"Raiders," Hossam muttered under his breath, his expression darkening.
Tobi's stomach twisted. Raiders were a constant threat in the slums, preying on the weak and taking whatever they wanted. The city's guards rarely ventured beyond the walls, leaving people like Tobi to fend for themselves.
"Get down," Friend hissed.
Tobi ducked behind the truck, his heart pounding. He peeked around the edge, watching as the raiders spread out through the market, looting stalls and roughing up anyone who resisted. One of them, a towering man with a jagged scar across his face, barked orders at the others.
"Find the merchant! He's carrying the shipment we need!"
Hossam cursed under his breath, fumbling to close the truck's doors. Tobi's eyes widened as he realized the raiders were after the very boxes they had just loaded.
"What's in those boxes, Hossam?" Tobi demanded, his voice low but urgent.
"Nothing you need to worry about," the merchant snapped. "Now get out of here before they see you!"
But it was too late. One of the raiders spotted them and shouted to the others. "Over here!"
"Run, Tobi!" Friend yelled.
Tobi hesitated for a split second, torn between self-preservation and the nagging feeling that leaving Hossam to face the raiders alone would come back to haunt him.
The decision was made for him when the scarred leader leveled his rifle at the truck and fired. The blast struck the ground near Tobi's feet, sending him sprawling. Hossam shouted something, but the words were lost in the chaos.
"Move, you idiot!" Friend screamed.
Tobi scrambled to his feet and bolted, weaving through the panicked crowd. He glanced back to see the raiders closing in on Hossam, who was frantically trying to climb into the truck.
"Tobi, you can't just leave him!" Friend's voice was sharper now, almost accusatory.
"What do you expect me to do?" Tobi shot back, dodging a falling crate. "I'm not a Supe!"
"Not yet," Friend muttered cryptically.
Tobi didn't have time to dwell on the comment. He reached the edge of the market and ducked into an alley, his chest heaving. The sounds of the raid grew fainter as he put more distance between himself and the chaos.
But something gnawed at him—a deep, unshakable guilt. Hossam might have been a shady businessman, but he had been one of the few people in the slums who ever showed Tobi any kindness.
"You're going back, aren't you?" Friend asked, his tone resigned.
Tobi clenched his fists. "He paid me more than he should have. If I leave him to die, I'll never forgive myself."
Friend sighed. "Fine. But don't say I didn't warn you."
Tobi turned and began retracing his steps, his heart pounding harder with each passing moment. He wasn't sure what he could do against armed raiders, but he couldn't abandon Hossam.
When he reached the market, it was in shambles. Stalls lay overturned, their wares scattered across the ground. Bodies—both raiders and merchants—littered the area.
Tobi spotted Hossam near the truck, pinned down behind the open door as the scarred leader advanced on him. The merchant's face was pale, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"Tobi, this is insane," Friend hissed.
But Tobi had already made up his mind. He grabbed a broken metal pipe from the ground and crept closer, keeping low to avoid drawing attention.
The scarred leader raised his rifle, aiming it directly at Hossam's head.
"Time's up, old man," he growled.
Before he could pull the trigger, Tobi sprang into action. He swung the pipe with all his strength, striking the raider's arm and sending the rifle clattering to the ground.
The leader roared in pain, whirling to face Tobi. "You little—"
Tobi didn't wait for him to finish. He swung again, aiming for the man's head, but the leader caught the pipe mid-swing and yanked it from Tobi's grasp.
"You've got guts, kid," the leader snarled, raising the pipe to strike.
Tobi braced himself, but before the blow could land, a flash of black darted between them.
Friend materialized in his fox form, his eyes glowing with an eerie light. The leader hesitated, momentarily stunned by the apparition.
"Run, Tobi!" Friend shouted, his voice echoing unnaturally.
But Tobi didn't run. Something deep within him stirred—a primal, electric energy that surged through his veins. His vision blurred, the world around him fading into a haze of color and sound.
When he came to, the leader lay unconscious at his feet, the pipe clutched tightly in Tobi's hands. Hossam stared at him, wide-eyed.
"What… What just happened?" Tobi whispered.
Friend's voice was calm but firm. "You've just taken your first step, Tobi. Welcome to the world of the Gifted."