“This is good, right?” Jenny asked around a mouthful of Oreo. “I mean, it sounds like you’re harder to kill than we thought.”

  “I don’t know. I don’t feel good.” Ali drew his knees close to his chest, body nestled deep in the worn-out beanbag chair that dominated his bedroom floor.

  “Did it hurt?” Kendall leaned against the wall, shoulder braced against Ali’s Anthony Edwards poster.

  “Did getting his face shaved off by a stop sign hurt?” Jenny said, mimicking Kendall’s concerned tone. “Of course it fucking hurt. Bro’s in the fetal position right now just remembering it.”

  “Actually, it kind of didn’t.”

  “Ha!” Kendall shot Jenny a look.

  “I was kinda numb. I don’t know. Maybe it was because too much was happening. Maybe I was in shock.” Ali fiddled with his finger. The hangnail he’d had yesterday was gone, the flesh at the nailbed newly pristine. The blisters on his hands, from sporadic attempts at weightlifting with Ben, were smoothed fresh. “I saw my own, like, lower jaw fly off. I went over afterward and found it, it’d landed under a bench at the bus stop. It was still there.”

  “Whoa, did you bring it home?” Jenny looked around his room, eyes flicking from the desk overstuffed with old homework and doodled-over scratch paper, to the twin bed in the corner, draped with the same duvet he’d had since middle school.

  “Of course he didn’t bring it home. He’s traumatized.”

  “I’m not- I don’t know what I am.” Ali drew his knees up further. “All I know is that I don’t want anything like that to happen again.”

  “Sorry, kid. That’s not gonna be a wish you get granted.”

  Ali’s bedroom door swung open, revealing Marco, freshly dressed in what looked like a thousand-dollar vest and suit pants, leaning against the doorframe on the other side. All three of the room’s denizens yelped and jumped. Jenny, sitting where she was at Ali’s desk, cursed as her flailing hand knocked a mug full of pens to the floor, shattering it.

  “Jesus Christ-”

  “Sorry to startle you,” Marco said, grinning.

  “JESUS Christ,” Ali reiterated. “Stop doing- Stop teleporting into my shit. What do you have against, like, ringing the doorbell?”

  “I didn’t teleport, I came in through a window.” Marco’s perfect smile slanted, took on an air of concern. “You didn’t call. Thought you said you would.”

  “Yeah, well, I was a little preoccupied last night.”

  “Uh-huh? Do tell.”

  Ali, with peppered bits of additional context thrown in by Jenny, retold the story of the attack the previous night. As he got to the part about his sudden bouts of physical regeneration, Marco started to fold his arms, cocking one of his eyebrows higher with each fantastical detail.

  “So sorry if texting you wasn’t at the top of my mind,” Ali said, eyes downcast. “I was busy getting beat to a pulp by some random lady.”

  “Right,” Marco said, drawing the word out. “Listen. I’m sure that was really, uh, shocking. When you’ve spent your whole life pretty insulated from real violence, it can really shake you up to find yourself on the receiving end of a lot of it. But- I mean, you didn’t regrow your jaw.”

  “I did?” Ali was surprised at the pushback. This guy had turned into a glowing tornado siren in his car a little over a day ago, and now he was getting skeptical? “I absolutely did.”

  Marco shook his head. “Maybe you thought you did, because it looked like she hit you really hard in the face, and you didn’t actually feel it because your Aura sucked up all the extra energy, and, you know, in the heat of things, your brain hallucinated some blood, for a bit, because that’s what you were expecting-”

  “No!” Ali stood up from the beanbag. “No, I- It wasn’t just my jaw. She cut me open, multiple times. With a stop sign. Sent me flying across a street. Planted me into the sidewalk like I was a fucking parking meter. My blood was everywhere. I didn’t make it up.”

  “That’s not how this works, man. Auras, they can do a lot, they can help you pull off some objectively superhuman shit, but they operate in a really broad way. Auras are for manipulating energy, or, if you’re good enough, maybe knocking some matter around if you’ve got an object small enough to fit inside yours. They let you hit harder, make fire and electricity, block bullets. They don’t let you do anything. Shapeshifting, mind reading, flying, whatever. Regeneration. That’s comic book stuff.”

  Ali gaped. “I know what happened to me. I-” he brandished his hand. “I used to have a scar, right here, from where I cut myself opening a chili can as a kid-”

  “Embarrassing backstory,” Jenny snarked.

  “It’s gone! It’s gone.” He waved his hand around, feeling self-conscious, now, like he was raving. His gaze fell on Kendall. “Ken, come on, you believe me-”

  “Sure,” Kendall shrugged. “Not any weirder than the baseball thing.”

  “No, it is,” Marco said. “The baseball was just excess force. Too much sauce on the ball. That’s simple, an explosion or an engine can accelerate an object. Growing someone’s hand back, cell-by-cell? Where would he get the matter for that?”

  “Are you just here to gaslight me, or are you going to help me out? Explain how to-” Ali grasped at air, wrestling to put his frustrations into words. “Stop all of this from happening. Keep the masked lady away.”

  Marco smiled again. “Like I said, bud, they’re not going away. They want what you have.”

  “I don’t have shit!” Ali laughed, aghast. Why was this happening to him? “I’ve got ninety bucks in my Cashapp. A secondhand van that’s this close to blowing its transmission. A 3.5 GPA. I don’t even have a job.”

  “They want your Aura.” Marco stepped forward, tugged at his cufflinks, the posture of a man sliding into a pitch. “They want to kill you and absorb your power for themselves.”

  “Well I didn’t ask for an ‘Aura.’ They can have it.”

  “The only way for them to have it is to kill you first.”

  “Fucking-” Ali buried his head in his hands, growled with frustration. “How does that even work?”

  “Well, when you eat meat, right, your body gets nutrients and energy from the body of something else. You can’t really get those nutrients without killing an animal first.”

  “Sure you could,” Jenny said. “If I took a bite out of a cow’s shoulder it’d still live.”

  Marco frowned a little. “Fine. Bad example.”

  “Plus, it’s not like I absorb the power of a chicken every time I have a caesar salad,” Kendall added. “I just get like three hundred calories out of it.”

  Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.

  “I said it was a bad example!”

  “How do we stop them, then?” Ali asked. “From eating me.”

  “It’s not literally eating-” Marco cut himself off. “Forget the analogy. We stop them the same way animals in the wild convince predators not to eat them: by making you more trouble than you’re worth.”

  “And we do that by?”

  “Training you.” Marco smiled, straightened his jacket. “You can’t regrow lost limbs, but you’ve still got plenty of potential. That fastball you threw, the amount of power behind it, that’s something someone at your experience level shouldn’t have been able to manage.”

  “Ooh, Ali’s the chosen one,” Jenny said.

  “Between your natural talent and my experience, I bet I’d be able to get you into pretty formidable shape over the course of maybe a couple weeks. Get you more than strong enough to keep yourself and your friends, your family, safe.”

  “In return for what?” Ali deadpanned. “No offense, but you don’t give me good Samaritan vibes. You want something from me.”

  Marco’s grin was lupine, now. “Good eye. The cost would be pretty low, all things considered. I teach you how to stay safe, you help me out with two or three jobs.”

  “What kind of job?”

  Marco shrugged. “Security.”

  “You’re being vague.”

  “I’d call you in to back me up, if someone came for me. Or if I needed a hand taking care of a threat preemptively.”

  Ali scoffed. “If you’re such an expert, why do you need me?”

  “Different people got different strengths, bud. I’m strong enough, but fighting’s never been my bag. I’m more of the watch-and-listen type.” Marco gestured to Ali appreciatively. “I could use some muscle while I’m in town.”

  “Would I have to kill people?”

  Marco chuckled, as if the question was silly. “I mean, yeah. Listen, kid, the game we’re playing is serious shit, and the players are all-in. Murder’s the only thing on the table. Did the lady who ambushed you seem all that worried about crossing that line?”

  “Then no.”

  Marco and Jenny both raised their eyebrows as Ali stepped back and crossed his arms. Kendall nodded knowingly.

  “What do you mean ‘no?’”

  “I mean I’m not killing people.”

  “Kid, that’s not really a decision you get to make anymore.”

  “There’s always a choice.” Ali shook his head, stoic. “I don’t do violence. Not my bag.”

  Kendall’s eyes flicked over Ali’s shoulder, lighted on the photo on his desk: his dad and him on a fishing trip, his father leaning, bracing over his prosthetic leg as he helped 11-year-old Ali reel in a bass.

  Marco shook his head, laughed darkly. “I don’t think you understand the stakes-”

  “I get it. I had my shit wrecked in public yesterday. I saw my own guts. I get it.” Ali drew his chin up, kept his gaze steady. “I’m not killing people.”

  Marco met Ali’s eyes, smile widening a fraction in disbelief. After a second of frustrated silence, he sighed. “Fine. Fine. You’re turning down a deal, putting yourself in serious danger, but I can respect a guy with principles. Plus, you know, a halfhearted bodyguard’s probably worse than no bodyguard at all.”

  “Damn right,” Ali said. He took a step toward Marco. “I really don’t want to see you again. You’ve got your answer. Now please, for the love of God, stop showing up in my-”

  Another step forward brought his foot down on a shard of the mug Jenny had shattered. Ali cursed and hopped backward, falling onto the beanbag, bringing his foot up to show blood seeping around the ceramic, through his sock.

  “Oh, shit, Ali, sorry-” Jenny began.

  “Nah, it’s fine. It’s fine. Actually, look, here, here’s proof, man, that I wasn’t lying about last night.” Ali tugged off his sock and, with a quick jerk and a squeamish groan from Kendall, yanked the shard from his foot.

  “Ali, put your foot away, I really don’t want to see… Marco trailed off.

  Ali’s wound hissed as it welded itself shut. Skin closed over muscle, veins roped themselves back into neat circuits. A thin vapor of almost-invisible steam vented from the hole as it closed. Within seconds, Ali’s foot was back to normal.

  Jenny clapped delightedly. “Oh shit! Oh my god! You’re like, fuckin’, uh, Hugh Jackman!”

  “Wolverine?” Kendall’s eyes were wide, trained on the space the wound used to be. “Ali, man, wait. Are you immortal?”

  “I don’t think so? Just hard to hurt, probably.” Ali looked up at Marco, who appeared curiously blank.

  “Ali,” he said, voice flat. “How did you do that?”

  “I’m not doing it, it just happens.”

  Marco’s face remained blank as he thought this over. “It doesn’t make any sense. You’re not drawing the energy from anywhere-”

  “You’re telling us it doesn’t make sense,” Kendall said. “I’m not totally convinced the last three days haven’t just been some sort of stress dream myself.”

  Marco suddenly locked eyes with Ali. His smile was gone. “I’m a wealthy man, Ali. I’d be willing to offer you a lot of money to work with me.”

  “Wait, wait, wait,” Ali waved his hands. “Just a second ago you ‘respected my principles’ and now you’re back to poaching me?”

  “Half a million a week. Think, Ali,” Marco leaned closer, radiating a serene sort of intensity. “Think of how that money would transform the lives of the people close to you.”

  “I’m not killing people for money.”

  “Uh, I’m sorry, did he say half a million?” Jenny asked. “Like, five hundo thousand? A week?”

  “That’s not real,” Kendall said.

  “It is,” Marco insisted.

  “Even if it was. No. My answer is no.”

  Marco nodded slowly, drew himself to his feet. He rubbed his face with a hand, pinched the bridge of his nose. His right foot was tapping, now, one pristine loafer punching a dent into the carpet. “God damnit, kid. I really hoped you’d take the money.”

  “I’m not for sale, man. I-”

  Marco darted across the room and scooped Kendall from the ground, one hand hoisting her easily by the neck. She made a choking sound of surprise and fumbled at his arm, pulled herself up to alleviate the pressure on her windpipe.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa-” Jenny stepped back, hands up, warding.

  “Put her down!” Ali demanded. He rolled up from the beanbag and charged at Marco, who swatted him aside, knocking him back to the floor.

  “If you don’t agree to work with me,” Marco intoned, enunciating every word carefully. “I will come back here and kill your friends. Your family. One at a time, for every day that you don’t report back.”

  “Fuck you-”

  “I could do it. I wouldn’t want to do it, but it’d be dead easy, kid.” Marco hoisted Kendall higher for emphasis. Her skin was darkening, now, her face growing purple as she fought to breathe. “I know where you all live. I can follow you anywhere. I can kill you with a thought.”

  “Put her down-”

  “I need your word, kid.”

  “I-” Ali looked from Jenny to Marco, mouth agape, his legs kicking to right himself from the ground. “I can’t-”

  “Now.” Marco darted across the room, too fast to follow, and now he had Jenny’s throat in his other arm, both girls’ feet kicking inches above the carpet. “Say you accept.”

  “Fuck. Fuck, I-”

  “Just do it” Kendall managed to hiss. Jenny’s eyes were pleading.

  “Fine! Fuck. Fine. I agree.”

  “You agree to what?”

  “To work for you,” Ali growled.

  “If I ask you to kill someone, will you?”

  “I don’t… I can’t-”

  Marco shook the girls, eliciting grunts and gasps from each.

  “Fine! Fine. Fine. Just drop them.”

  Marco nodded, and let each of the girls fall gasping to the floor. He crossed the room in a stride, yanked Ali to his feet, and jabbed a finger in his face.

  “No backing out now. I’ll come get you whenever I need you. If you refuse, at any point, a friend of yours dies. These girls, your friend at the hospital. Your mom. I’ll move to pets if I run out of people. Then random bystanders.”

  “You’re the fucking devil,” Ali snarled.

  “I’m one of the good guys.”

  “Bullshit,” Jenny croaked, massaging her neck.

  “If Ali can do that,” Marco pointed at his foot, at the space the wound used to be. “If he can make matter and energy out of nothing, then he’s going to be able to save a lot of people. If he follows my directions, and lives up to the potential I now see in him, he’s going to be a savior to thousands. Maybe millions.”

  “Why not lead with that?” Kendall asked in between gulps of air.

  “Because he’ll need to kill people to do it, and your friend made it clear that his principles wouldn’t allow for that.” Ali shook his head. “I’m sorry, kid, but if this is what it takes to get you on my side, I’ll do it.”

  “Yeah. Yeah, man, you’re the victim here,” Ali said.

  “No. No, I’m one of the lucky ones.” Marco stepped back into the hallway. “It’s the poor saps like you, the ones strong enough to make a difference fighting, who have the short end of the stick. I don’t envy you, kid. See you soon.”

  And with that, Marco was gone.