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No one tries killing my brother.

My physical strength is no match for Stanton, but that doesn’t stop me from punching him with flaming fists. His eyes burn like an eclipse as the green veins in his neck darken. I roll out of the way before he can spit his acid on me. Stanton lunges at me and I become intangible in time for him to phase through me and straight into the wall.

He tried assassinating me before I had these powers. Now I’m the ultimate success story he can’t destroy. I’ve suffered so much abuse at the hands of Stanton: outside my apartment on the street, punched between the eyes at the cemetery, beat up while held captive, and then at the hospital when I was dying.

“You don’t seem up for this rematch,” I tell him before dashing behind him and punching his head. “Different fight now that I’m not tied to a chair, right?”

Stanton swings again, and I hit him with a fire-bolt.

I feel like a character in a video game facing off against the final boss, underwhelmed by how easy it is. This is one of the deadliest specters the city has ever seen and he can’t even get a hit on me. But as I look around at Emil, Wyatt, and Ness, hurting on the floor, I’m reminded that Stanton is really strong. I’m just stronger.

“Brighton!” Prudencia appears, finally catching up after encouraging me to follow the whistling. “The guards are firing down on people with their wand-turrets. It’s out of control. We— Behind you!”

Stanton grabs me and lifts me up. I try phasing away, but then I remember how June also couldn’t use her ability whenever someone physically grabbed her. He races toward the balcony, hurling me over—I can’t fly, I can’t run on air, I can’t fade around like a ghost. I’m flipping forward and

glimpsing the four levels I’m about to fall down when I’m sucked up through the air, landing on my feet right beside Prudencia, whose eyes are still glowing.

“You’re amazing,” I say.

Prudencia telekinetically pins Stanton to the wall. “Go get everyone up!”

I rush to Emil. His face seems to be healing; Stanton won’t be so lucky when I’m done with him. “Bro, we got to go.”

“Ness,” he breathes.

“You saved him, he’s here,” I say. I turn to Ness and spot three guards coming behind Prudencia. “Pru!”

They aim their wands and cast spells.

Prudencia spins, her hands up, and I dash-tackle her just before the spells can hit her.

The guards continue firing at us, but I hold on to her, and the spells phase through us until they’ve unloaded all the charges in their wands. That’s the problem with those weapons—their power is limited. I blast them through the air with fire-bolts, proving how little control they could have over someone special like me.

Stanton runs toward me, and I do what has to be done.

I phase my hand through his chest, squeeze his heart, and rip it out.

His snake-slit eyes widen and I kick him over the balcony, watching his body fall into darkness. His heart drips red and green blood and I set it ablaze in sapphire and silver flames.

I smile over how I conquered a monster who tried to kill me, whose reign is over forever because I had the courage to end it once and for all. It feels incredible to not hold back my potential.

Saviors defend lives. Reapers take them.

Seventy-Three

The Smile

EMIL

My brother’s face is lit up by the sapphire and silver flames burning our enemy’s heart. Brighton’s smile may as well be a promise to his powers that he’ll never bind them. He’s not throwing out human vibes. It’s like the phoenix, hydra, and ghost essences are fully converting him into someone—something else.

What color is my brother’s blood?

“Bright, what did you do?”

“I killed Stanton.”

“I know that! Why?”

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