CHAPTER 448: FLAMES

Chapter 448 – Flames

Across the street, nothing remained but blackened skeletal frames—foundations ripped apart, second floors collapsed inward, walls cracked and covered with the crisscrossed yellow tape of mortal authorities.

And not just the orphanage.

The entire block had gone up in flames.

Shops. Apartments. A medical clinic. A bakery.

All of it.

Burned like it had been designed to burn together.

Lux’s jaw flexed.

His breath fogged briefly in the chilled air. He didn’t notice.

Because his heart wasn’t racing.

It was steady.

And slow.

Too slow for how loud the world felt.

Static prickled in the back of his neck. His power, still suppressed under the suit, pressed against the inside of his bones like it wanted out.

Behind him, a flutter of wings.

A weight landed on his shoulder.

Corvus.

The crow’s feathers were slick, darker than the shadows, eyes glowing.

"Yeah," Corvus rasped in his usual rough voice. "Those people. Over there."

He nodded toward a cluster of shapes leaning around the corner of a ruined liquor store—hoods up, sleeves too clean, boots military-grade, talking in short sentences, always watching the street.

Definitely not police.

Too sharp. Too still.

Not part of the mess.

But watching it.

"Lucky for us," Corvus continued, "they came back to the scene. Like idiots. That’s why my investigation went fast."

Lux didn’t look away from the burned block.

He didn’t blink.

Just let the breeze push soot against his ankles and carry the scent of crime into his lungs.

He whispered, "Status?"

Corvus adjusted his claws on Lux’s shoulder.

"Orphanage was torched first. Timed firebombs. Mortal tech. Three charges. One in the boiler room. One under the front desk. One in the old piano."

Lux’s lips didn’t move. But his eyes darkened.

"Building was full of fire retardant runes. Someone disabled them the night before," Corvus continued. "Remote seal override. Only someone with admin clearance could’ve done that."

"The other owners?"

"Dead. Burned up. Probably silenced. All backups deleted two hours before the blast."

Lux finally turned. Just a little. Just enough to see the men at the corner.

"Who are they?"

"Private enforcement. The company name is fake, but they’re tied to a shell corporation that bid on the orphanage property two months ago."

Lux’s expression didn’t change. But a faint shimmer pulsed over his skin.

[System Alert: Rage Response Rising – Pulse Shift Detected]

Corvus lowered his head. "Want the names?"

"Send them to my list," Lux said quietly. "Mark them. Black and red both."

"Done."

Lux stared at the building.

He could still see it—what it used to be.

Kids running through the front door. That stupid wooden sign painted sky blue with clouds and stars and one crooked sun. The garden out back. The reading nook. The old toy shelf that Miss Elly refused to throw away even though half the dolls had missing eyes.

It wasn’t just arson.

It was erasure.

Calculated.

Cold.

Greedy.

They hadn’t just wanted the land.

They wanted silence.

He didn’t flinch.

The system’s glow blinked gently in his periphery, overlaying faint outlines of where the children had run—last footsteps. Final movements. Collapsed signatures.

A trail of light that only someone like him could see.

Lux didn’t cry.

He never did.

But something in his chest—just beneath the bone—ached.

Then he inhaled. Deep.

Let it out slow.

And turned toward the corner.

"I’ll handle the rest," he said.

Corvus hopped off his shoulder and vanished into shadow.

Lux rolled his neck, the bones cracking quietly.

His eyes fixed on the men down the block.

They didn’t notice him yet.

Didn’t recognize the suit.

Didn’t know what kind of devil wore a smile like that.

But they would.

Oh, they would.

He stepped forward.

And the street grew colder.

He adjusted his cuffs.

Tightened his tie.

And walked into the ash like a man stepping onto a stage built just for vengeance.

The heels of his shoes crunched softly over broken glass and blackened debris, the edges of his suit catching glimmers of orange from the last hints of sunset. Smoke still drifted through the air, curling around his legs like lazy phantoms whispering ’you’re late.’

But Lux wasn’t late.

He was right on time.

The men down the block turned as he approached. Four of them. One leaning against the rusted frame of a scorched car, two pretending to be on a smoke break, and one pacing like he had something to prove.

Military boots. Casual jackets. No badges. No name tags.

They clocked him fast. A lone man in a black suit. Calm steps. Clean smile.

Human.

Or so they thought.

"Hey," the one with the slicked hair said, stepping forward with a squint. "This is a closed scene. You can’t be here."

Lux didn’t slow down.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t care.

"I need to speak with whoever’s in charge of this little real estate venture," he said, voice smooth as polished obsidian. "Property acquisition. Fire demolition. That whole... ugly chain of events."

Slick-hair crossed his arms. "We don’t know what you’re talking about."

"I’m sure you don’t." Lux gave a pleasant smile. "I’m a CFO, you know. Corporate affairs. I handle hostile mergers quite well."

That made one of them snort. "Right. And I’m the Pope."

Lux stopped just in front of them, close enough that the smoke framed him like stage lighting. "Then bless me, your holiness."

The pacing one narrowed his eyes. "You got a death wish, suit?"

"No," Lux replied lightly. "Just a very specific business proposal. Preferably with someone higher up than four errand boys playing mafia cosplay in a burned-out neighborhood."

Slick-hair stepped closer. "You think we’re just gonna let you walk in here, talk your talk, and strut out?"

Lux tilted his head slightly, like he was trying to calculate the exact wattage of their collective IQ.

"I was hoping for a handshake and a number exchange," he said. "But if you’d prefer a more... physical negotiation..."

The pacing one snapped his fingers. "Get him."

They moved.

Fast.

For humans.

One tried to swing a pipe. Another lunged low.

Lux didn’t blink.

His body flowed like water.