Chapter 92 Line in the Dark

October 23, 2025. Thursday. 7:02 a.m.

I sat on the ledge of a diner, my helmet at my side, and a greasy plastic bag in my hand. Steam curled from the burgers inside, heavy with the scent of char and cheap seasoning. I unwrapped one, the bun warm, soft, and soaked with grease. First bite melted on my tongue, the salt and fat cutting through the hunger like fire through paper. Best meal I’d had in weeks. Nothing fancy. It was just beef, a bit of cheese, and a tang of sauce, but it tasted incredible.

Behind me, my bike idled, chrome and black, engine humming like a beast waiting to run. Bunnyblade had a new addition now: a speaker strapped near the dash. His voice crackled through it, a distortion of static and personality.

“Isn’t this too risky, loitering around towns like this?” Bunnyblade asked, the rumble of the engine underscoring his words.

I chewed, swallowed, and waved him off with the burger still in hand. “We’ll be fine.”

Silver sat to my right, dangling her legs from the ledge, dark hair catching the dim morning light. “He’s got a point, you know,” she said softly, her gaze drifting toward the street, always alert.

Onyx, on the other side, had her own kind of breakfast, imaginary, of course. She licked her fingers, savoring grease that wasn’t there, grinning like a wolf. “But damn, these burgers are good,” she teased. “We should come back here more often.”

The speaker buzzed again. “Are they here?” Bunnyblade asked, almost hesitant.

I nodded, another bite filling my mouth before I answered, “Yep.”

I chewed and thought about how strange it was, having Bunnyblade in my corner. At first, I couldn’t even process the idea of George, dead and reborn into a machine. Yet here we were, sitting together like old friends. I’d ended up telling him about Silver and Onyx, the hallucinations stitched into my life. I expected mockery, doubt, maybe even fear. Instead, his take was flat, almost careless.

“Considering superpowers, maybe they’re real,” he’d said back then, as if it didn’t matter either way. “Sometimes, powers can be really crazy… I mean, look at me.”

“It’s not every day we stumble on a 24/7 burger joint, you know?” I said between bites, grease dripping down my fingers. “This town has it good. We’ll just need to be careful not to be seen by the sheriff or their local cape.”

The neon sign flickered over my head, buzzing like an insect, while I perched on the diner’s ledge. I’d come here planning to use the payphone, dial a certain number I’d been holding onto. But the glow of the burger joint caught me, pulled me in like gravity. Better to make dangerous decisions with a satisfied stomach than an empty one.

Bunnyblade’s voice crackled from the speaker near the handlebars, static riding on his words. “What do your girlfriends think?”

Silver chimed immediately, sitting cross-legged to my right, eyes bright as she leaned toward the bike. “Yeah, tell him, Bunny!”

Onyx was less interested in the discussion, leaning back with one hand pressed against her full lips, chewing something only she could taste. “Nah,” she said with a grin. “This burger is too good.”

I lifted the half-eaten one in my hand and agreed, “I agree.” The wrapper crinkled as I unwrapped my second burger, hunger gnawing and satisfied all at once.

Bunnyblade didn’t let up. “I mean… what do they think of you joining the Ten?”

I chewed, swallowed, and sighed. “I’ll think about it once I’ve got my fill.”

Silver shot upright, silver hair shimmering faintly under the streetlight. “Oh, no. You are not joining the Ten! They sound like bad news, Nick.”

Onyx smirked, licking her fingers clean of invisible grease. “Please, don’t be such a bore. You’re always saying Nick needs more friends. And who knows? He might get his romantic groove back if he met someone he vibes with—”

Silver’s glare could’ve frozen steel. “Why do you keep trying to ship Nick with someone else, huh? The ideal ending is simple. This blows over, he goes back to Markend, and he hits it off with Nicole.”

Onyx burst into laughter, tossing her head back. “That’s awkward as hell. I refuse it! She’s got Nick’s mom’s name. Won’t that be weird?”

“It’s just a name, stupid!” Silver shot back, face flushed.

Onyx popped into existence right beside her, sudden and mischievous, pressing a hot burger against Silver’s lips. Silver panicked, muffled protests spilling out as she struggled, but the moment she got a taste, her expression shifted. She froze, wide-eyed, then swallowed and slumped, cheeks glowing pink.

“…It’s really good,” she muttered.

Onyx grinned, triumphant, grease-stained wrapper still in her hand. “I know, right?”

“You know, Bunny…” I muttered, staring at the half-wrapped burger in my hand. “You’re not beholden to me. You’re free to go wherever you want.”

I took another bite, chewed slowly, eyes drifting over the dusty street.

With Bunnyblade’s power cell, his tech for invisibility and teleportation, he’d have a decent chance in the lawless towns. He had no stomach to fill, no soft flesh to wound. With little needs, it was even possible for him to thrive. Hell, he could strike a deal with the SRC using his old connections and maybe even register as a proper cape with the government, considering his clean record. He could become a superhero. A real one.

Bunnyblade’s voice fizzed out of the speaker, steady but quiet. “Do you know why I choose to stick with you?”

I shook my head, licking grease from my thumb. “You owe Mom nothing—”

“It’s because I owe my life to you,” Bunnyblade cut in, no static this time, just clarity. “If it weren’t for you, I would have given up back then. I would have died with remorse, never getting the chance to pull… But I did. And that’s because of you.”

I paused mid-bite, watching my reflection in the bike’s polished chrome.

“So,” Bunnyblade continued, “if you’re thinking of joining the Ten, then I will have your back.”

The bag of burgers crinkled as I reached for another. “You’re ridiculous,” I murmured, but the corner of my mouth twitched despite myself.

By now, I was on my third burger, and Silver and Onyx sat on either side of me like mismatched shadows. They were quiet, chewing on their share of imaginary burgers. Whatever I ate, they ate too, mirrors of my own hunger. Silver’s legs dangled over the edge of the ledge; Onyx leaned against the diner’s chipped paint, her hair falling over one eye. Neither spoke.

I took another bite, tried to swallow around the tightness in my chest.

Then Bunnyblade’s voice flickered again, soft but clear. “Belated happy birthday, Nick.”

I froze, the bun halfway to my mouth.

“I… I’m sorry I don’t have a gift for you,” he added.

“No need,” I said flatly, swallowing the last bite of my third burger. The grease still clung to my fingers, grounding me better than his words ever could.

“Well, better late than never, right?” Bunnyblade’s speaker crackled as he shifted his tone into something lighter, almost playful. “Nicholas Caldwell. Born March 20, 2006. Son to Nicole—”

“Stop.” My voice cut through the air sharper than I meant it to.

Onyx blinked into existence beside Bunny, her frown etched into her forehead. “What the fuck?” she hissed, narrowing her eyes at the bike like it had sprouted fangs.

Silver was pouting hard enough to look like a kicked puppy. “He knows your birthday, and we don’t!?”

I rubbed my forehead, feeling the sting in my side where the Sword-Meister fan had cut me days ago. “I didn’t really have time to celebrate my birthday with all the chaos that was happening around me. Not like I’m a fan of birthdays anyway.”

Silver leaned forward, lips pursed, giving me her best glare. “That’s not the point!”

“I appreciate the gesture,” I muttered, staring at the burger wrapper twisting in my hands, “but I don’t really think much about it.”

“Apologies,” Bunnyblade said simply, voice quieter now.

The truth was simple. I hated birthday celebrations. Because I didn’t have any, if I did, I couldn’t remember them. Mom had been strict to the point of cruelty, especially in the last five years before she kicked the bucket. No cakes. No gifts. No candles. Just long silences and colder dinners. She didn’t even pretend. After a while, I stopped pretending to.

“That’s exactly why you should celebrate them,” Silver whispered, her voice soft as lace. “If you didn’t have them before, then you should have them now.”

Onyx crossed her arms, eyes narrowing, but her tone less sharp than usual. “Yeah… I hate to admit it, but I agree with her. You should. You’re not that kid anymore. You’ve earned a day that’s yours.”

Silver added self-righteously. “A growing boy needs his birthday parties, damn it!”

“I guessed… belated happy birthday to me,” I muttered, raising the half-eaten fourth burger like a champagne glass. Silver mirrored me on my right, grinning as she clinked her imaginary burger against mine. Onyx did the same, chewing hers exaggeratedly with her usual smugness. I turned to the bike. “Thanks, Bunny… Next time, we’ll have cake.”

Silver gasped, eyes wide with delight. “Oooh… birthday parties! I can’t wait!”

Onyx gave her a dry look. “We don’t have one, Silver. We used to be slaves, remember?”

Bunnyblade remarked. “You do know I am a bike, right?”

“We’ll find a way,” I finished my fourth burger, and I was still feeling hungry. “Bunny, when’s your birthday? I’ll take note. Guess we gotta celebrate when we can, right?”

The bike’s speaker crackled with static, his voice sliding through. “I am a Januarian. I’m gonna tell you when it comes… It’s gonna be a surprise blow-out party.”

Silver pouted immediately, crossing her arms with a dramatic little huff. “No fair. I didn’t get a birthday.”

I gave her a sideways look. “Then let’s have today as your birthday.”

Her pout cracked into a stubborn tantrum. “Yes! Today’s mine! I won’t have it any other way!” She stomped her foot on the ledge like a kid throwing a fit. “I get to make wishes and stuff!”

Onyx rolled her eyes and leaned back, unimpressed. “Wouldn’t it make more sense to have our birthdays be when he found us?”

Silver shot her a fiery glare. “Nope! It’s now! Today’s mine!” She hugged her imaginary burger like it was a cake. “I’m making a wish!”

Onyx crossed her arms, leaning against the diner’s rooftop ledge, her expression flat. “I guess I don’t mind when my birthday is or anything.”

Silver, however, had no intention of being subtle. She wrapped me in a half-hug, pressing her cheek against my shoulder with a little too much enthusiasm. Her grin was radiant as she declared, “This is my wish—… you are gonna live your best lives! You’ll be rich, famous, and get to make a lot of babies—”

Onyx cut in with a sly smirk. “With a lot of chicks.”

Silver shot upright, glaring at her. “Hey, it’s my wish!”

Onyx flicked her forehead. “We’re the same person, dummy.”

Silver puffed out her cheeks in protest, looking like she might combust from indignation. “Doesn’t matter! This is still my birthday wish!”

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to hold it together. The effort lasted all of two seconds before the laughter cracked out of me, sharp and uncontrollable. I laughed until my ribs hurt, until the taste of burger threatened to choke me.

“Thank you,” I said at last, wiping at my eyes as I caught my breath. “Both of you.”

I jumped down from the diner ledge, the cold air snapping at my bare forearms. The payphone box leaned like a confession booth at the corner. I rolled the coins between my fingers, thumbed the receiver, and dialed the number Mrs. Mind had given me: 10–10–10–10–10.

It rang twice. On the third ring, a voice answered, slick and amused, like a man reading a menu. “Yeah?” he said. “Who is this?”

“Eclipse,” I told him. Short. No pleasantries. That name tasted like rust in my mouth, but it was the call they expected.

There was more shuffling, and then the voice changed into something colder, flatter, and threaded with patience. “Mr. Caldwell? Or would you prefer Eclipse?” The voice belonged to none other than Mrs. Mind.

“Nick is fine with me,” I said. My fingers tightened around the receiver. “I’ve made a decision.”

“Do tell,” she said. There was a smile in it I couldn’t see.

I told her what I’d decided: I’d join. The road had been long and the SRC’s shadow longer. If there was a shelter to be had, it would be with the Ten. They had resources, reach, and teeth. I needed teeth.

She asked why the sudden change. I imagined her weighing me from my value and my risk, like a jeweler turning a stone to find flaws. I said bluntly that I needed protection and leverage, and that power wore thin when you were hunted.

She was quiet for a breath. Then, politely: “We welcome potent additions.”

I laid down one condition. It came out cold and precise, because I'd had time to think it through while eating my burgers. “I join on one non-negotiable term: nobody in your group compels my will. No telepathic leash, no forced obedience, no backdoor into me. If I find anyone in your ranks trying to take my mind or make me do what I will not do—” I let the threat hang. “I will kill them. Including you.”

There was a slight catch in her syllables, the tiniest crack. She didn’t laugh. She didn’t scoff. “A firm term,” she said. “Unexpected, but not unreasonable for someone of your… reputation.”

I could hear her measure the cost of that term. The Ten were built on obedience and contracts; psychic binding was one of their currencies. For me to make that currency untouchable was asking for trust in a place where trust was a commodity.

“Will you be able to enforce that?” she asked, as if she might be the one to worry about enforcement.

“I’ll enforce it myself,” I said. “If someone tries, they die. If you try… same result.”

Her voice softened into a tone that might be danger dressed as approval. “I am pleased by your candor. We will extend an offer formally. Stay where you are. We will fetch you.”

“Don’t make me wait too long,” I said.

She promised nothing and everything in reply. “We’ll be discreet. Stay put, Mr. Caldwell.”