Sprinting down the evening streets, he feared the worst had already come.

It had been many years since Aldous had been called to action, yet the familiar cries of his younger sibling clouded his senses. He checked every turn and alley he came across, desperate to find lola before it was too late.

Upon turning the corner to a dimly lit alley, the silhouette of his beloved little sister in the arms of a tall, menacing figure caught his attention.

Standing high above her like a mighty oak, the man's arms wrapped around her body, pinning her arms to her sides in a violent grip as he thrashed her around.

He growled like a rabid beast as she struggled to break away. When his patience grew thin, he suddenly whipped his arms outward, slinging her against a wall like a ragdoll. Her head slammed against the brick building with a sickening thud.

Everything was happening so fast. Was she still conscious? He couldn't tell. But Aldous could tell the man wasn't done with her yet.

Horror took hold of his heart as history repeated itself before his very eyes. A brief flashback played in his mind, igniting a fierce passion to protect her.

He had never felt such an odd combination of empowerment and dread before. He knew what was about to happen; but what frightened him the most was that the outcome of this encounter would be out of his control.

As the stranger closed in, the sound of three, eerie whistle notes pried his attention away for just a moment.

The assailant locked eyes with Aldous, his short, brown spiky hair remaining stiff despite the gentle wind.

"What? You just gonna stand there, or are you gonna do something, ya little runt?" the aggressor exclaimed, attempting to provoke a response.

Unswayed by these taunts, Aldous clenched his fists and stared the man down with a fierce glare, the fire in his ember eyes reflecting his passion.

Seeing that Aldous wasn't going to make a move the assailant brushed him off and went after the girl again.

But just as his fist was about to connect, Aldous locked his arm into place with a firm grip. The thug had only a split second to meet his gaze before receiving a mighty blow to the face.

The man cried out in pain as he staggered backward. His nose had been shattered from the punch and was bleeding profusely now.

"What the hell is wrong with you!?" the man called out in an angry voice. "You little brat! When I get my hands on-"

His threat would never escape his lips as Aldous dealt another swift blow to the face, forcing him back again.

Many thoughts raced through his mind as he pressed the attack, but one dominated all the others: this man had to be broken before he could cause any more harm to his sister.

With a black eye as big as an orange, the man looked at Aldous with a blend of fear and anger and decided to retreat into the darkness.

But Aldous wouldn't give him that satisfaction. He yanked on the collar of his shirt, causing him to choke, and delivered a powerful blow to the stomach, toppling him over. Then, without relenting, he grabbed the man by the shoulders while he was down and kneed him in the chest, knocking the wind out of him, followed by a second similar blow to the chest.

The thug didn't even have time to process the pain before both of Aldous's fists came crashing down on his back, sending him to the ground gasping for breath.

He kicked the man several times while he was down, not giving him a chance to stand up and recover. But as he did this, he felt the urge to yell at himself to stop. Yet no words escaped his mouth.

Aldous turned the man over to look him in the eye one last time. The man's handlebar mustache was smeared with his own blood, and his face was almost unrecognizable from the swelling. The man looked no different from Lola by comparison.

He looked up at Aldous without so much as raising an arm in defense, terrified of what he might do next.

Aldous wanted to recoil after seeing the damage he had caused. Yet he stood still, towering over the bloodied man, contemplating what to do next.

He looked down at the man with a blank gaze before grabbing the man by the collar, pulling him up and forcing him to meet his gaze, and said the following:

"See me, and I will harm. Speak, and I will break. Touch, and I will kill..." he said with a clenched fist.

The man nodded his head vigorously, wanting to escape his wrath. A wish that would be granted as soon as Aldous released his grip, watching him fall to the ground. He stared as the thug scampered away like a scared cat disappearing into the night.

With the threat now gone, Aldous took back control of himself and took a moment to process what had just happened. His heart grew heavy with dread and regret as he realized what had just gone down.

"He's back... I can't believe it..." he murmured to himself. He hadn't felt that kind of empowerment and bloodlust in seven years. He remembered all too well the damage he had caused back then by losing control and knew that he would have to deal with that old demon soon.

But these concerns would have to wait for another day. There were more urgent matters to deal with first. Lola had endured a lot and was now wedged in the corner between the dumpster and the wall, lying limp and unconscious.

"Lola!" he cried out, rushing to her side. He knelt down to her level and grabbed her by the hand. "Lola, can you hear me? Are you-" He stopped himself when he discovered that the girl he had saved was not his sister at all.

The girl's hair was brown and matted, not blonde and flowing. Her nose was small and button-like, unlike Lola's, which stood out like a sore thumb. And her body structure was too narrow and slender to be his sister.

"How the...? She sounded just like her..." he thought. "Am I going crazy now?"

Taking a step back, he could feel his hands shaking as he reprocessed what had just transpired. Had he done good by saving her, or had he done wrong by mistaking her for someone else and bludgeoning an unarmed man in the process?

After dwelling on the subject, a proverb popped into his head-a proverb that would eliminate all confusion.

"You can't undo what's done, but you can act in the here and now."

He looked down at the girl and understood what he had to do.

Taking his phone out of his pocket, he turned on the flashlight to get a better look at her condition. Her body was bombarded with scrapes, bruises, and minor cuts, and her clothes were old and tattered.

Upon closer inspection, he realized that she wasn't wearing real clothes at all. Rather, she was dressed in an outfit consisting of scrap rags stitched together to cover the entirety of her body, like some kind of self-assembled, old-fashioned medieval commoner's tunic.

"What in the name of-" he mumbled to himself, analyzing her outfit to conjure up an explanation. "Is she homeless?"

He tapped her on the shoulder, trying to wake her up and get some answers.

"Hello? Kid? Can you hear me?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. But she was out cold.

"That's not a good sign..." he mumbled to himself. His first instinct was to call the police and have them take her.

But as he thought about it, he realized that they might question him as a witness, and then he would have to explain what he did to that other man. If they found out about that, he might be seen as just as much a villain as that thug was. And that was a battle he wasn't willing to start.

"Oh wait, maybe she has her parents' contacts on her phone. Surely they will know what to do," he thought.

He examined her outfit, looking for her phone, but quickly realized that she didn't have pockets big enough to hold such a device. Nor did she have anything else to carry one with.

"No phone? Nuts. What about ID? There's got to be something here I can use." He mumbled, searching her further for anything he could use to identify her. But his efforts were fruitless.

"No ID, eh?" He thought, stroking his chin. "Well then, looks like I'm gonna have to do this myself."

He first thought about taking her to the hospital to get her checked out. But without an ID, they would have no way of getting her insurance info, assuming she even had any. Likewise, he couldn't afford to pay off someone else's medical bills at this moment. And given the damage done to her, who knows how much that would rack up?

That said, if he couldn't provide insurance or pay on her behalf, the next best thing would be to take her to his place on the outskirts of town, patch her up himself, and get her back on her feet.

With his mind made up, he bent over to pick her up. To his surprise, she was a lot lighter than she looked, which is saying a lot because she already appeared light as a leaf.

Within ten minutes, he arrived at his apartment on the second floor. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the keys and, without setting her down, awkwardly maneuvered his body to reach the lock and get inside.

Once inside, he laid her down on the couch and shook his arms around to get his blood circulation going again. Upon seeing her under better lighting, her condition looked worse than before.

Her skin was visibly dirty, exposing her cuts to who knows how many possible infections. (Though none of them were infected yet.)

"Alright, first things first: medical treatment." He snapped his fingers and turned on the hallway lights, grabbing the first aid kit from the top shelf of the closet and setting everything up on the nearby couch stand.

He grabbed a clean piece of cloth, dabbed it with disinfectant solution, and gently applied it to the first small cut on her left cheek.

In response to the sudden stinging sensation, the girl jolted awake and looked at him with big, blue eyes. He pulled the rag away from her face out of reflex when he saw her wake suddenly.

In a frenzied panic, she tried to push herself away from him, only to end up pressing herself deeper against the back of the couch.

"Hey, hey! Take it easy!" he exclaimed, trying to sound as gentle as possible in the heat of the moment, though it didn't come across that way. When the girl realized she was cornering herself, she spoke up in a high-pitched, squeaky voice.

"Where am I? Please don't hurt me!" she cried as if her life were about to end.

"Hey, it's okay, kid. I'm not gonna hurt you, alright?" he explained, with his hands out in front of him trying to calm her down. She felt the wound on her cheek and winced at the stinging feeling.

"What did you do to me?" she asked with a squeak.

"Nothing, nothing, I didn't do anything to you. I'm just trying to help you, okay?" he repeated.

Despite his attempts at expressing his goodwill, she seemed reluctant, even defiant to let him help her, as if she were expecting him to harm her again. She curled herself up into a ball, tucking her head into her knees trying to block out the world around her.

Seeing her tremble tempted him to reach out and comfort her, though rationality prevented him from doing so. Given her circumstances, physical touch wouldn't be the wisest choice.

He could only imagine what this girl must have endured to think that his act of kindness was some kind of trick to get to her. But he wasn't going to give up so easily.

"Look, I don't know what you think I'm gonna do to you, but I promise I'm not going to hurt you." He said, locking eyes with her. He could see the fear on her face as she peeked her head up from her knees.

"I don't even know who you are..." she squeaked, placing her face between her knees again.

"Oh, I almost forgot. My name is Aldous. But you can call me Al for short." He said, taking on a warmer tone of voice. "Can I get your name?"

The girl looked down at herself, feeling hesitant to tell him. But the warmth of his voice sounded so open and nurturing to her that it made her feel like she could at least trust him with that much.

"Krystal..." she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Krystal... That's a pretty name." He said, nodding to himself. "Alright, Krystal, here's the deal: I'm gonna clean these cuts for you before they get infected, if you're willing to let me, okay?" She tensed up again and hugged herself tighter at the thought of letting him near her.

"I know it's going to sting a little. But if we leave them as they are, they will get infected, and then they will only hurt even more," he explained, maintaining his gentle tone.

She looked at herself again, thinking about what he said, unsure whether she could honestly trust him or not. Whether she trusted him or not, his explanation was correct. Her injuries would be worse off should she refuse treatment.

"You can trust me, Krystal. I'm not going to hurt you... intentionally, I mean." He extended his hand with the rag out to her.

Although hesitant, she slowly uncurled herself and leaned forward, allowing him to do his work. He dabbed the cloth again and gently pressed the disinfectant on her cheek once more.

It only took a couple of minutes to clean her open wounds and get them covered. But for her, the time passed like the blink of an eye.

"There we go, all done. See? That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked, placing the last Band-Aid on her arm. She felt the Band-Aids on her body and wasn't sure what to think of his generosity.

It had been far too long since anyone had shown her kindness like this (without demanding something in return, that is). So long, in fact, that she felt like her brain was scrambling itself while she processed everything, staring off at the other end of the room like a zombie.

After putting the first aid kit back in the closet, he looked back to see her frozen in place as if she had seen a ghost or something.

"Hey, you okay?" he asked, noticing her vegetable-like state. She couldn't pull herself to look him in the eye, but she shook her head in response.

Now he felt bad for her, and it resonated with the look of sympathy on his face. Had his kindness spooked her that much? Or maybe there was something else she was struggling with?

"I know just what you need," he declared with a snap of his fingers. He walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out a container of leftover stew.

She looked over and watched in awe as the food began warming up in the microwave. She felt her concerns melt away, with hunger and curiosity taking their place as she leaned forward to see the gadget glowing inside.

"This is a special family recipe, you know. This stuff is packed to the brim with valuable nutrients. I've seen this stuff work wonders for people like you, just you wait," he explained while keeping his attention on the microwave.

She nodded her head, acknowledging his speech. But her attention was fixed on the food and the machine.

When it was done heating, it steamed up like a cloud, making him wave it out of his face.

"Woops, a bit too long," he said to himself, glancing away for a moment. He opened a nearby drawer and grabbed a pot holder to hold the hot dish so he could pour some of the stew into a serving bowl.

"Oh, just a second, I'll be right back. I got an idea," he said with another snap of his fingers before taking off for the hallway.

She watched him go before looking back at the stew, her hunger nagging her to go for it. Yet she stayed put, as she was too tired and weak from fatigue to do much such a thing.

Upon his return, he carried a large blanket and wrapped it around her back. Its density and fuzzy surface provided a feeling of warmth and comfort for the first time in a long time. She closed her eyes and nuzzled herself into the fabric, savoring the sensation.

He then handed her the stew with a pot holder underneath so she wouldn't burn herself.

"Be careful; it's still hot," he warned.

"Thank you..." she whispered softly before taking her first bite.

While she ate, Aldous found himself uncontrollably forcing his head away from her as he spoke to himself.

"We must talk, right now," he whispered in an urgent tone.

"Hm? Did you say something?" she asked, looking up from her dish. Aldous knew what was about to happen and didn't want to frighten her with his secret.

"Uhh, nothing... I'll be right back, Krystal. There's something I need to do real quick. Just stay put," he said. She nodded and went back to eating.

He stepped outside into the darkness of the evening street, standing alone out of range from the streetlight that stood in the middle of the parking lot when he heard the sound of whistling again. The same three eerie notes that he himself had whistled not long ago.

"Well? Aren't you gonna say anything?" his alter inquired with a sly, almost eccentric tone. Aldous tried not to show his nerves, but he knew he couldn't hide it well.

"I thought you were gone..." he replied as if he had seen a ghost. "Why are you back?"

"That's the beauty of it, my boy; I never left." His alter answered. "If memory serves, our deal is still in place. And I intend to uphold my end."

Aldous couldn't believe what he was hearing. Seeing his old alter again after seven years was like seeing a childhood demon resurfacing. Only this time he didn't know what to do about it.

"Come now, boy. You need not fear me. After all, was I not always on your side?" his alter asked, sounding scratchy. Aldous knew he had to hold his ground or risk being swept away again, so he regained his composure before continuing.

"You pulverized that man for me, didn't you? And you saved Krystal, and you brought her here?"

"Why must you resort to accusations with no ground?" His alter asked. "Just observe the context, boy. You know you would never harm another man, even if you wanted to. So yes, I did fight that neanderthal on your behalf, as was agreed to."

"But the girl..."

"A mere miscalculation. You and I are both guilty of mistaking her identity," his alter replied with his hands behind his back. "However, I know you are a man of sympathy and relativity, whereas I consider myself to be enlightened from the veils of emotions. So answer me this: why did YOU choose to take her in?"

Aldous froze for a moment, realizing he was right. His alter would never go out of his way to help someone in need if it didn't benefit himself. Aldous chose to take her in on his own.

"She needed help..." Aldous argued, feeling like his mind was being probed. "Whether it was Lola or not, I couldn't just leave her out there like that. What kind of person would I be if I left her there?"

"You tread a fine line by taking her under your roof, Aldous Benjamin Calihan. I advise you not to allow your emotions to cloud your senses so easily," the alter warned.

"What do you mean by that, Richard?" Aldous asked, attempting to sound braver than he was.

"Richard? Is that what you're calling me now? Whatever happened to that other name you had for me? You know, the newer one?"

"You prefer to be called Beta again?" Aldous asked, raising an eyebrow at the remark.

"Indeed. And before you say anything, I am aware of the name's origins and of your feeble attempt to humiliate me for my status within our little system. However, I choose to see it as a badge of power and a force of motivation." Aldous couldn't help but roll his eyes at the ego he was displaying.

"Alright then, 'Beta.' Why did you come back?"

"Did I not already provide an answer? Or perhaps I should jog your memory of our arrangement," Beta explained. "And I quote; you would only have permission of free action when either I or my family is in immediate danger."

"But there's no one here to cause harm right now. So why are you here?" Aldous asked, raising an eyebrow, feeling a little braver now.

"Oh, but there IS danger, boy. For you see, while you believe our deal was subject to physical threats alone, I, on the other hand, know better and see an even greater threat within your midst: emotional danger."

"You're talking nonsense," Aldous replied. "You can't tell me that Krystal is going to cause a problem for us. And what do you mean emotional danger?"

"Tell me, what will go through her mind now that you are her savior?"

Aldous thought for a moment before answering. "She will see me as a hero?"

"Correct. And what do people do with those who become heroes?"

"They... grow attached to them?"

"Right again. And that, my old friend, is exactly the dilemma set before us."

"I think you're overthinking things again, aren't you?" Aldous asked with a look of criticism. "How exactly do her feelings affect my safety?"

"It is not her emotions per se that are the problem, but how her emotions will influence yours," Beta answered. "You see, emotion is a weakness, my boy. A soft spot that can bring even the mightiest of men to their knees," Beta explained in a scratchy but confident voice.

"No, emotion is what makes us human; it's what separates me from people like you," Aldous argued.

"You consider yourself to be a man of reason, do you not? Surely you would know that acting on feeling alone is a recipe for self-destruction," Beta replied, sounding more confident.

"Yes, it would. So good thing I don't do it." Aldous protested. "You're just using her as an excuse to take control again."

"Am I now?" Beta snapped all of a sudden before regaining his composure. "Tell me, do you still remember what happened with your... father?"

Aldous found himself thrown off at the sudden jab.

"How can I forget?" Aldous replied with a tremor in his voice as he began recalling the painful memories of his father.

"You loved him, did you not? And look what happened to you in return: betrayal, pain, suffering; why, if it wasn't for me, you would have ended up just like your brother."

"Stop it. Just stop talking..." Aldous demanded, with a crack in his voice as the memories started to get to him.

"This is the pain emotion brings, my boy. This is the fate I heed you to avoid. You know you were always the more pliable one of the two of us. You're too easily caught up in your emotions to see the larger picture, and that is your biggest problem." Beta explained. "You are the one in charge here; so I expect you to be strong enough to know what's best for you and for both yourself and I... Or..."

"Or what?" Aldous said, a sense of concern creeping in.

"Or you can always take the easy way out. It will be just like old times?" Beta said, giving a sly smile. Aldous's eyes widened when he realized what Beta was suggesting.

"Absolutely not," Aldous said coldly.

"You know you won't last long without me, boy," Beta remarked. "I alone made you strong before, and I alone can make you strong again. You need only say four little words-"

"Look, I know you want to take the lead again, but I'm not letting you take that spot for any reason whatsoever."

"I said no!" Aldous bellowed suddenly. "I know you want to take the lead again, but I'm not letting you take that spot for any reason whatsoever. So just keep quiet and drop it already!"

A moment of silence followed his outburst. Beta wasn't expecting something like that from him, nor was he shaken in the slightest as he maintained his figure throughout.

"Very well. Perhaps I came around too soon. I will take my leave now," Beta replied, breaking the silence. "But remember this: despite what you think of me, I am a man of my word. And I will not yield until this threat is subdued. I will be watching both you and the girl closely. And you can expect to see me again very soon..."

As Beta vanished, the sound of his eerie whistle echoed in Aldous's mind. He stood there listening to the whistle for a while, contemplating what had just happened.

Upon re-entering the room, he looked down at Krystal, who was now sound asleep. She nuzzled herself into the blanket with a peaceful look on her face as she slept. Her snoring was like that of a kitten, complementing her younger appearance.

Although adorable, seeing her rest so peacefully made him realize he might have made a mistake letting her in. On the one hand, Beta was back and couldn't be trusted. As long as he was around, he couldn't ensure her safety.

But on the other hand, he couldn't just kick her out to protect her from Beta. She needed time to recover from her trauma and abuse. So what was he to do?

"Wait a minute. Beta would never show himself to her out of the blue." He thought. "He's just a memory to everyone else who knows about him. He wouldn't expose himself so soon. Would he?"