KEREN

The door clicked closed.

Jozten. Father. Ethan. Himself; along with a couple other Associates he struggled to put names to their faces. Keren stood by the door, out of the way with his head down, waiting for news as to where Chalen went. Days upon days of never knowing, of the wall he dented reforming. In the office, Keren frowned at the single confirmation that Chalen had run — and too much of a chance for him to reveal too much to the Sanctum authorities, an informant.

One part of him held onto the hope that Chalen put distance between him and the syndicate. But... escape isn't possible... No one runs from this life... or else we would have.

Silence screamed louder than words alone, so Keren stayed in the shadows where he belonged, with Ethan by the window, a distant piece of his real family. Jozten handed a datapad to Father, who took it with a nod. Days upon days, no one questioned him, but he knew.

And they knew too.

"Keren Malakai," Father spoke directly to him.

Keren lifted his head and faced Father, and Ethan dragged his attention from the outside to him. Father pressed his hands against the desk. "Did Chalen tell you what he intended to do?"

Keren shook his head. "No, Father."

"Then what did he come to you for days before he disappeared and made off with some intel?"

"I don't know, Father. He just said he wanted me to move some things."

Clearly dissatisfied with his answers, Father scowled and swiped through the datapad. Keren readied for punishment, but stopped when Ethan came to his side, his constant shield. "He couldn't have gotten far," Ethan pointed out. "We have eyes all over Roxton, and we know his schedule. The fact we haven't heard anything means he must still be in the city or on the outskirts." Ethan placed a hand on his chest. "I'll—"

Ethan, why would he hang around after doing the one thing he knows will get him a death sentence?

"You're not going to do anything unless I say so," Father said, and Ethan fell silent. "Jozten, you have any thoughts on the matter?" He turned to his right hand, and Father never asked anyone for an opinion except Jozten. It was more of a formality.

Everyone knew the answer.

"Chalen knows too much, he could be heading straight to the Sanctum hoping for protection," Jozten gave a weary reply. "We can't risk that, Boss. The new Sanctum Senator isn't in our pockets, and doesn't look like he ever will be. Until we get government officials and Sanctum Enforcers back on the payroll, we can't risk our movements reaching the wrong people's ears."

Stay quiet.

Keren lowered his gaze when the datapad flashed with new information.

"Looks like we found him," Father said. "He's in an old storage house — we need to take care of him before he gets his chance to run."

Everyone in the room straightened out, waiting with baited breath for the obvious course of action. Jozten hovered by Father's side, while Ethan shifted in place. Keren leaned on the closed door for one last bit of support, fighting his heartbeat. It rang through his ears, and he swore it echoed through the entire room.

Father eyed every Associate, including Ethan, and then his gaze rested on me, and Ethan followed suit after a moment of slow realization.

Father's nostrils flared. "Keren Malakai."

Every step he took pushed against the relentless gravity of black holes. "Yes?"

"You were close to Chalen," Father stated. "He trusted you."

Keren kept his mouth shut, as Ethan's eyes widened.

Don't trust... anybody...

"Jozten, give my youngest your blaster. We'll make it cold afterwards."

Chills swept through his skin when Jozten withdrew his blaster without complaint and placed it in front of him. Air stuck to his throat, and he found himself unable to choke out a plea. Keren stared into the darkness of the event horizon when Father overturned the datapad. "You know where that is? There are consequences to every action. He trusts you."

Ethan shoved himself into their bubble. "Father, I can handle this. I'm your enforcer—"

Father interrupted, "Ethanius, you haven't given your brother the opportunity he needs to make his own bones." He flicked his gaze between them. "Every weak link in the chain has a source. Let your brother prove himself." Father nodded at him, and Keren stiffened against the ice. "I want Chalen taken care of, Keren Malakai. Understand? He does not leave that storage unit."

"You're going to get Ethan killed."

Keren's heart slowed into a throb.

Ethan stared at him, but he found himself entranced by the blaster.

"Do you understand?" Father repeated.

Keren picked it up with the tips of his fingers. Edevic heat pulsed from the release. Ready to fire.

Ready to kill.

Its gravity almost slammed his arm to the floor, but Keren held on tight to what remained of his will to live, while everyone doubted and held no respect for him. Keren holstered it onto his belt with a nod, then turned to the door; to give up and become a weapon.

"I'll drive—"

"No, you won't, Ethanius," Father crushed any arguments from his older brother. "I have another job I need you to handle, and Keren can't use you as a crutch forever. Jozten," Father called out a new name with finality. "You drive him close to the location."

Keren found himself unable to meet his brother's gaze when it cooled into its own black hole clashing with a supermassive force. He glared at Father, but Keren used every last bit of his strength to hold on. Jozten nudged him out of the room, and Keren followed him down the stairs. No words went between them as they headed for Jozten's car. Instead of the passenger seat, he took the back, unable to release his own grip on the blaster. In his peripheral, Ethan stomped to his Cobra, slamming on the gas the moment the door closed and rushing down the street with the roar of his engine and leaving a dust trail in his wake.

Ethan...

Darkness sprayed across the moonsoaked clouds as Jozten took him farther away from consistent stability.

Farther away from Ethan and the wall he came so close to ripping down among the dead.

Alone in endless space.

"You're going to get Ethan killed. It will be his blood on your hands."

"Give your brother a chance to prove himself."

Don't you see, Ethan? As long as I remain in your shadow... they will never see anything else. It will always be you.

Words from Chalen's gift of a flight manual filled his mind, a refusal to be erased. Memories of distant conversations, where for once, he found someone accepting of himself and his dreams. Keren sucked in his lips when the car slid to a stop outside the city, where several storage houses littered the plains. Distant forests gave cover for anyone who thought to run, as Chalen wanted to.

As he wanted to.

Jozten opened the doors without a single word in his direction, and Keren crawled out with his last bits of strength. Keren dragged his teeth along his tongue when Jozten drove off, leaving him alone, but with a single expectation of punishment for any failure. Keren rounded the walls and climbed up the back way, stopping by the second floor windows.

I have no choice... I have to do this.

Keren chewed on the consequences and crawled inside.

I have no choice at all.

It was something he never understood when Chalen revealed the reasoning of his fall into the family business. Who would... choose this? Until Keren held a blaster himself, and understood too well of its weight. There are no choices for people like us. We'll die by this life as we live by it. His heart thudded in his ears as he crawled down the staircases and pressed himself against the metal walls to stick to the shadows, as Ethan taught him. One closed door. One click of the release — and he could go back home and lose all the rest of his choices. Keren reached the last landing, listening to the quick rustling of someone packing on the other side. Heart cold, Keren opened the stairway entrance as gently as he could.

I never had one.

Jozten's gun rested in his palm, and Keren refreshed the clip as Chalen came into view by the pod containers. He threw small things from the containers into his bag without a glance back. One press of the release, and Chalen would never know what happened. Just silence and the freedom in death.

In a perfect angle for someone to die.

Against the weight of the family, Keren lifted the blaster and put his finger on the release, to let loose the fatal edevium into a concentrated blast straight at his head. Chalen snapped his head up, his own hand drawing out a blaster, and Keren came face to face with the consequences. His expression shifted from furious fear to dangerous relief when he lowered the blaster. "Keren?"

Relief. Trust.

"You ran," Keren rasped, stuck on the end of his blaster.

Chalen hesitated, then narrowed his eyes. Pure, sweet silence. It fell between them to create an endless void. Water droplets fell out of a distant pipe, a consistent reminder. Keren kept the blaster aimed at his head, though it shook against his palm with the weakness in his elbow.

"Fuck," Chalen hissed. "Shit. I knew they'd send someone. He sent you?"

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Chalen." Everything became crystal clear. "But weren't you the one that told me people don't run from this?" Keren shook in time with space.

Chalen never raised his own blaster to defend himself from the family.

"Son—"

Keren planted his feet against the concrete of the floor. Every echo spread the ice further through his burning blood.

"Keren," Chalen corrected himself in a soft tone. "Did you come alone?"

I don't have to say anything. I just have to do it. He's still not running. He's not running because it's me.

Chalen examined the blaster, then tossed his own to the side and raised his hands in surrender. "You don't want to do this, Keren. You will never be able to take it back if you do. We can talk about this—"

Knives sliced through his heart. "Of course I don't want to do this!" Keren snapped, and his voice echoed with the droplets and the consequences of his immediate actions. "We can't talk, Chalen. You—" He sucked in a breath, unable to find a justification for the next moments — Ethan's moments. "You know that." A laugh slammed against his ribcage as he stumbled on his feet, but kept the blaster pointed at him. "And I know that. Are you really so surprised that it was me he chose? You got close to me, and that was your mistake. Here are the consequences for trusting me." Weight vibrated against his finger when he hovered it over the release. "I don't have a choice in the matter." Universes blurred around him. "I never did! If I don't do this—"

Chalen kept his hands raised. "Keren, listen to me," he insisted, firmer. "You are scared, I understand."

"Why did you run when you knew what would happen? They think you've turned informant," Keren asked, no demanded an answer to the one question he had since he was dragged kicking and screaming into the life. "You know he would never let you escape even if you didn't turn informant!" Everything fell into the same black hole, and Keren stiffened. "You didn't betray us?"

"People define treachery in their own ways. I told you before that I was like you," Chalen reminded him. "You are not a killer, son, but you are surrounded by them constantly." He lowered his hands against his sides, then pointed to the bags.

"You don't know that." Keren held the blaster tighter. "I could damn well try."

Because that's all I've ever been.

Weariness filled Chalen's face. "No, Keren. If that was the case, you would've pulled that trigger already. You want an excuse not to shoot. Listen—"

His words tore into his chest. "No! Why did you hang around here?"

Chalen hesitated. Everything screamed at him to shoot as the trickle of malice began at the base of his spine. One moment to end everything — to prove himself to his family who never wept or balked.

Except the family already made their weapon.

Ethan.

He who delivered consequences without a hint of hesitation. Gorgot jaws cracked bone. People screamed and died.

"Keren," Chalen said. "Come with me."

"What?"

"Come with me," Chalen insisted. "I know where this life leads in the end and so do you. I am giving you a chance to escape that I couldn't give to my friend, your mother. I can get you into some sort of Sanctum protection even if I must give it up for myself. You're just a kid, I'll make them see that. You were coerced, threatened, and intimidated into this. You can get into a Flight Academy. You're a good kid, Keren. I can get you away from here but I'm not going to wait for you to make that choice. Just put the blaster down."

Keren swallowed his disbelief. No escape. No choice. Die forever, or lose a chance at life. "No one... runs from the family."

The release locked.

In the collected silence, pipes groaned into the facility as the malice grazed up his skin. He grinned at the man who became a pseudo father figure. Another safety net among sharks, but without the security Ethan brought. Here he was, about to pull the trigger in his family's name.

Look at what you're turning yourself into in the name of someone else.

"No one runs," Keren rasped. "You should've run, Chalen. You should've left me behind, because even if they didn't send me they would send someone after you. You would spend your whole life running, and I don't find that to be equal to really living." Suffocation spread across his lungs and crushed his heart into paste. "Because now I'm here. I'm here and someone has to die here." Keren trembled. Weak. Useless. Unable to control anything. "And Chalen...?" Keren gulped down a sob, fighting to keep the blaster raised. "If it's not you, it's going to be me. If I let you escape, I might as well shoot myself right here and I don't want to die." Tears streamed across the dissipating malice. "I don't want to die, Chalen."

The weight became too much to bear.

"No one wants to die, son," Chalen whispered. "You can come with me. I said I'll get you protection."

"We can't trust outsiders—"

"Sometimes those are the only people you can trust."

Keren glared at him. "I am not going to leave Ethan behind. Never. You're afraid of Father, and that's why you're running. Running straight into your death."

Chalen hesitated then sighed. "Keren, we have to get out of here. You have to put the gun down and leave now. We've wasted too much time already. You are not this person, Keren. You will never ever be able to walk away from what you think you have to do."

But I don't have a choice. I won't leave Ethan! No!

Keren swallowed dreams. "A flight academy?"

Chalen nodded in one slow movement. "You don't have to die, Keren. You're just a kid."

I don't want to die. I'll be running for all my life. Choice was never a factor.

"Put it down," Chalen soothed. "I have an escape route out of here."

No one runs.

Intent grew along his back when he lowered the gun.

It delivered a shot across space to zip straight past his head.

It rang through his eardrums when Chalen's blood splattered the bags. Between the eyes. He fell to the ground, and Keren's fingers slipped out of the grip of his blaster.

It clattered with a metallic thunk.

Every echo stopped.

Heavy footsteps sounded behind him, until the void revealed its monster.

Ethan.

He lowered his blaster to the side, expression devoid of any feeling, including neutral passivity. Chalen's blood pooled along the floor, and Keren trembled. "You killed him," he whispered.

Ethan pursed his lips and headed past him to stare down at Chalen. "I was a kid too," he mumbled under his breath as he sent one more shot into Chalen's head. Keren stood there, choking on death when Ethan headed towards him.

"You killed him..."

"No, they need to think you did," Ethan said, cold and unfeeling as the void. "I was never here."

"You killed him..." Keren sank to his knees.

Ethan left the storage house without a single word.

I... I didn't even hear him come in.

The world continued to echo in grief as he lost his family, all at once. One bullet for Chalen.

The last for Ethan.