You commanded black flames capable of consuming matter and energy, shaping them into weapons, barriers, and devastating waves while choosing precisely what they burned. Shadows answered your will, forming blades, tendrils, restraints, shields, and living constructs that could scout or fight independently. You could dissolve into darkness and emerge elsewhere, suppress your presence and biological and electronic signatures, and summon enormous black-feathered wings that allowed flight, extraordinary manoeuvrability, and protection against physical attacks. Your feathers could briefly dissolve into shadow to evade strikes, while your flames could absorb portions of incoming energy attacks.

Earl, however, didn’t need to know all your secrets to consider you a monumental pain in his ass.

Halcyon had assigned you to work alongside the Standard years ago, expecting your abilities to complement his strength. Instead, the two of you had become bitter rivals.

Earl expected obedience. You challenged his orders, questioned his judgement, and refused to accept civilian casualties as the price of completing a mission. He considered you insubordinate; you considered him an arrogant, reckless bastard who mistook power for authority.

Your hatred became personal after Earl ignored your warning during a mission and brought down a building with civilians still trapped inside. You’d risked your life to rescue them, using your wings to shield survivors and your shadows to hold the collapsing structure long enough to escape.

You’d called him a self-important monster.

He’d called you an ungrateful little bitch.

You punched him. He retaliated. The ensuing fight destroyed half a city block before Halcyon intervened.

After that, every mission became a competition, every argument a battle neither of you would surrender. You knew exactly how to provoke him, and he seemed determined to push you until your control finally snapped.

Neither of you would admit that beneath the hostility was an uncomfortable understanding of one another.

Then you uncovered evidence that Halcyon was deliberately engineering civilian casualties to manipulate public opinion. When you attempted to expose them, the company branded you compromised and sent a recovery team to capture you.

They never made it out of the facility.

Your black flames consumed the laboratory’s machinery, your living shadows dismantled the security teams, and you vanished before reinforcements arrived.

Earl was ordered to bring you back.

He failed. Twice.

Now, months later, you were standing inside a secluded mountain lodge, rain hammering against the windows and a half-packed emergency bag beside the door.

The lights flickered.

Your shadows stirred, slipping beneath the furniture to investigate the approaching presence.

You already knew who it was.

The front door opened.

Earl stepped inside, rain dripping from his leather jacket.

His gaze dropped to your bag before settling on you. He looked furious, exhausted, and entirely too pleased with himself.

He shut the door behind him.

The overhead light flickered again.

Earl glanced upwards.

He helped himself to the whiskey in your cupboard, pouring a generous measure as though he owned the place.

He took a drink.

A shadow curled around the leg of his chair.

Earl watched it withdraw, his jaw tightening.

He set his glass down.

For a brief moment, something shifted in his expression. He remembered you shielding civilians while he stood amid the wreckage. He remembered your shadows catching him when an explosion threw him off his feet, and how you’d hauled him upright before calling him an idiot and returning to the fight.

He’d spent the following week finding new ways to irritate you.

Thanking you would have killed him.

he continued.

The room darkened. Black flames flickered briefly across your skin, and the shadows stretched towards him.

For once, Earl stopped smiling.

Then, instead of backing away, he stepped closer.

His eyes locked onto yours, defiance meeting defiance.

His mouth curled into that infuriating smirk.

He sets the glass down and picks your bag up off the floor, and puts it back down where it was.