(Asia’s Point of View)

The road to PB wound deep through the woods — no signs, no light, just miles of black trees and the hum of engines under a darkening sky.

The GPS had died twenty minutes ago.

Kylee said that was normal.

“Signal never works this far out,” she explained, headlights cutting through the fog. “That’s how we like it.”

I didn’t ask what we meant.

By the time the trees opened, I understood.

The mansion looked like something pulled from a dream — or a warning.

Four stories of weathered stone and glass, wrapped in vines, standing in the middle of the forest like it had grown there before everything else.

Lightning flashed behind it, and for a second, the whole place glowed.

Lina’s jaw dropped. “This looks haunted.”

Jayla grinned. “Then it’s perfect.”

Kylee just smirked. “Welcome to PB — our private base.”

When we stepped inside, the air changed.

It was warmer than I expected — alive with the smell of cedar and smoke from the fireplace. The floors creaked like they remembered footsteps from decades ago. Every wall was lined with weapons, blueprints, and maps.

This wasn’t just a house.

It was a fortress built by kids who’d already seen too much.

⸻

We gathered in the main hall — an open space with high ceilings, a chandelier missing half its crystals, and couches arranged around a coffee table covered in notes, laptops, and half-eaten snacks.

Kelo was in the kitchen already, rummaging through cabinets like he owned the place.

Lina had collapsed onto the couch, scrolling her phone.

Jayla had set up a makeshift command center near the fireplace, wires and glowing screens everywhere.

It didn’t feel like a secret base.

It felt like home for the broken.

I dropped my bag near the stairs and took a seat by the window.

Rain started falling — soft at first, then steady, tapping against the glass like restless fingers.

“Alright,” Kylee said, walking in with her hair pulled back. “We’ll talk when Ja’kari gets here. Until then, everyone relax.”

Kelo peeked from the kitchen. “Relax? In a creepy-ass forest mansion? Girl, no.”

Lina laughed. “Says the guy who brought a sword to school once.”

“Hey,” he protested, “that was for training.”

Jayla didn’t even look up from her laptop. “Sure, Rambo.”

The laughter broke some of the tension. For a while, it felt… normal.

But every time someone mentioned Ja’kari’s name, Kylee’s face shifted — a mix of pride and fear she didn’t bother hiding.

I noticed.

I noticed everything when it came to him.

⸻

When dinner rolled around, the group sat at a long wooden table that looked like it belonged in a castle. Kelo was telling a story about one of his football games, Jayla was arguing about physics with him mid-bite, and Lina was sketching again — faces, maybe memories.

But my mind wasn’t on any of it.

It was on Ja’kari.

The memory of him walking off that basketball court — calm, quiet, unreadable — hadn’t left me.

There was something about the way he moved, like he was always calculating, always one step ahead of a danger no one else could see.

And that calm?

It wasn’t confidence.

It was survival.

Kylee caught me staring off into space. “You thinking about my brother?”

The words hit like a dart.

Everyone looked at me.

I tried to play it off. “Just curious. You said he’d be here soon.”

“Yeah,” she said slowly, watching me too closely. “He will.”

The way she said it — quiet, measured — told me there was a lot she wasn’t saying.

So when everyone drifted off to different corners of the mansion — Jayla back to her tech, Kelo and Lina on the porch, rain pouring down around them — I found Kylee in the library.

The room smelled like old books and smoke.

She sat in a chair near the fire, staring into it like she could see something inside the flames.

“Can I ask you something?” I said.

She looked up, cautious. “About what?”

“Your brother.”

Her posture changed instantly — spine straight, eyes sharpening like she was stepping onto a battlefield.

“What about him?”

I hesitated. “I just… I want to understand him. You all talk about him like he’s dangerous, but nobody says why.”

Kylee stared into the fire for a long time before speaking.

“Because he is.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected.

I waited. She didn’t look at me when she continued.

“You ever met someone who carries hell inside them? Not metaphorically — literally. Pain that doesn’t go away, no matter what they do?”

Her voice softened, almost like she was telling herself the story more than me.

“When Ja’kari was in Japan, he fell in love. Her name was Star.”

The fire crackled louder, like it wanted to listen too.

“She was everything he wasn’t. Wild, loud, bright. The kind of girl who could make him laugh when he swore he never would again.”

Kylee smiled faintly, but it faded quick.

“They met in training. Used to sneak out together, talk about leaving one day. I think she made him believe there was still something good left in the world.”

She paused. Her eyes glistened in the firelight.

“Then the Masters accused her of betrayal. Said she helped him escape a mission that went wrong. They made him watch while they executed her.”

The air left the room.

The fire popped, and I flinched.

Kylee’s voice broke a little. “They burned her alive while he was chained to the floor.”

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

“He didn’t scream,” Kylee said softly. “Didn’t cry. Just watched. When it was over, he didn’t speak for two days. Then… the first mark appeared.”

I frowned. “The mark?”

She nodded. “The curse that gives him power — born from trauma. Every time he survives something that should’ve killed him, another mark forms. And every mark makes him stronger. But colder.”

I whispered, “So every fight…”

“…he’s reliving that moment,” Kylee finished. “Every sound, every scream.”

For a while, the only sound was the rain.

Jayla appeared in the doorway, quiet. Lina followed her, both holding mugs of tea like they’d heard enough to regret coming in.

Lina’s voice was soft. “He saw her die… and he just—”

“Buried it,” Kylee said. “All of it. That’s why he doesn’t let anyone close. Because the last time he did, it got her killed.”

My chest ached.

Not from sadness, but from understanding.

Because now I knew why he looked at me the way he did — like he was afraid of déjà vu.

When the door finally opened, thunder cracked outside — loud, rolling, almost theatrical.

He stepped in, soaked from head to toe, hoodie clinging to his shoulders, water dripping from his hair. His eyes flicked across the room, scanning everyone — and then found me.

For a split second, it felt like the storm stopped just to watch him.

“Bout time, man!” Kelo called from the kitchen, laughing. “We were about to start without you.”

Ja’kari smirked. “You couldn’t handle it without me.”

His voice was deep, calm, smooth enough to command silence without trying.

He moved through the room, shaking hands, bumping shoulders, like someone used to being half in — half out — of every crowd.

When he reached me, his gaze softened just slightly.

“You still quiet,” he said, teasing, low enough that only I could hear.

I met his eyes. “Still observing.”

He smiled — a small, dangerous kind of smile. “That’s worse.”

Kelo shouted from across the room, “Yo, Asia, careful! That’s how it starts!”

Laughter broke through the tension. Even Ja’kari chuckled under his breath.

It was strange — hearing him laugh. It didn’t sound like it belonged to someone who’d seen the things he had.

He sat down across from me, stretching his arms on the back of the couch.

For the first time since I met him, he looked almost normal — like a regular guy just hanging with friends.

“So,” he asked, leaning forward, “you gonna tell me what brought you here? Or you one of those mysterious types too?”

“Maybe both,” I said, matching his tone.

He grinned. “Dangerous combination.”

Kylee rolled her eyes from the corner. “And here we go.”

But I couldn’t look away. His eyes held something magnetic — deep, quiet, but pulling. Every time he leaned in, I felt the air around us shift just slightly, like the world was leaning with him.

For a while, it was easy.

The rain became background noise, their laughter filled the mansion, and for once, Ja’kari looked like he belonged.

But then —

the thunder hit harder.

A flash of lightning poured through the window, lighting his face in a sudden burst of white.

And something changed.

⸻

His breath hitched.

His body tensed — not like pain, but like memory.

His eyes flicked to the fireplace, to the flames.

And then they went empty.

Kylee noticed first. “…Ja’kari?”

He didn’t answer.

The room fell quiet — no laughter, no noise, just the heavy sound of the storm and the faint crackle of fire.

Then his hand gripped the edge of the couch — hard enough to crack the wood.

“Ja’kari—” I started, but his head dropped, and a low growl escaped his throat.

And suddenly—

“GET OFF YOUR ASS AND FIGHT BACK!”

The voice wasn’t in the room. It was in his head.

Sharp. Brutal. Merciless.

His eyes rolled back.

I saw it happen — like a movie playing behind his eyelids.

He was nine years old again.

Mud on his face. Blood dripping from his nose.

Four grown men circling him like wolves, their boots kicking up the dirt.

A man stood behind them, face hidden under a hood, voice cold and calm.

“Now fight.”

And when they charged—

the boy blinked.

The world went silent.

His fear evaporated.

And something else took over.

Twenty seconds of chaos.

Punches. Cracks. Screams swallowed by rain.

Then — silence.

Four bodies dropped in the mud, lifeless.

The hooded man stepped forward, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Good, son. Very good.”

⸻

The flashback shattered.

Ja’kari’s body convulsed, breath ragged, eyes flickering open — glowing black around the edges. A dark, burning mark crawled across his left eye, pulsing like it was alive.

“Holy sh—” Kelo stepped back. “Kylee!”

“Move!” she yelled.

The mark spread down his neck, his pulse slamming like a drum. His eyes — pitch black now — darted around the room as if he didn’t recognize any of us.

“Ja’kari!” I shouted, but his voice came out as a growl, words breaking in static.

“Stay back!” Kylee barked. “He’s triggering!”

The lights flickered. The air felt charged, heavy, wrong.

The entire mansion seemed to tremble with him.

He stood, fists clenched, chest heaving — and for a split second, it wasn’t him standing there. It was something else wearing his face.

Lina was shaking. Jayla backed toward the wall, whispering, “Oh my God—”

“Kylee!” Kelo yelled again. “Do something!”

She was already moving. Fast. Too fast.

From her belt, she pulled a small syringe — metal gleaming under the lightning.

She lunged forward, ducking under Ja’kari’s arm just as he swung — the sound slicing through the air — and drove the needle hard into his neck.

“Breathe,” she whispered, holding him tight. “Breathe, J.”

His body jerked once. Twice.

Then silence.

The black in his eyes faded.

The mark stopped glowing.

He collapsed into her arms, unconscious, rain still pounding against the windows outside.

Nobody spoke for what felt like a full minute.

Kelo exhaled, running a hand down his face. “What the hell was that?”

Kylee laid him down gently on the couch, her hands shaking.

“That,” she said quietly, eyes fixed on her brother, “was his past trying to kill him.”

And as the thunder rolled again, I realized she wasn’t being poetic.

She meant it.

Literally.