Rupture

Diego didn’t falter. His arm glowed brighter, the pulsing lines alive with energy. In a flash, he surged forward, swift as lightning, his steps echoing like the roar of a storm sweeping through the narrow passage.

The assailant’s glowing weapon swung to intercept him, but Diego was already a blur of strength and precision, unstoppable. Leo barely registered what he saw. Diego seemed to vanish into the dimness, a predatory force, more beast than man.

The sharp sound of the collision echoed through the narrow passage, followed by a muffled scream. Leo staggered back, his heart hammering as Diego surged forward like an unstoppable force. He couldn’t decide which was more terrifying: the men stepping from the shadows or the raw, lethal fury Diego unleashed.

For a brief moment, the alley plunged into an almost surreal silence, broken only by the steady pulse of Diego’s arm. But the moment didn’t last.

The attackers, far from intimidated, assumed calculated stances. Their eyes scanned the environment like predators who knew their territory well, evaluating every detail. Their movements weren’t those of amateurs or men overtaken by fear. They were coordinated, and cold.

Then, with furrowed brows and clenched teeth, they prepared for their next attack. There would be no more hesitation. They would give it everything they had.

And they did. The man with the blade, more agile, slid forward to strike Diego. His blow came fast and precise, but it was parried at the last second, generating sparks that briefly illuminated the alley. At the same time, the second assailant seized his opportunity.

While Diego blocked the initial attack, the other man moved through the shadows with a stealthy stride, finding a dangerous opening. Ignoring Diego, he advanced toward Leo, pressed against the wall, watching everything unfold.

Leo’s eyes widened as he realized the movement, but his legs wouldn’t move. He could only watch as the man took his stance, raising the arm that held the pistol. Leo could see the dark barrel, which began to glow as it charged for the shot.

Leo shut his eyes, bracing for the impact that never came. Instead, a sharp crack echoed, followed by a strange, otherworldly hum. When he opened his eyes, Diego was in front of him, surrounded by a glowing, pulsing shield. The energized shot had dissolved harmlessly into the barrier. Diego stood firm, staring down the gunman with an almost unnerving calm.

He then advanced on the gunman with almost impossible speed, delivering an irrefutable blow.

The attacker with the blade, seizing Diego’s momentary distraction, turned toward Leo. The glint in his eyes carried a deadly promise, and his strikes came fast and precise, forcing Leo to stumble back and rely on sheer instinct to stay alive.

Unarmed, Leo felt the weight of his disadvantage, but adrenaline pushed him, forcing his muscles to react before his mind could process what was happening. He had no choice. It was act or die.

Moving purely on reflex, he narrowly avoided the slashes. His heart pounded as if it would explode, and each step felt guided by desperation. His agility was his only weapon, but there was hesitation in his movements—a nervousness that made him retreat, trying to stay out of the voracious blade's reach.

The man swung again, but Leo dodged at the last second, feeling the blade’s heat just inches from his body. He quickly stepped back, legs bent, ready for the next attack. But what he lacked in technique, he compensated for with speed and instinct. Leo knew where his enemy was, but his mind hadn’t yet found the calm needed for precision.

The attacker’s blade cut through the air again, and this time, Leo had no choice but to raise his arms in a desperate attempt to protect himself as he threw himself to the side. The slash grazed him. The effort to escape left his body trembling and nearly knocked him over.

Still, it was enough to destabilize the attacker. Taking advantage of the opening, Leo moved with a mix of luck and reflex, lunging to the side, grabbing the attacker’s wrist, and yanking him backward.

The blade slipped from the man’s hand, falling to the ground with a muffled clang. Trembling, Leo picked it up without hesitation. The handle was cold and heavy, unfamiliar in his sweaty grip.

Leo froze, his fingers tightening around the weapon. It felt foreign and heavy, a tool meant for destruction, not survival. His breath hitched, his mind screaming for another way—but there was no time. Driven by raw desperation, he lunged forward.

The blade found its mark with clumsy force, tearing through the man’s chest. A choked gasp escaped the attacker, and Leo felt the resistance give way. Something inside him shattered alongside the man’s life.

The blood on the ground glistened under the faint light, and Leo couldn’t look away. He stood frozen, his fingers still trembling, his breathing uneven, trying to comprehend what he had just done. There was no glory, no triumph. Only the brutal reality that he had killed a man.

Diego’s footsteps broke the silence behind him. His unlikely ally, having dealt with the gunman, now surveyed the scene with a detached calm, like someone long accustomed to such moments.

“You did what you had to do,” Diego said, his voice deep, devoid of emotion but also free of judgment.

Leo didn’t respond. He stared at his hands, still stained with the enemy’s blood, and felt something inside him shut down, like a locked door he couldn’t open.

The alley was silent, and Leo felt distant from everything, as though the weight of his actions had isolated him from his own body. What remained was only the echo of the fight, the sound of blood still dripping to the ground, and the sense that he had lost something of himself.

Diego crouched beside the fallen bodies, his movements sharp and methodical, as if searching for something specific. His hands moved with practiced speed, rifling through the attackers’ pockets until he froze. His fingers lingered on a scrap of fabric, its edges frayed but the symbol on it unmistakable: an inverted triangle encircled by a ring.

His face darkened, and his jaw tightened. “Damn it,” he muttered, his voice low and edged with frustration. “Why are they here?”

Leo watched Diego’s reaction with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. This was the man he’d been looking for, yet it seemed Diego had stumbled upon a revelation of his own. The tension in the air thickened.

“What does it mean?” Leo asked, his voice hesitant but insistent.

Diego didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, his frustration visible in the tightness of his movements. “It means you’re in deeper than you realize,” he finally said, his tone clipped. He shoved the fabric into his pocket and rose abruptly, scanning the alley.

“But who are they?” Leo pressed, stepping forward despite the unease twisting in his gut.

Diego’s eyes narrowed as he turned to face him. “Not here,” he said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “We’ve already made enough noise. More could show up any second.”

Leo hesitated but then nodded, still struggling to process what had just unfolded. His mind buzzed with unanswered questions, but something about Diego’s presence—his precision, his intensity—made him feel like this man was the only thread of understanding he had left.

“Let’s go,” Diego said, his gaze sweeping the alley one last time. “Stick close, and don’t slow me down.”

As Leo fell into step behind him, he clung to the hope that whatever Diego knew might finally shed light on the chaos that had consumed his life.