Prologue

Rain poured down in sheets, plastering Derek’s leather jacket to his skin. The city below was slick with water, neon signs reflecting in puddles like fractured jewels. He sprinted across the rooftops, Patagiums fully extended, each leap precise. Somewhere below, a group of thugs thought they could outrun him. They were wrong.

“Split up!” one of them shouted, his voice cracking against the storm. “Don’t let him get all of us!”

Derek’s eyes scanned the alleyways. Two thugs darted between buildings, one sliding through a narrow gap beneath a fire escape. Derek leapt, launching himself with Patagiums. Midair, he twisted, catching the man’s collar before he could disappear. “Going somewhere?” Derek asked, landing silently behind him.

“Let me go!” the thug coughed, scraping hands against the wet concrete. Derek didn’t respond. He shoved the man forward, forcing him to stumble into the street below. The thug’s partner tried a sneak attack from above, dropping a pipe, but Derek ducked instinctively, letting the pipe clatter harmlessly into a dumpster. “Timing is everything,” he muttered, sprinting after the others.

Another thug vaulted a fence, thinking the rain would hide him. Derek anticipated it, catching him mid-leap, sending him crashing into a stack of crates. The man groaned, trying to scramble free. “You’re faster than I thought,” he wheezed.

“I’ve been practicing,” Derek replied, smirking. “You should try it sometime.”

Two remaining thugs ran toward a narrow alley. One tripped over a puddle, skidding into a wall. “He’s everywhere!” the other cried, panic rising in his voice. Derek landed behind him, boots splashing through the ankle-deep water. “Not everywhere,” he said calmly, “just where you shouldn’t be.”

Derek used the environment to his advantage. A loose rooftop railing became a springboard for a leap; a stack of abandoned crates served as a trap. He tackled one thug into a wet tarpaulin, sending him sliding across the rooftop and over the edge. The thug yelped, landing in a dumpster below. Derek jumped after the last one, who tried desperately to scale a fire escape.

“You won’t escape,” Derek growled. He lunged, catching the man’s ankle and pulling him down. The thug hit the rooftop hard, groaning. Derek leaned close, voice low, controlled. “Next time you think about hurting people in this city… remember tonight.”

The rain continued to hammer the streets, turning puddles into mirrors reflecting neon signs, the chaos, and the defeated thugs sprawled across alleys and rooftops. Derek’s Patagiums snapped back into place as he surveyed the scene. The remaining criminals had scurried off, nursing bruises and soaked egos.

He crouched, catching his breath, listening. The city was alive—the distant wail of sirens, the faint hum of streetlights, the pounding rain. Every sense alert. Every movement calculated. His mind replayed the fight, analyzing each thug’s mistake, each one’s hesitation. Derek was methodical, unstoppable.

For a moment, the storm seemed to pause, rain dripping from his spiked hair, and Derek allowed himself a small smirk. He had tracked them down, neutralized the threat, and left the streets a little safer tonight. But he didn’t relax. There were always more thugs. Always more chaos. And he would be there, hunting them in the shadows, moving across the rooftops, silent, vigilant, ready.

Tonight was just another beginning