Chapter 13: Fire and ashes

The late afternoon sunlight slanted through the windows, casting warm stripes across the living room. For once, Derek allowed himself a moment of peace. His brother Noah lounged on the couch, idly scrolling on his phone, while their father leaned back in a chair, laughing at something Noah had said. Derek’s mom bustled about in the kitchen, carrying a grocery list.

“It’s nice to have everyone here,” Derek said, setting down his jacket. “Feels… normal.”

Noah smirked. “Normal? That’s a foreign concept for you, genius. You’ve been saving the world nonstop. Today, just chill, bro.”

Derek chuckled softly. “I’m trying.”

Their father shook his head, smiling. “You always were the responsible one, Derek. Even as a kid, you’d solve problems no one else could.”

Their mother peeked from the kitchen. “Derek, why don’t you pick up some groceries while the boys hang out? Just the basics.”

“Sure, Mom,” Derek replied, grabbing the keys she handed him.

Noah nudged him playfully. “Bring me some chocolate. I deserve it after dealing with your serious ‘world-saver’ vibes.”

Derek laughed, shaking his head. “Fine. Only the chocolate.”

Driving through the familiar streets, Derek felt the rare ease of normalcy. He thought about the laughter filling the house, the teasing, the warmth of family—things he rarely allowed himself to enjoy. For a few moments, the weight of everything he’d endured seemed lighter.

Returning home twenty minutes later, Derek felt something shift in the air. A faint acrid smell. The front door was slightly ajar. His heartbeat quickened.

“Mom?” he called cautiously. The house was silent. Too silent.

A low rumble rolled beneath his feet. The smell grew stronger. Smoke tickled his nose. Derek’s eyes narrowed as adrenaline surged. He ran inside, grocery bags clutched in his hands.

The kitchen was destroyed—cabinets splintered, shelves overturned. Flames licked the ceiling, smoke curling into the hallways. His chest tightened, a cold knot forming in his stomach.

“Noah! Mom! Dad!” he shouted, voice cracking.

No answer. Only the crackle of fire and the roar of collapsing beams.

“Stay calm,” he muttered to himself. “Focus. Scan. Move.”

He sprinted through the living room, dodging debris and falling glass. The fire spread fast, consuming everything in its path. Derek’s mother, father, and Noah—he searched frantically but saw only devastation. Blackened furniture, collapsing walls, and smoke so thick it stung his eyes.

A small beam fell near him, and he rolled aside just in time. “Think! Think!” he urged himself. “Where could they be?”

Through the chaos, Derek noticed a faint metallic glint near the basement stairs. Someone had planted something. This wasn’t an accident. His instincts screamed it. He crouched, examining the panel. It was tampered with—carefully, deliberately.

“This wasn’t random,” he muttered, jaw tight. “Someone wanted this.”

Suddenly, a secondary blast rocked the house. Derek was thrown across the room, landing hard on the tiles. Pain shot through his side, but he forced himself up. His family… they were gone.

Grief collided with rage. “No…” he whispered, voice low, trembling with fury. “Not them. Not my family.”

He sank briefly, chest heaving, tears and soot streaking his face. The heat of the fire pressed around him, but he ignored it. Pain sharpened his mind. Anger fueled him. He clenched his fists, eyes hardening.

“Not this time,” he said through gritted teeth. “This ends now. Whoever did this… they’ll pay.”

He scanned the wreckage, picking up pieces of evidence: scorched wiring, fragments of a detonator, signs of forced entry. Every detail told a story. Someone had orchestrated this, and they had left a trail.

A faint beep from his smartwatch alerted him. A message flashed across the screen:

"You’re alone now. Don’t expect backup. Play your cards carefully. – A Friend"

Derek’s lips pressed into a thin line. “A friend? Or someone trying to mock me?” he muttered. Either way, it was confirmation—this wasn’t random.

He moved quickly, exiting the house and surveying the street. Smoke billowed from the roof, drifting into the evening sky. Emergency sirens wailed in the distance, but Derek didn’t wait. He needed answers, not help. Not yet.

Minutes later, he crouched on a nearby rooftop, surveying the charred remains. Every thought, every instinct focused. “I will find who did this,” he whispered. “I will uncover every detail. And they will answer for it.”

His phone buzzed again. Another message, this one from a secure line:

"We’ve gathered surveillance. There’s a pattern. Begin cross-checking anomalies immediately."

Derek’s eyes narrowed. “Good. Let’s see who’s been clever enough to try and destroy my life.”

He replayed every detail in his mind—the explosion, the metallic panel, the timing. Every small clue was a piece of a larger puzzle. “They wanted fear. They wanted me paralyzed. But I won’t give it to them,” he muttered.

Hours passed. Derek worked methodically, sifting through data on his tablet, cross-referencing known associates of potential enemies, hacking into street cameras, traffic logs, even minor city sensors. Each byte of information brought him closer to the truth.

“You think you can scare me?” he said aloud to the empty street. “Do you have any idea who you’re dealing with?”

The night deepened. Rain began to fall again, soaking him as he crouched over a cluster of monitors in an abandoned warehouse, the flicker of screens reflecting in his eyes. Every name, every number, every movement traced a path straight to the orchestrator of the attack.

He paused, eyes catching a name repeated in multiple files. “Interesting,” he murmured. “Seems our little game has a director.”

He mapped the connections. The pieces fit together—financial ties, tech acquisitions, illegal imports. All fingers pointed to someone with resources and intelligence, someone who wanted him—Derek—broken.

His fists clenched. “You picked the wrong target,” he whispered. “You picked me.”

By the time dawn broke, Derek had a plan. Every possible escape route, every surveillance blind spot, every connection mapped. And he was ready to move.

He stood atop a rooftop overlooking the city, rain pouring down, mixing with soot and grime. The skyline blurred through the mist. His family was gone. His home destroyed. But Derek was still standing.

“This isn’t just revenge,” he said quietly, voice steady. “This is about justice. Truth. And you…” He clenched his fists tighter. “You’re going to see what happens when someone tries to destroy the Cold Genius.”

Thunder rumbled in the distance, matching the storm of his thoughts. Derek’s eyes glinted with determination. Every strike, every move, every calculation had led him here.

And the hunt had just begun.