Yuri is a young man, and as young men should, he works a job.

Jobs pay the rent, jobs pay for food, water, and other things you need to survive. But jobs do not pay for happiness.

“Fred.”

Yuri looked without any emotion at the strong man taking a cup from the water cooler. Frederick Ariola, a man full of compassion, a man so hard pressed to make a difference in this world.

A man who struggled to deal with his friend’s son every single day.

He stared off into space, perhaps hoping for Yuri to simply walk away. But he couldn’t, he knew he’d have to face him eventually. Even if it was in the middle of the night.

“Yuri, you needed me?” he softly said to Stocklord’s son with a smile across his face. His smile lessened when he realized Yuri was holding his katana in his shaking hand. The workers were used to him, but it still sowed unease.

“I heard you were up with dad the other day. Why?” he said with an accusatory tone.

“I wanted to visit him. It’s been forever, has it not?” Fred innocently recalled.

“He’s on the run again.”

“I heard, the government says he is missing. Does Bluejay think she can find him?”

“My girlfriend is dead!” Yuri shouted, his teeth barred. Multiple other overtime workers stared in shock at the sudden loud commotion.

Frederick sighed. He parched his lips together until there was only a single line where his mouth was. “I know. I’m sorry, Yuri.”

“And I know who killed her.” the young man growled, his black hair abating it’s form.

“Yuri. If this is something about vigilantism, we don’t discuss that here.”

“You are treating me like a child!” Yuri lashed back. “I’m above drinking age and you still act like I’m a toddler!”

“Then why do you still act that way? You know your father wouldn’t have wanted you to endanger yourself!” Fred replied aggressively. He wasn’t going to stand there and take it, even if he was a pacifist, arguing wasn’t past him.

“My father wanted to be a villain. It’s not a secret. He doesn’t want me to protect this world. And now he has killed my girlfriend! It’s about time I turned him in.”

Frederick stopped. He knew this fighting would bring nothing but stares and drama between them.

But Yuri was delusional, and he knew he couldn’t argue with someone like this. He could no longer reason with Yuri.

Stocklord would have wanted Frederick to continue, to keep Yuri safe. But after ten years of abuse from a rebellious child, he was tired.

“Fine. Leave. Never come back. You’ll never be safe again. People hate your father, and TUHF will be hunting you for answers, and asking if you are colluding. So go, Yuri. Leaving is suicide, but you can bring him in, kill him even, I don’t care what you want. You will die before you can touch him though. That is certain.”

“My life is going nowhere with you controlling it. I don’t even know if I’ll have a future. All you care about is your ambitions, and I’m just supposed to help you fulfill them. You said I have the most powerful superpowers you’ve ever seen, and I’ve trained for far too long. So I’m going to fucking kill some villains, and anyone that stands in the way of that murderous golden skeleton.”

Yuri spat onto the carpet, turned around to the elevator, and pressed the button.

Within seconds, he was gone, and while Fred thought him childish, and inadvertently suicidal, he did also understand that he’d made him this way, and that he’d been selfish too. He’d controlled Yuri long enough.

He was old enough, smart enough, powerful enough definitely. But still, he hoped he wouldn’t kill himself in a battle.

So that settled it, he ran to the elevator, trying to call it back, but it didn’t come.

He looked out the window, expecting to see Yuri leaving the building, but instead, something caught his eye.

A carrier helicopter was flying dangerously low through the city toward his building. It quickly turned and he was looking straight at a black clothed man wielding a bazooka.

“Everybody down!” he screamed, dropping to his knees. The window shattered, then another, and another. Three smoke canisters began to spray knockout gas into the room, creating a smokescreen across the hall.

Frederick got up, realizing the situation, he wrestled open the elevator doors with his strength and stared at the cable. The helicopter neared the building, men ready to jump in, Frederick made his move, down the cable like a firepole.

He descended six stories and landed on the elevator roof and kicked through the hatch, Yuri still inside.

“What the fuck, Fred!?” he exclaimed in anger.

“They are here for you Yuri! TUHF! Or whoever the hell they are, they want you. When we reach the bottom floor, have your blade ready. Kill whoever tries to stop you, you have done it before, you can do it again. I cannot fight them.”

“You’re shitting me.”

“They gassed the floor up there, you hear the helicopter?”

He listened close, the whir of propeller blades resounded from above…The shouts of men and women echoed through the elevator shaft.

Yuri steeled himself, his face wary, it held the fear he tried to swallow, but the fear was simply too much, he’d only killed a single villain, this was different.

Time seemed to slow, he remembered the woman, she was too weak to defend herself. He’d acted on it though, he saw it in her eyes, her bloodshot, crying eyes. She’d made orders that had killed thousands in the 2000 Brussels attack. She’d retired, but she also had caused the event that had murdered his uncle and nearly killed his father. He found her on the dark web, pieced it together. His father didn’t want him to do anything, and he’d only known his uncle for three years, and as a toddler, but he served justice on that woman regardless.

Only to find out she was innocent.

He made sure whoever he killed from then on was truly worthy of justice. He still hunted for the true killer, haunted by those dreams.

Yet every time, his hands shook. He couldn’t take another life.

The doors of the elevator opened, Yuri reflexively drew his blade, and yet, nobody attacked.

Only a handful of people were even in the lobby.

“We need to hurry. Follow me, down to the garage.” Fred hurriedly requested, grabbing Yuri by the arm and pulling him around the corner to the stairs. They’d be expecting the elevator by this point, and the stairs put them out on the opposite side of the wall as the elevator door. The only difficulty they’d encounter would be making it to Fred’s car and getting out of New York.

They jumped down the stairs, running as fast as they could. They bashed out the door and sprinted across the floor of the garage, the white Xado visible in the distance.

This was too easy…

“It’s a trap!” Fred shouted, backpedalling as he grabbed the door handle. Seconds later the car began to fill with a similar gas that was used on the building’s upper floors.

“They aren’t trying to kill me. They want to capture me.” Yuri grimaced, stepping away from the fumes emanating from the vehicle.

“Run, I hear cars coming.” demanded Fred, looking into Stocklord’s son’s eyes. The screech echoed the garage, the cars were driving far too fast for this small space, but they had good reason, and it was already running in the opposite direction, fast.

Fred only watched for a moment, swallowed his instincts to help Yuri, and darted back to the stairwell.

He was too late, as soon as he opened the door, five guards and a superhuman were waiting for him. The superhuman in question was squirrely, and rather awkwardly postured, hunched over like a gargoyle, and like a gargoyle, he was made of stone, like a statue. His limbs and every joint of his body were interconnected with a sort of black and white energy, allowing him to move like a normal human.

“Ariola. It is good we finally meet stone to flesh.” his mouth not moving as he spoke, projecting the puttery words without any expression beyond his swirling eyes, turning in their rocky sockets.

“Plato. TUHF got to you too...” Fred gulped.

“Find Obliterator. Bring him to me.” he ordered his men, who pushed Fredrick to the ground, or attempted to. His feet stood firmly planted in place, he was immovable.

“He won’t hurt you. In fact, I’m pretty sure Fredrick here was just about to tell me about that stupid child’s location.” Plato said, his guards moving out to find Yuri.

“He’s over twenty years old.” Fred said resentfully.

“And why doesn’t he act like it? Kids these days…” Plato scraped his chin with his hand before looking down at Fred. “Your eyes are beginning to close. The soothing sounds of soft jazz and rainfall is in your mind. My voice is something you really want to listen to.” he said softly, slowly, walking closer.

“No… no...” Frederick gasped, his body instinctively falling to the floor. One eye shut, then the other. Feeling and sensation began to fade, and the only sense left was the sound of Plato’s voice.

“When you open your eyes, you will see we are in a jazz bar, and I am offering you a chance to listen to me sing. The song will change you, make you rethink your thoughts. A poem of pure thought, the words mean so much. Feel your body getting lighter, airier. And just slide your eyes open.”

Frederick does as he is told, and the truth was around him. The garage was a thing of memory, but no matter how hard the little bit of him that was left fighting Plato’s control tried, it couldn’t remember anything at all. Not even his own name. This moment was so significant in its weight that all other thoughts were gone.

The bar’s soft lights shone down upon the stage and Plato was upon it, his face animated and body human, the softness of his flesh was eerily warbly in the swaying room.

The light is all on

Nothing to fight

The dark is all gone

Follow me into the night

The angels above

Compel you to come

This tune you shall hum

Until this task is all done

The lights began to dim, changing color slightly toward a red tone, and the bar began to fade away behind Fred as his focus was transfixed upon the stage.

The boy you protect

Made you feel inept

So now accept

This cause, it is correct

Yuri is yours

You must bring him back

The price of failure;

Death within the Black

The stage was crumbling now, everything was falling apart. Fred stared into the swirling white vortex around him, he couldn’t look away. It peered into him, it made him feel safe, and at that moment…

His resistance fully faded.

He felt concrete on his back as his eyes slid open. Three simple words slipped through his lips.

“I am submissive.”

Yuri ran, his feet dashing out into the night. He knew he had to find a way out of the city.

The bus, they wouldn’t expect it.

A white and bus was in his sights, stopped in late night traffic. The tourist crowds in New York were still strong even during February, and he mangled past them, most shocked to see the young man carrying a katana on his back running through the streets like a madman.

He didn’t care, he only wanted to get to the bus, and if they attempted to stop him, he’d draw his blade and threaten them. But, he knew, he could not bring himself to actually kill them.

He leaped up onto the front steps and banged at the door, which the driver begrudgingly opened, hoping this new passenger wasn’t a terrorist about to stab his other riders with the big sword on his back.

Yuri nodded and gave the driver a twenty dollar bill, shocking him and being completely understandable at the same time.

As the doors began to shut, however, someone shoved their hand in between the crack, stopping them from shutting. Yuri didn’t care who it was, he knew they were after him. And sure enough, a black knightly armored man stepped onto the bus. The driver opened the door for him.

“Thank you, sir. Let everyone off the bus, please.” he said politely, drawing a massive claymore from its waist sheath. “You have someone I must detain.”

“Alright.” the terrified driver nodded, opening all the doors on the bus in traffic. “Please exit the vehicle in an orderly fashion, Lucias Verdaleaf is here to capture a criminal.”

Some people left the bus, but not all, the others were whispering amongst each other, but they too got up and jumped off when they saw Lucias get into martial poise, his massive crimson feathered tassel signifying his authority in the Knights of York. While he wasn’t the leader, he was one of the greatest sword fighters in the order and the city.

Yuri didn’t take his chance to flee, however. He simply stared his opponent down.

“You could have run, Yuri Glord. What do you plan to do?” Lucias said with honor and class.

“I want to show the next thirty guys who chase me that I’ll mangle their bloody corpses like yours.” he said confidently, trying to stop his hands from shaking.

“Very well, prepare your steel. I have been sent by TUHF to arrest you, but I am allowed to use force, and if you perish, so be it.”

Yuri swiped the blade from his back, twirling around and attempting to look threatening, like he’d mastered this sword, like could kill him with a single slice.

“Only one of us is leaving this bus if I get my way.” he steeled himself.

“Enough talk! Fight me!” Lucias shouted, attempting to first strike, thrusting his sword forward. Yuri dodges around him, intent on hitting his back, he smashes his blade into the armor, sparks fly. He lands on a seat after the maneuver, Lucias sees a weak spot on the left side and quickly strikes.

Yuri is struck, losing his position and falling onto the floor with the blunt strike, only leaving a small gash. Lucias points his blade straight at Yuri’s chest and puts a foot upon his katana. A short skirmish, easily won.

“You have much to learn, Yuri.” he says through his helmet.

“You too.” Yuri grimmaces, his blade began to vibrate.

“Swordsmen always have more to- wait…” Lucias looked down just in time as the katana sliced straight up his leg, cutting it in two with a mind of its own.

“Aaaaaaaagh!” he screamed in agony, his blood cascading down his two halves of right leg. He hopped on one leg fruitlessly, hugging the stump of a limb he owned now, falling over eventually as Yuri came to his feet.

“Stop screaming.” Yuri demanded with some level of anxiety. It was a quick strike of his flying blade, slicing through Lucias’ neck, decapitating him. The crowd outside screamed as a stain of the knight’s blood spattered the window.

His head rolled around on the floor as Yuri exited the bus, his breath palpitating, his bloody blade an example for the crowds of horrified people who didn’t dare stop him.

All except one.

A man ran out of the crowd and leaped toward him, Yuri was still having a panic attack, and he was hardly ready. The moving punch slammed him into the bus, rocking it. Lucias’ head rolled out onto the street, but people didn’t notice that. They were terrifyingly transfixed at the big burly bald businessman who had Yuri in a headlock now. He heard the man humming to himself, a tune that was haunting, peaceful, and scarily out of place for the action he currently committed.

“Fred…” Yuri choked in confusion as his friend pulled harder, the young swordsman's face turning a violet shade.

“Yuri is mine, I must bring him back.” he muttered in his hypnotic trance as several armored SWAT units exited the crowd and aimed their guns at Yuri and Fred.

“Yuri Glord, you are under arrest by The Ultrahuman Force. Please do not resist or we will shoot!”