Mark watched from his sister’s office as she introduced herself to his new soon to be partner. She was young, probably early twenties and scrawny. Even so, she towered over the shorter Hanna, leaning more toward average height. He smirked to himself. Making fun of his sister’s height was a joy that would never get old.

Before giving him the address for his new place, Hanna had told him that his new partner was named Rylie Shaw. She had recently come across her powers and was marked by the Traitor soon after. She would be given a rough crash course on how they operated, which would give Mark some time to get his powers back.

He was taken aback by her at first. Most new recruits treated it with a mix of anxiety and awe. He was expecting some valley girl or mousy girl, dressed in an overdone business suit or a cardigan or something. It wouldn’t have been the first time. However, Rylie showed up wearing ripped jeans and a black concert tee supporting some band called Kids with Beards. She had a shit ton of earrings covering her left ear from top to bottom, and one in her eyebrow of the same side. He assumed the right ear was similarly decorated, but it was covered by a long swoop of dyed dark red hair which stood out against her olive skin, while the left side of her head was shaved down almost to her scalp, black stubble barely peeking through.

He was honestly impressed. He was a bundle of nerves when he was a rookie. Hell, Hanna was almost in tears during her intake. But Rylie stood listening with an easy smirk and a posture that absolutely screamed confidence. She was petite, but he had enough of his senses returned to know that she could handle herself if push came to shove.

He wasn’t ready to meet her yet though. Confidence or not, she was still new to the game, and he wasn’t fully ready to take a rookie’s life into his hands. Once Hanna took Rylie into another room, he slipped out of the building, stopping only to give Hugh a firm handshake. The ancient security guard greeted him warmly, and he stepped out into the Chicago air.

The noise and rush of the city surrounded him and consumed him immediately, and his heart stirred in his chest. As much as he was enjoying a quiet retirement in the country, the city would always run through his veins. He looked around for a familiar sight, and finally found Don’s Dogs on its normal corner. For the first time in five years, he bit into the best hot dog this side of Chicago, and a familiar comfort filled him.

He finally made it to the apartment building, getting a nervous glance from the front security desk as he coughed more black goop into a napkin, but quickly flashed his occupant badge and made his way to the elevator. He typically preferred lower-level apartments and obviously wouldn’t have said no to a penthouse suite, but Hanna only managed to snag him a place on floor twenty-six of thirty-five. He sighed and shook his head at the annoyance, spit up some more anti-life matter, and made his way to his room at the end of the hall.

Jay and Lily had swung by before they went on their missions, dropping off a few outfits, necessities, and some stuff of his that they had kept safe. They had left it by the front door, which opened into a living room, where Jay had set up a circle of candles for his ritual. He worked his way around the circle, checking out the small kitchen, the bathroom, and finally his bedroom. He was surprised to find that the bed was incredibly comfortable, and it took everything in him not to fall asleep. Something about dying just took all the energy from you.

He made his way back to the bathroom, taking a quick shower, and changing into a pair of sweatpants. Standing in front of a wall length mirror, he took himself in. He looked at the scar over his heart, a shattered circle with tiny veins spreading from it. He let the grief of his wife’s betrayal wash over him, then tried to shake it off. At least his scar was cooler than Jay’s, even though his old partner would still have the better story.

He made his way back to the living room, shutting off the lights of the apartment, before lighting the candles Jay had left there. Sitting down in the middle, he straightened his back and crossed his legs, closing his eyes. He breathed slowly into his nose, pushing out with his mouth. As he meditated, the fire he once felt roaring inside of him struck up small in his chest, a match in an otherwise empty cave. It slowly grew steadily, spreading warmth into his torso, before continuing into his limbs. He tasted metal in his mouth before long, tempting him to smile, but he brought focus back to his breathing.

The fire licked the walls of his soul, hardening and tempering his muscles. His skin grew tight and then solid. He let it take over his entire body before removing it and then focusing on smaller parts of himself. The fire finally raged within and the candles in the circle flickered out, ashamed of themselves versus the fire of the Traitor.

He stood up, walking back to the mirror. He mentally flexed and turned his left arm into a solid metal, then skipped it to his right. He moved the small plate of steel around to various parts of his body, before letting it spread across the entirety of his body. He smiled as the familiar shield greeted his mind like an old friend, welcoming him back.

Keeping his shield up, he summoned a sword into his right hand. It pulsed with an invisible magic that greeted his soul with excitement. The sword grew, causing him to grip it with both hands before transforming into an axe, a spear, then a sword again. He dispelled it, before walking over to a box he had initially left with Lily. He felt the old connection strengthen with its contents. He could sense the thick iron that filled the box in its entirety, and knew that even with her strength, she probably had to teleport it here. He focused on it in his mind, then stretched it vertically, causing the dense metal to escape from the box.

He turned it into a dark silver liquid, spreading it thin across the wood of his floor, then snapped it quickly into a solid ball. He stretched it vertically again until it formed a stool. After he sat down on it and almost fell, he extended part of it to form a back rest.

He continued finessing his armor to various parts of his body and let out a deep breath. It felt weird to feel excited about his powers again, but the familiar comfort was hard to ignore. It had only been five years ago that he had made his deal with Traitor and stepped away from this life. He had wanted out so badly that he was willing to abandon his friends and sister. And then all of a sudden, he was back. He made the deal, hoping for a lifetime, but was given half a decade, but that wasn’t his patron’s fault.

It was Evelyn’s.

He got up and began pacing, a habit he clearly hadn’t lost in death. He long ago dealt with Jay’s accident in Boston, and his fault in the whole situation. He had even forgiven Lily for why he wanted out in the first place. The three of them couldn’t control what had happened or what came next, even though he wasn't ready to grab a drink with them quite yet. But how could he forgive his wife, a person who never showed him anything but love and loyalty, lying in wait until the right price came along? Mark had been through hell with his partners, and those moments changed their whole being, but Evelyn was just biding her time. The dishonesty of it all was sickening.

He tried shaking the thought again. He had to get rid of or hide his baggage before going back to meeting his new partner. Bonding was important. They held each other’s lives in their hands. She wasn’t safe if he couldn’t focus ahead instead of being worried about the past. It was part of the reason he had left in the first place. As much as it wasn’t her fault, it was either him or Lily, and he couldn’t ask her to leave, no matter how much he hated her. So, he took one for the team. It wasn’t Lily’s fault. Not like Evelyn.

He solidified his armor to his fist and struck himself across the jaw. The anxiety began clearing, and he could feel the shattered jaw mending back into place. Once it was healed, he smirked. Looked like everything was back and in working order. He only had one thing left to check.

He lowered his shield and opened a window. He wasn’t worried about snipers this time. If he died again, he wouldn't be coming back. The deal was finished. And Strategy obviously wanted him alive for something. He fumbled with his new phone and shot off a quick text to Hanna, waiting. He focused out across the streets of Chicago, listening to the voices fill the air, the ambient noises that made up the city. Then he heard it. Just barely, but clear enough. He typed in the four-digit number into his phone and sent it to her. Almost immediately, he could hear her voice against the noise of the city.

“Welcome back, brother.”