Thomas Finn was young again. He was sitting at a table across from his mother and father, eating dinner they had spent the evening preparing for him. Thomas hadn’t actually eaten turkey in a long, long time. And now he was relishing it while sitting across from his mother and father. His father, Franklin, was tall like Thomas was, but strong and muscular. He was a police officer, and he was wearing his uniform at dinner.

Thomas hated cops. He had to for work. But a part of him wondered if some of that hate came from hating his father. He was a decent man, but he wasn’t decent for long enough. This is the last memory Thomas had before he left them for reasons he would never understand. But this wasn’t about him. His mother, however, shone brightly. Her name was appropriately Goldie. She exuded a natural charisma that made her a perfect star of the silver screen. She was beautiful and graceful . . . like a swan. Thomas knew where he got it from.

They were eating together. Thomas had a spoonful of mashed potatoes covered in salt and butter and then chowed down on a piece of turkey. It was too expensive nowadays.

“How was your day at school, Son?” Goldie asked, meeting Thomas’s pale face with a pair of brilliant eyes. Her voice was calm and comforting.

“Good, Mommy. Can I have more potatoes?” Thomas asked. He was cute then. He must’ve been only five or six.

“Of course, my little munchkin!” she said, pinching his cheek. Suddenly, her brilliant blonde hair shone gold as it bent and changed form, before grabbing a container of mashed potatoes from a nearby countertop.

* * *

Thomas was cornered. It had been about ten years ago, and what he saw in his memories was a burning warehouse located just outside of Neonight City. It was hidden among the rocks, which meant there was no calling for help. The warehouse was made of drywall and wood, highly flammable materials that Thomas had set ablaze when he was still working as a vigilante as a way to fight the gang problem in Neonight. And now the gang problem was about to fight him. He was trapped against one of the corners, the only one not burning away. In front of him, he saw six silhouettes backlit by burning drug equipment and flaming debris. Six members of the Krokodil Crime Family. In the front were the three Krokodil sisters, arranged from oldest to youngest, left to right. The muscle of their operation, powerful Civ users with manic personalities and an unbreakable bond. Beside them was their brother, whose role in the operation wasn’t entirely clear to Thomas.

User: The Oldest Krokodil

Civ: Breaking Point

Abilities Unknown.

User: The Middle Krokodil

Civ: Wirebaby

Abilities Unknown.

User: The Youngest Krokodil

Civ: Of Sorrow

Abilities Unknown.

And behind them, two huge men towered over Thomas as the six approached him. He was cowering in the corner, out of options as the building burned. One of them was their father. Thomas remembered him as Cyrille Krokodil. Thomas didn’t know the other one. Cyrille parted past his children and stepped in front of them, walking towards Thomas, who cowered in the corner as his suit began to burn. Thomas prepared to get up and rush him, now that he was running out of options. As Thomas stood up, he saw what looked like Krokodil teleporting in front of him, but Thomas couldn’t slow down. He was stuck running at him as Cyrille grabbed Thomas’s head and began to squeeze it.

User: Cyrille Krokodil

Civ: Unknown

The user is able to synthesize Chorus. Other abilities unknown.

“PHANTRANA!” Thomas shouted, but he couldn’t hear anything. His head was being squeezed like a melon, and he could feel his thoughts leaking out of his head. He was looking at the group, staring intently as their father took revenge for the damage this vigilante had caused.

Then he heard someone say “Stop.”

* * *

Piotr ‘Poltergeist’ Ivanov was a leading member of the Krokodil Crime Family, the group that Thomas had spent much of his early vigilante years fighting against. Not only did they despise Thomas and all he did to them, but now he depended on them for Chorus. Piotr could’ve done that for revenge—psychological torment. And now that Piotr had figured out that ‘Phantom Limb’ and ‘Thomas Finn’ were the same guy, his personal life was about to get way less safe. Did Thomas put him in prison? It was entirely possible, and if so, that would strengthen the revenge argument even more. That must be why Piotr wanted to know his Civ. To identify him. Piotr was currently in solitary confinement at the moment, which made him safe for now. Of course ‘now’ was only a tiny part of Thomas’s life, and while he wasn’t the best planner, he had to think about the future. He had to kill Piotr Ivanov before Piotr killed him.

Thomas wasn’t technically allowed to leave his cell at night, but “technically” was a problem that was easily solved with a phantom eye and hand. He would strangle Piotr in his sleep, killing him before he could even wake up. He sent his little death drone out of his cell and had it hide in corners as a way to avoid detection from any guards who may be watching. Soon, he had found solitary confinement and was able to phase his way through the door and examine the individual prisoners. He soon found the giant that was Piotr, but at the same time, Piotr had found him. His solitary cell was tiny and dark, and Piotr’s white hair and beard hung over his face. He looked tired as he stared down at the floor.

“I suppose you’ve earned a demonstration of my Civ. That was the deal after all.” Piotr stood up and removed a small marble from his pocket. “Move the Headstones.” With that, the marble was drenched in strange lightning as it flew at the speed of a bullet towards the electronic lock on the door. Suddenly, the lock broke, its shape artificially contorting, eventually snapping, and Piotr was released from solitary.