ONE LIFETIMES EMIL
My past lives will be the death of me.
No one was supposed to know about my resurrection power; that secret was supposed to die with me, but my brother straight outed that to over a million of his online followers to make me the villain and himself the hero. Brighton is a mess, but never in a billion lifetimes would I have bet he’d kick me out of a phoenix’s nest like this. I’m shaking while holding the phone, right as Brighton exits out of his Instagram live. The one he ended by telling everyone that he would stop the In nity Son even if that means becoming the In nity Reaper to do so.
My brother has threatened my life.
And he’s called for backup—an army.
Brighton has thrown an inferno of heat my way by revealing I’m the scion of the very rst specter, Keon Máximo, as well as the founder of the Spell Walkers, Bautista de León. I’m going to be blamed for all their crimes even though I don’t remember living those lives.
No one is going to care.
Except my crew.
I’m outside in the New Ember Sanctuary’s courtyard with everyone—my mom, my best friend, the Spell Walkers, and both boys who get my heart going —and we haven’t gone back inside the castle since we last saw Brighton speeding o across the bridge and into the forest. Everyone is freaking out and talking
over each other about Brighton’s live, but I can’t focus. I’m stuck thinking about every last person who’s dreaming about immortality now that they know resurrection is possible. Most heartbreakingly, how every single phoenix is now going to become targeted because they’re the only creatures whose blood can turn a mortal human into an immortal specter.
Brighton has marked all phoenixkind for death.
Deaths even they won’t be able to return from.
I ash back to the short life of Gravesend—the century phoenix who was both born and killed in my arms and the memory of her being stabbed by the in nity-ender dagger haunts me. I’m swaying, like I might faint on the spot. I wanted to protect Gravesend, to give her the longest lives she deserved, and now her blood is running through my brother’s veins and making him all-powerful.
I failed to protect one phoenix before. It’ll be impossible to protect them all.
I look up to the night sky, where a cycle of phoenixes are ying under the stars, living their lives, unaware that everything is about to come crashing down. I can practically picture all the feathers that will be oating on rivers of blood.
All of this because Brighton got so damn pissed after I overpowered him in battle. There’s been a lot of throwback moments where I didn’t feel connected to Brighton, but nothing has felt more severing than watching him call a manhunt against his own brother. Maybe the problem is Brighton doesn’t see me as his brother ever since we discovered that I wasn’t his twin, like we’d spent our entire lives believing. Our father had found me out on the street, burning up like I had a fever, and he assumed I was just a baby abandoned under the sun. No one thought that I had been reborn in phoenix re.
I wish I hadn’t resurrected.
I wish I wasn’t even alive.
I won’t be much longer if my brother gets his way.
Life as the In nity Son is not a life I want to live anyway. These dark thoughts are digging deeper and deeper into me; I got to ght my way out of this. That starts with getting some space away from everyone cursing out Brighton over his betrayal like he can hear them.
I look up at the Sanctuary, a gorgeous two-story stone castle that a city boy like me still isn’t used to. I want to summon my burning wings and y up to the
south-facing tower, which serves as a nest for baby phoenixes. On my rst day here, I was taken up to that spot so I could chill out and catch my breath since I was so stressed. If I went up there now, there’s no way I would ever come back down. Not when I know what showdown awaits me if I do.
Halo Knights are staring at me from their windows and the bridges that connect the towers. They already weren’t about that Emil Rey life since they’re the protectors of phoenixkind and I’m not just a specter with the blood of a gray sun phoenix running through my own, but they’re now seeing me as the creator of specters everywhere. And now that I’ve turned these sacred grounds into a battle eld, I know they’re going to want me out of here more than ever. I can’t even get mad at them for that.
I turn, walking toward the open door with the brass knocker that’s shaped like an egg. I hear Ma calling my name, but I keep going until I’m out by the moonlit stream. I take deep breaths as I run my ngers through the water, but my peace is about to be super short-lived because there are footsteps approaching. I get up and nd my favorite shape-shifter, Ness Arroyo, and my favorite Halo Knight, Wyatt Warwick. Two of my favorite humans ever if I’m being straight up. Ness is limping after his own ght with Brighton, but that doesn’t stop him from picking up speed to keep up with Wyatt. They both reach for my hand at the same time and exchange glares because they’re not exactly each other’s favorite humans. Probably because there’s a lot of confusing romantic feelings ying around. But no one gets ahold of me because I back away like I might burn them if they touch me, and the fear of not being able to protect everyone is the only feeling I can a ord to pay attention to right now.
“Everything is ending,” I say, my voice cracking. “And I’m too powerless to do a damn thing about it.”
“You’re not powerless, re y,” Ness says.
He knows better than most. We’re always nding ourselves in situations where we got to have each other’s backs, like tonight when I helped bust him out of the Bounds with my phoenix re—and a lot of help—before the other prisoners could tear him apart with their own powers. Ness also said it’s as if we ’ re stuck in our own in nity cycle where we keep saving each other’s lives. That was before we kissed for the rst time, something that surprised me
because not only was he supposed to be dead, but because he’s so out-of-myleague beautiful it’s as if he’s using his morphing power to make himself so perfect.
But he doesn’t.
Everything in front of me is all Ness.
The amber eyes.
The dark curls.
The beautiful brown skin.
The lips that gave me the kiss of a lifetime.
But if I’m not careful, he’ll actually get killed because of me. I would never be able to forgive myself if someone who has survived multiple assassination attempts from his father died because he got too close to me.
“I have powers, but I don’t have the power to stop what’s coming,” I say.
“You’re not expected to stop it alone,” Wyatt says in his English accent. His broad shoulders are sinking, like he’s unable to stand tall because the weight of everything is pinning him down too. “Before we map out the best way to lay into your brother, we need to prepare an evacuation of the Sanctuary. Brighton’s unspeakable actions have now put every single phoenix at risk.”
Wyatt stares at me dead-on with his blue eyes, which rst reminded me of Brighton’s ames and do so even more now. Except Wyatt would never hurt me. Unlike the other Halo Knights, Wyatt has never blamed me for being a walking violation of everything his movement stands for since he knows I didn’t choose this life of being a specter and would never because I love phoenixes with my whole damn heart. He even thinks I could become a Halo Knight after all the work I’ve done re-creating the Starsti er, a potion that can bind the powers of any specter. But maybe I’m stupid to trust someone I haven’t even known for a month when my own brother, who I grew up with, just tried forcing that very potion down my throat so he could kick my ass in battle.
There’s no wrapping my head around being at war with Brighton.
But I can protect some lives now.
“What do we got to do to get the phoenixes out of here?” I ask.
“Unclear. I’ll need to get in contact with my commander and the other higher-ups to alert them of the issue,” Wyatt says.
“You got this, then?” Ness asks. “We’ve got bigger problems.”
Wyatt’s pale cheeks are ushed red as he bites his tongue. “Such as?”
Ness rises to the challenge. “I don’t know if you ’ re aware, but we have an election going on in this country. One where my dangerous father is this close to securing the presidency thanks to his insidious lies and new shape-shifting powers that the public doesn’t know about. If he had no problem abducting his political rival and organizing a terrorist attack to have his own son killed, you think he won’t sentence every last one of us to death once he has the full force of the government in the palm of his hand?”
Wyatt’s jaw drop is very theatrical. “You know, I can’t say that anyone had me aware of the election happening between Senator Edward Iron and Congresswoman Nicolette Sunstar, who happens to be the rst ever celestial candidate pursuing presidency in the United States of America. This is all absolute news to me, and I thank you for that education.” He takes a second to u his brown hair while peering over at Ness. “Perhaps my sarcasm got lost with my accent, but I’d like to make it very clear that I was being highly sarcastic just now. ”
“I don’t have to be good at reading people to catch that,” Ness says with a steely gaze. He adds, “And I’m excellent at reading people.”
“I must cast a little doubt on that after the way you provoked Brighton.”
“Emil needed to see that Brighton wouldn’t let anyone get in his way. Not even his own brother. I’m sort of the poster boy for family betraying you. ”
“And as truly unfortunate as your father’s treatment of you has been, perhaps your read on Brighton was missing the pages where he would turn on everyone if pushed away. ”
Ness is quiet, like he’s thinking about the blood on his hands.
Before the power brawl, Ness tried convincing me to get Brighton to drink the Starsti er before he could grow out of control. I totally see where Ness was coming from, I do. He was raised by a manipulative man who molded him into a mouthpiece against celestials, painting them as nothing but dangerous individuals who had to be put in their place before they could rise above everyone else. Ness got smart, but it was too late. He doesn’t want to see me get played by my brother like that. He proved himself right when he shape-shifted
into me to get Brighton to take the potion and got attacked in return. There’s some light bruising around his face from when Brighton was laying into him with super-fast punches—Brighton didn’t even know that wasn’t me until he looked up and saw me in the doorway. Ness took one for the team by showing me that my brother is willing to kick my ass if I get in his way, but the thing is, it’s hard to feel like a team because Ness went and did that behind my back.
“I wish you hadn’t done that,” I say.
He sighs. “You needed to learn this lesson sooner rather than later. Brighton is not at the height of his strength yet. You can still beat him.”
“Yeah, but I never wanted to get into a ght with him.”
“It was inevitable.”
“You say that like it’s written in the stars,” Wyatt says. “This isn’t destiny. You made this happen by pushing Brighton.”
Ness looks like he wants to clock Wyatt, but restrains himself. “Did I push Brighton to kill Stanton?”
I ash back to earlier tonight during the battle at the Bounds, where Brighton ripped out the heart of the Blood Caster with basilisk blood before setting it on re. I get that Brighton had been terrorized and tortured by Stanton, but still… the way he showed no remorse. The way he smiled after taking a life. The life of a killer, but a life. However long I get before I die, that smile where my brother became a killer will haunt me. That should’ve been a one-o , but Brighton has already made it super clear that he will play judge, jury, and executioner if it means winning this war. I can’t make him see reason. It’s legit got me trying to see if I’m looking at this all wrong. It wouldn’t be the rst time I’ve been pushed to be a better soldier since my methods aren’t as charged as everyone else’s.
“Brighton only killed Stanton to save us, ” I say, hoping someone will back up this hollow lie.
“You know damn well that he doesn’t care about me, ” Ness says, and he closes the space between us and rests his hands on my shoulders. “I don’t care that he only cares about protecting you. That’s ne. But you need to let it sink in that Brighton is Team Brighton above everyone else. Even you. ”
“He’s only running his mouth when he talks about killing me. ”
“Is he? Do you think the world will believe me when I tell them that my father is behind my mother’s murder? And how he organized the Blackout to pin my death on the Spell Walkers? They won’t, but it’s true.” His amber eyes are tearing up. “I got lucky and survived. I won’t let your nal thought be how surprising it is that you ’ ve been killed at your brother’s hands.”
I shrug him o , as if that’ll help me shake away these thoughts of Brighton using any number of means to murder me. Would he lay into me with swiftpunches that come at me so fast I might not be able to think? Incinerate me with his re-bolts? Reach into my chest and rip out my heart, or better yet, stab me in the heart with an in nity-ender dagger so I can’t one day resurrect and rise to power to defeat him?
This is all nonsense.
Brighton’s ego was wounded when he hopped on Instagram. I bet once he settles down and catches his breath he’ll try and undo his call for war against me and the Spell Walkers.
“Brighton isn’t going to kill me, ” I declare.
Ness shakes his head. “Emil, you can’t possibly be this stubborn or naive—”
“Perhaps you should go for a walk,” Wyatt suggests, stepping to Ness and pushing his chest. “Your father has in icted unforgivable pain and grief on your life, but that doesn’t mean everyone ’ s family members are out for the blood of their own. ”
Ness shoves Wyatt so hard that he falls onto his back. “Don’t ever touch me again,” he says coolly. The threat is deeper than Wyatt probably recognizes. As a former Blood Caster, Ness has been forced to kill other people for his own survival. I see how it eats away at him, how he wakes up and nds himself morphed like his victims because he’s so haunted that he can’t stop thinking about them. And if Wyatt keeps trying him, there might be another corpse added to his body count.
“Cut it out!” I shout.
This is so stupid, everyone is acting out in this sanctuary.
“I’m afraid I must defend myself,” Wyatt says as he gets up, wiping his palms. “Now, Ness, I make no claims of being the best ghter, but you should be warned that I hold my own in quarrels just ne.”
“Just shut up and throw a punch,” Ness says, his sts ready.
Wyatt charges Ness with a wide swing like a phoenix’s wings in battle, and just as Ness is about to jump into an uppercut, they both go ying into the air as if swept up by gale-force winds. I turn to nd Prudencia standing outside the Sanctuary’s front doors, her eyes glowing like skipping stars as she telekinetically suspends Ness and Wyatt.
“Are you children for real?” Prudencia asks.
“Put me down,” Ness says.
“I quite like it up here,” Wyatt says. “Feels like ying.”
“You’re being restrained until someone tells me what the hell is going on, ” Prudencia says as she comes closer to me. Ness and Wyatt talk over each other, and if Prudencia wanted to ing them into the river that runs along the forest so they can cool o , I honestly wouldn’t be mad. “Shut up!” And they do, almost as if she’s used her power to suck the air out of them so they can’t speak. “Emil, what happened?”
My head hangs low. I can’t even meet my best friend’s gaze. “They’re ghting over what Brighton will or won’t do.”
She stares up at Wyatt and Ness. “You guys don’t know Brighton like Emil does.”
“Or like you do,” I say.
Prudencia looks haunted as she stares into the distance.
Ever since Brighton and I met Prudencia in our freshman year of high school, they’ve been living this will-they, won’t-they life. I’ve been rooting for them to get their act together because I’ve always thought Prudencia could keep Brighton in check, and I loved the idea of welcoming Prudencia into our family even more than we already have, especially since she was living with a pretty terrible aunt after her parents were killed. The timing was just never right for the Brighton-Prudencia love story until a few days after Brighton drank the Reaper’s Blood, which gave him this deluxe set of powers sourced from a phoenix, hydra, and two ghosts. But before Brighton became the In nity Reaper, he was dying. The doctor said he had weeks, maybe months to live. Nothing like death to make someone change their life. Brighton and Prudencia got close, and it was a dope shot of happiness with all the other heartbreaking things we had going on
at the time, like when our mother had been taken captive by the Blood Casters, or when I was grieving Ness because I thought he was dead.
Then everything went wrong.
I should’ve known it was too good to be true—that Brighton wasn’t going to love someone more than he loves himself. But Prudencia made it clear that this wasn’t some plot twist that caught her o guard. Right when Brighton and I were beginning to battle, Prudencia used her power against him. Brighton was pissed she didn’t take his side and she let him know that his side wasn’t worth taking. He tried bad-mouthing her, but Prudencia was unfazed, as if she had built some telekinetic shield around herself to ward away anything that could hurt her. But I can tell she’s as heartbroken and betrayed by Brighton as a lover as I am by Brighton as a brother.
Prudencia gracefully lowers Ness and Wyatt to the ground. “I won’t be gentle next time.”
Ness crosses his arms. “If I can’t change your mind about Brighton, I’ll stay out of your family a airs and go deal with my own. ”
He walks away, heading back into the Sanctuary even after I call his name.
“That simpli es things,” Wyatt says.
“Look, you won, okay? You pissed him o .”
“I wasn’t seeking to piss him o . I was simply—”
“You’re pissing me o too right now, ” I snap because I came out here for peace and haven’t gotten it.
Wyatt is just as stunned that I’ve come at him like this as I am. “I’ll give you a moment.” He turns on his heel and returns to the Sanctuary’s grounds.
Prudencia comes over and gives me a hug right as I feel like I’m about to collapse. It’s like she’s holding me up, as we ’ ve had to do for each other a lot in the four years we ’ ve been friends. I’m really missing that life I got to live before I was the In nity Son or Fire-Wing or whatever people want to nickname me that makes me look more like some superhero than an eighteen-year-old kid who never wanted to ght in this war. I want to go back to the times when I was there for Prudencia when she was going through her breakup with this celestial Dominic instead of the heartbreak that comes with my brother’s betrayal. Or
even how Prudencia was there for me when I was grieving my dad instead of wondering how we ’ re going to deal with my brother wanting me dead.
“Am I being a total idiot about Brighton?” I ask.
“If you are, then I am too,” Prudencia says. “Brighton refusing to part with powers he should’ve never stolen in the rst place is one thing. Threatening your life to keep them is another.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t betting on that either.”
Memories pop up again, this time fully centered around Brighton. How he tried keeping a brave face when he found out he wasn’t going to be valedictorian. How upset he got the morning of our birthday when he saw another YouTuber’s video of a Spell Walker showdown go viral instead of his own. How let down he was when the meet-up he was hosting for his online fans was underattended. How defeated he was when we didn’t get powers on our birthday. But nothing has eaten away at him more than my phoenix re bursting to life for the rst time, taking me down a path I would do anything to go back in time and reverse. Not Brighton, though. He pushed me into a world of Spell Walkers and Blood Casters, of Reaper’s Blood and Starsti ers, and now he’s going to rule if I…
If I can’t stop him.
“Brighton isn’t going to kill me, ” I declare again. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t have to ght him.”
“I’m on your side. Us against whatever sad army he builds.”
“I’m hoping it won’t just be us. Come on. ”
We head back into the Sanctuary, where all my people are still in the courtyard. There’s Ma sitting on a bench with Eva Na si, the team’s healer. The two of them got really close when they were held captive inside Senator Iron’s manor. Iris Simone-Chambers is on her phone. She’s a legacy Spell Walker who took over as leader after her parents were killed in the Blackout. She’s short, but I’ve always thought of her as small and mighty because of her powerhouse strength and power-proof skin that protects her against most spellwork. Wesley Young is holding Ruth Rodriquez close, rubbing her arms to keep her warm on this night, which is only getting chillier the longer it drags on. They’ve been dating for a minute, a power couple with lots of heart. Their baby, Esther, has
got to be somewhere back inside the Sanctuary, probably being monitored by one—or even several—of Ruth’s clones that she can conjure at will. If needed, Wesley can always go grab Esther in the blink of an eye with his swift-speed. And then there’s Ness and Wyatt, keeping their distance like the sun and the moon.
The closer I get, the more eyes on me. I can’t even look at Ma, who must be cycling through a thousand terrible thoughts of her own. The courtyard has gone quiet except for the overhead phoenix screeches that catch Iris’s attention, and she hangs up her call.
“How you feeling, buddy?” Wesley asks.
“Heartbroken, anxious, terri ed,” I say.
“A day in the life,” Iris says.
I’ve had it extraordinarily bad for a couple months, but this has been all Iris has known since childhood. I get how she’s strong enough to lift a car over her own head, but even her power can’t help her carry the weight of the world like she does. I’m in legit awe.
I feel this pressure to hype everyone up with some pep talk about how we ’ re going to get through this together. But that’s not what I got in me, so I keep it real because that’s all I can do. “I got to apologize to all of you. I’m so sorry for how much harder your lives have been since I entered the picture.” I ght back my tears and add, “If I could’ve done this all di erently, trust that I would’ve.”
They look at one another with confused gazes and then back at me.
“No one ’ s mad at you, Emil,” Eva says.
“And we like having you around,” Ruth says, then turns to Ma. “Carolina too.”
“Brighton is the pain in the ass, ” Wesley says. “But even he wasn’t the biggest pain in the ass. ”
“Until now, ” Iris says. “Out of all the power that boy has, his platform is his biggest. I was on the phone with Ash Hyperion just now, and there are still no leads on Sunstar’s disappearance…” She shoots a look over at Ness, whose head is hanging low since he was forced to aid his father in the abduction of the congresswoman. “ … but nding Sunstar is probably useless for our cause anyway since Brighton’s messaging has only further tanked our reputation. And I…” Iris
sits on the bench beside Eva, holding her girlfriend’s hand. “I think I’m ready to take the L. Put the Spell Walkers to rest.”
Everyone’s quiet.
In a world where my brother threatens to kill me, this is still shocking.
Ever since the Blackout earlier this year, the next generation of Spell Walkers has been risking their lives to keep the people of New York safe from all sorts of threats. They’ve protected celestials from the government enforcers who try to lock them up in the Bounds or kill them dead in the streets. They’ve gone up against celestials and specters who terrorize those without powers of their own even saving the very people who hate them simply because they do have powers of their own. And out of this new wave of Spell Walkers, only two are legacies Iris and Maribelle Lucero, a celestial-specter hybrid with a complicated past. Maribelle has always been the one who hates saving the people who hate her, but Iris has always remained a dutiful Spell Walker in honor of her fallen parents. That re within seems to be extinguishing.
“But then they win,” Wesley says. So this is news to him too. “We can’t let that happen.”
“My entire life has been about ghting,” Iris says. “Yours hasn’t.”
Wesley got kicked out by his parents when he was fourteen years old. He was living on the streets and would dash in and out of supermarkets and restaurants for groceries and hot meals until he met his best friend, Atlas Haas, the Spell Walker who was killed last month. No matter how heavy all that is, it’s not the same as the lifetime of hate Iris has experienced.
“You’ve been in this forever so you could create a better world, Iris,” Wesley says. “It won’t always be this way. ”
“When will the ghting end?” Iris asks.
I’ve asked myself that question a lot.
“I don’t know,” Wesley says. “But it’s going to be impossible for us to get on with our lives if we don’t ght.”
“You’re not in this like I am. You have literally started your own family in the time I’ve met you. Eva and I would love to have what you and Ruth do before everything comes crashing down on us. ”
“I understand that. Just know that it’s no joyride leaving my girlfriend and daughter for weeks at a time for their own safety and wondering if I’ll ever be able to get back to them.”
Ruth o ers Iris a small smile. “I’m so looking forward to watching you and Eva become mothers. Just know in the meantime you ’ re our family too.” She looks around at all of us and ends her gaze on me. “You all are. ”
“I’m delighted to be considered family,” Wyatt says, both hands to his heart.
“Mostly all of you, ” Wesley corrects with a grin.
I step closer, like I’m about to form a huddle with everyone. “I can’t force anyone to ght, but if we ’ re all game, I think we ’ ve got to give this one last push before we tap out.”
“Easy for you to say, ” Iris says. “You’ve been ghting for what, two months?”
“Not even, ” I admit. Almost, but not quite. “I don’t envy the weight you ’ ve been carrying your entire life, Iris. Let me help.”
“Let us all help,” Ma says, wiping tears from her cheeks. “However we can. ”
Iris reaches over Eva to give Ma a gentle squeeze. Then her gaze is back on me. “Assuming Sunstar is even alive, if we can’t nd her and do everything in our power to convince everyone to vote her into o ce, then no more Spell Walkers. I won’t give up the rest of my life ghting for people who don’t want to be saved. Deal?”
“Deal,” I say.
Election Day is our deadline.
No Sunstar means no Spell Walkers.
Other heroes can rise up, and they’ll have to if we can’t get it together.
Who knows, some new blood could be good, but for now, we ’ re all going to ght.
“How do we do this?” Iris asks.
She’s not coming in with ideas.
She’s letting me help like I asked.
She’s letting me lead.
In a ght against my brother, I got to become a leader.
“Um…” I look around at our team—four celestials, a specter, a Halo Knight, and a mother who is as ordinary as the life she used to lead. We have a lot of
enemies to take down and not a lot of time to do so. “Okay, Wyatt, begin the evacuation process so we can get the phoenixes and Halo Knights to safety. Wesley, gure out our next hiding spot. Somewhere that’s removed from everyone so we don’t have to disturb anyone ’ s lives any more than we have. Iris, take the lead on Sunstar since you ’ re already in talks with her husband.”
“I could help,” Ness speaks up. “It’s partly my fault.”
“No one blames you, ” I say. “Your father practically had a wand to your head.” And the heads of my mother and Eva if Ness didn’t agree to shift into Sunstar and impersonate her during the last presidential debate to tank her support.
“I could have let him kill me, ” Ness says.
“I’m so damn glad you didn’t.”
Our eyes are locked, but I can’t help but feel Wyatt’s on me too.
“If nding Sunstar means defeating my father, I’m in,” Ness says.
“So we ’ ve got that covered,” Iris says. “It’s safe to assume that if Luna wasn’t killed in the Bounds that she was freed with the other prisoners. We need con rmation either way. ”
“I can do some research,” Ruth says.
“Great. So that leaves one last obvious threat.”
Ma is sobbing harder, like this is all her fault since she brought that threat into this world. It’s killing me; I can’t even look at her.
“I’m going to handle Brighton,” I say.
“Me too,” Prudencia says.
“How do you plan on doing that?” Iris asks.
“I’ll get him to take the Starsti er potion.”
Iris shakes her head. “That might not be good enough.”
I know what she’s asking of me, but it’s not happening.
“I’ll die before I kill my brother,” I say.
Everyone’s silence is practically screaming, Then you’ll die!
Life won’t be worth living if it’s always going to be like this, but it doesn’t have to be—it won’t be if I can get my life together.
If I ght, surviving will be worth it for everyone, not just myself.
But not if I hold back like I have been.
I got to get stronger, just like a gray sun phoenix who resurrects more powerful than its previous lifetime.
Once I win the war, I can drink the Starsti er, bind my powers, and restart my life.
One last rebirth.
If I want to be reborn, I have to stop my brother from pursuing the life he’s wanted since we were kids fanboying over the Spell Walkers and pretending we had powers.
I got to go to war with Brighton with very real powers.
The In nity Son versus the In nity Reaper.
To end in nity, I have to beat the brother who will kill to keep it.
If I can’t, I’ll see him in the next life.
TWO THE BRIGHTSIDERS BRIGHTON
I am on my own, but not for long.
My army is waiting for me.
Running away from the Sanctuary and returning to the city to reach my followers hasn’t been easy. I’ve been traveling on foot thanks to the dashing abilities I received from the blood of the golden-strand hydra, but unlike Wesley’s celestial swift-speed, which zips him nonstop from Point A to Point B, my power only allows me to move in short bursts. I’m still getting the hang of moving this quickly too, such as making sure that I wasn’t running o cli s back when I was still in the forests, or the close call with a truck once I made my way to a Bronx intersection. I made it through in one piece, but even if it had crushed me, I would’ve regrown my bones and regenerated any lost limbs, also thanks to that hydra who died so I could become the ultimate survivor.
Still, there’s so much more to being powerful than just surviving.
For instance, instead of being slowed down by the nature of my superspeed, traveling would be a lot smoother if I could fade away like a ghost and teleport as I’ve seen June do, or y like a phoenix as my brother—as Emil can.
It’s ne. I trust I’ll get there.
After all, I was supposed to die and now I’m the In nity Reaper.
I’ve been tapping into more powers as the days pass.
I will be unstoppable, but tonight, I have to accept my limitations. I take a break, resting my sore legs curbside of a bodega that has seen better days. I’ll pop
in to grab water in a moment but not before I go online to check on my followers, just as I have every other time I’ve needed to stop and catch my breath.
Since exposing Emil’s past lifetimes, I’ve been garnering a lot of support. People eager to help, both with and without powers of their own. Unlike the Spell Walkers, I’m not going to turn normal people away as if phoenix re and powerhouse strength are the only ways to win wars. Battles, maybe. But wars are won by numbers and I intend on having a legion to call my own. That legion will include those who can’t burn their opponents or crush skulls. They’re just as valuable in the ght, if not more sometimes, which I proved multiple times back before I had ultimate power.
I was once a nobody who no one wanted, and now I’m the one everybody wants as their leader.
Their king.
My inbox on Instagram says as much too. The majority of my DMs are from people who believe in me. They’re sharing so much. Stories of betrayals. Motivations for justice. Even sympathy and love for putting a world of strangers before someone I grew up with through any means necessary. It makes the sting of everything I’ve been through tonight a little easier. More than that, it makes me feel less lonely. There are plenty of people dragging me online too for not keeping my family business between family and wanting to hear Emil’s side of things, but I ignore them for now. If they become really obnoxious, I’ll block them, but I do want to give them a chance to not only follow me online, but join me in person too. I focus on those who trust me rst, and as I’ve done during multiple stops tonight, I glance at their pro les before privately replying to them with where I’m hoping to meet my army at dawn. There are plenty of ordinary people, many who seem to have a lot of admiration for celestials on their individual pages. I remind myself to not trust everything I see online. I certainly have held parts of my life secret from my followers, and I can’t rule out someone masking their identity after a certain someone who almost became my girlfriend hid the fact that she was a celestial for years.
Prudencia had some absolute nerve suggesting that I’m an egomaniac when all I’m doing is making the world a fairer place for people like her. I rose to the challenge and
Never mind.
She chose the wrong side, and one day she’ll be forced to thank me for making her life easier.
I’m going to go meet up with those who’ve chosen the right side.
First, I desperately need to hydrate, but I didn’t bring my wallet when vacating the Sanctuary. I peek into the bodega, eyeing the fridge from the doorway. I got to get my hands on a gallon of water, maybe two. I consider explaining the situation to the man behind the counter, but I already know how this is going to go. He’ll say no and I’ll have to just take the water anyway, so I just cut to the chase and dash inside the bodega, grab two gallons of water, and dash right back out and down the block until I can round a dark corner so I can drink in peace. The entire time I’m chugging I remind myself that I’m not doing anything that Wesley himself didn’t do when he was nothing but a celestial trying to survive on the streets. If he got to become a Spell Walker after all his petty thefts, then I’m still primed to become a hero too.
The hero.
I look to the sky, refreshed, and dash and dash until I’ve arrived at the meeting spot.
Whisper Fields, the park where I hosted a pathetic meet-up on my birthday last month. I had thought it would be cool to nally meet some of my followers and subscribers, and even sell them some merch on site, but only six Brightsiders showed up that afternoon. It was humiliating, but more than that, it was infuriating. Society cares more about prankster videos than the important coverage I was providing about the highs and lows of celestials. I worked really hard on that and received gratitude from a handful of people—technically over a handful of people but just barely. This is going to be di erent. I wouldn’t have returned here if I didn’t believe that with my whole heart, but I have come back because Whisper Fields has always held sentimental value for me. The people of the Bronx named this park after our fellow native Gunnar Whisper, a celestial soldier who fought necromancers and ghosts in the Undying Battle of Fountain Stone, and I’m hoping my community provides me the same recognition after I save not only our borough, not only our city, not only our country, but the
world itself; Brighton Park or Brighton Fields or Brighton Garden is the least they can do.
As I walk through the park, alone, I know I won’t be soon.
Birdsong is rising with the sun, but I’m not paying that any real attention. How could I when there’s real music playing through Whisper Fields, like the soundtrack of a crowd cheering. They’re so loud and absolutely disturbing the peace, and if the stars are nally merciful, this will all be for me. I step into view, and even though they aren’t holding signs, I’m certain I’ve brought everyone together this morning. It becomes clearer when I’m spotted by a follower who begins chanting my name. Everyone else turns to me, and the chant builds and builds.
“Brighton! Brighton! Brighton!”
Six people could never be loud enough to have my name booming across the park like this. There might be sixty people here, at least. I’ll admit, I was counting on more, but this is very impressive since I only o ered very short notice. Most people have slept through my updates and my following will only grow and grow as everyone else wakes up to the news of Emil’s past lives and my determination to protect them from Emil and the Spell Walkers as well as Blood Casters and enforcers and corrupt politicians.
If someone isn’t with us, they are against us.
For the most part, the sea of Brightsiders is parting as I walk through them, but others are so eager to get their hands on me like I’m a god, squeezing my shoulders and arms and hands, and I let them. I’m in no danger. Even the most powerful in this crowd wouldn’t be able to kill me. But I can certainly rip their hearts out of their chests if they move against me.
I reach Gunnar Whisper’s bronze monument and stare up at this hero of the past. I realize the Brightsiders are taking pictures and lming me. Many of them have great instincts for social media; I noticed this while glimpsing their pro les. Some are big in uencers whose content admittedly made me cringe a few times, like this power couple who post ad after ad, but if I play my cards right, their followers will become my own. I better put on a show if I want to build my empire. I kneel before Gunnar and rest my palm on his plaque, covering his dates of birth and death. They’re no longer chanting my name, like they’re respecting
my need for privacy in this moment. I close my eyes and hear nothing but whispers as if I’m lost in thought about Gunnar. I am in a way, but I’m not re ecting on his life or his vulnerability to die, which I won’t ever have to worry about. I just keep thinking about all the heroes that will one day bow before my own statue.
I rise to full height, wishing I could y above everyone here. I’m tempted to try, but on the o chance I do manage to tap into this buried power and only hover ever so slightly, I don’t want to embarrass myself in front of the people I’m winning over. I need to show strength and strength alone. Thankfully I have a better handle on my other powers. I dash vertically up Gunnar’s bronze leg and chest and stand on his at shoulder, fteen feet above everyone else. Applause breaks the silence. A celestial doing this on any given day isn’t exciting to most people, but I’m a specter, someone who wasn’t privileged enough to be born with powers but strong enough to host them later in life. Some people actually die when they infuse creature blood into their own, and while it was touch and go with me after drinking the Reaper’s Blood elixir made from the essences of ghosts and a hydra and a phoenix, I survived, in nitely more powerful than before.
Everyone is looking up at me.
Most are taking pictures or lming me.
Others are just watching me.
Whatever they are doing, they are here for me.
Me.
I now need to prove myself to them.
“Thank you all for this warm welcome!” I shout down at them with my hand to my heart. “I’m still recovering from my brother’s betrayal. I probably will be forever. But I’m less alone because of you—all of you. ” There’s some applause, but I settle them down. “I’ve been running for my life, but I’m feeling braver and stronger. I must rally—we all must rally. There’s some serious action on the horizon. The Spell Walkers will come for me, but I’m more concerned for the rest of the country—for all of you. Powerful prisoners who were locked up in the Bounds have been set free because of a dangerous rescue mission to break out Ness Arroyo from his cell.” I avoid looking any of them in the eye as I hang
my head. “I participated in this. Emil made me use my powers to get everyone inside, and I’m sorry for all the harm I’ve caused in aiding him. But I can make this—I will make this right.” No one needs to know that I was more than eager to prove my heroics and abilities in the Bounds. “This is where you come in. If you ’ re unable to protect the city against these dangerous criminals, do not engage. Send me a message and I’ll see to it. For those of you who can ght, let’s coordinate. In a world where we cannot trust the enforcers or the Spell Walkers to take care of us, we must take charge and become the heroes.”
Silver and blue ames snake around my forearm. “If you come across Emil, let me know. He caught me o guard before, but he won’t be able to overpower me next time. I’m ready for him.”
I cast the re-bolt into the sky.
The Brightsiders roar with cheers.
My followers will become my eyes and ears, my soldiers.
It’s far from a legion, but it’s a start.
