The forest stretched endlessly ahead, tall pines whispering in the wind above them. Moonlight trickled through the canopy, silver streaks cutting the dark. Alex's boots crunched over fallen leaves and twigs, while Bob's steps were near silent, measured, like a predator used to moving unseen.
They had walked for over an hour in silence, the facility now far behind them. No more alarms. No more screams. Just the occasional hoot of an owl or rustle in the underbrush.
Bob finally spoke. "You holding up okay?"
Alex nodded, breath a little labored from the trek. "Yeah, I'm great, actually."
Bob gave a low chuckle, the first sign of levity since they left. "You're tougher than most grown men I've known."
Alex glanced up at him. "Is it true? That you are Rafael Azar?"
Bob didn't answer right away. He slowed his pace and looked up at the stars through a gap in the trees.
"Yeah," he finally said. "It's true."
"To be honest, I think I've known that for quite a while now. But why did you change your name?"
"I didn't want to be him anymore."
They walked a few more minutes in silence before Alex asked again, voice quieter now, like he didn't want to break the fragile trust between them.
"Why not?"
Bob stopped. He turned to face Alex, kneeling to his level, his red eyes catching the moonlight.
"Because Rafael Azar was the ultimate weapon, that turned against his masters," he said. "He was created to destroy, to kill without thought. That's not who I wanted to be. And when I got a second chance… I tried to live like I was human."
Alex studied him for a moment, his own expression unreadable. "You are human."
Bob's jaw clenched at that. A flicker of something passed through him, guilt…
"Thanks, kid," he said finally, rising to his feet.
They continued through the woods until they reached a narrow stream, shallow enough to cross but wide enough to slow any pursuit. Bob checked the trees, then led them across the water, boots splashing softly.
Eventually, they came to a clearing with a rusted old hunting cabin half-swallowed by ivy. Bob motioned for Alex to wait as he pushed open the creaking door and checked inside. No signs of life. Just dust, cobwebs, and the scent of pine and old smoke.
He waved Alex in. "It'll do for now."
Inside, they lit a lantern Bob had taken from the facility and made makeshift beds with old blankets. Alex settled in first, clearly exhausted, but unable to sleep just yet.
Bob sat by the window, keeping watch, eyes scanning the trees.
"Do you think they'll come after us?" Alex asked softly.
Bob didn't answer right away. "They'll try."
Alex swallowed. "And if they find us?"
Bob turned, meeting his eyes. "Then I remind them why they feared Rafael Azar.
There was no pride in his voice. Just cold certainty.
Alex lay back, staring at the ceiling. "Do you miss them? The others?"
Bob hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. I will."
A pause.
"You think Lena will keep them safe?"
"If anyone can, it's her."
Alex finally closed his eyes, letting the weight of the day pull him under. Bob stayed awake, unmoving, one hand resting on the old knife he kept on his belt. Outside, the wind picked up.
The lantern cast long shadows across the wooden walls, flickering with every breath of wind through the cracks in the window frame.
Alex lay on his side, bundled beneath the musty old blanket. Bob still sat by the window, silent, eyes scanning the trees. It had been a long night, but Alex wasn't asleep yet.
He turned his head toward Bob. "Hey."
Bob didn't move. "Yeah?"
Alex hesitated. "Can I ask something?"
Bob finally looked over, his red eyes faint in the dim light. "You can always ask."
Alex sat up a little. "Your powers. I've seen what you can do. What is it really?"
Bob didn't answer immediately. His jaw tightened just slightly, but he didn't seem angry, more like he was carefully choosing the right words.
"I control fear," he said simply.
Alex blinked. "Fear?"
"Fear and darkness. Shadows, if you want the poetic version. I can shape them, feed off them. And I can project fear into people, bring their worst nightmares into the front of their minds. Make them live it."
Alex's eyes widened. "So that's how you tore those guys apart."
Bob nodded once. "Yeah. Once I unleash it… it's hard to stop."
Alex studied him in the low light. "Does it hurt?"
Bob raised a brow. "What, being hit with it? Of course it does."
"No. I meant you. Does it hurt… you?"
Bob stared at the fire for a moment, his voice quieter now. "No... Yeah. Maybe. It's had to explain."
Alex didn't speak for a while. The only sound was the wind moaning gently outside.
"Why didn't you use it more?" Alex finally asked.
Bob leaned back in the old wooden chair. "Because I don't want to become it. Every time I use it, it takes something from me. Maybe a good memory. Maybe a little more control. Maybe a piece of who I am now. It let's my true self out."
"IRafael," Alex said softly.
Bob gave a short, humorless laugh. "Exactly."
Alex frowned, the weight of the truth settling on his shoulders. "But… you used it to protect us."
"I did," Bob said. "And I'll do it again if I have to. But I'm trying not to lose myself if possible."
Alex looked down, pulling the blanket tighter around his shoulders. "I think… if you were really a monster, you wouldn't care about any of that."
Bob turned to look at him, and for a second, there was a flicker of something deep behind those red eyes. Not just pain.
Hope.
He nodded, just once. "Thanks, kid."