* * *
Once the little commotion in the car had died down, Ben released the handbrake to get moving as planned.
He aimed to get out of the busy downtown area and head straight for Central as quickly as possible.
But no sooner had the car started moving than a suspicious black vehicle started tailing them.
“Seems like we really are being followed.”
Ben cautiously flicked his eyes toward the side and rearview mirrors.
A black car with windows tinted too dark to see through was trailing behind.
One was right behind them, and another kept pace at their side, maintaining a steady distance.
How do I lose them?
They were in the heart of the city—crowded streets full of cars and pedestrians.
If whoever this was had half a brain, they wouldn’t try anything overt.
But if their goal was to block Xenon from reaching Central, there was no predicting what they might try.
“We don’t even know why they’re after us… Any idea who they might be, Xenon?”
Ben asked while nervously glancing over as they stopped at a red light.
But Xenon’s face had drastically changed.
“Xenon—?”
“…S-something’s… wrong…”
Ben had noticed earlier that Xenon’s sclera had turned red, likely due to poor control over his powers.
But now his hair—almost the exact color of Ben’s—was burning white at the tips.
The door handle he clutched for support snapped off with a loud crack, and the muscles in his upper arm were expanding and contracting geometrically, letting off wisps of smoke.
Suddenly, a memory flashed through Ben’s mind.
Not too long ago, he had seen something very similar to this.
…Shit.
As soon as he realized what it was, it felt like red sirens were going off in his head.
“…Xenon, are you okay?”
Of course he wasn’t—but Ben clung to that sliver of hope, just wishing he could keep Xenon mentally grounded.
Anyone could see it: the signs of an imminent power surge.
Ben was standing at a crossroads, no matter which way he turned, it was a cliff.
“…Wh-why… why now… ughhh…”
The red veins in Xenon’s eyes spread as his irises turned completely crimson.
He’d been trying so hard to suppress himself ever since that incident with the woman, but now it felt like he was slipping into a pit he’d never climb out of again.
Maybe forcing his power earlier had pushed him past his limit.
‘I can’t lose control here.’
‘I don’t want to lose control.’
His vision blurred, and the only thought dominating Xenon’s mind was that he had to stay conscious, no matter what.
VROOOOM—-
As the light turned green, Ben slammed the gas pedal and started weaving dangerously between cars.
He adjusted his speed repeatedly, trying to shake the pursuers, but their relentless tailing only confirmed that the car was targeting them specifically.
With lips pressed tight, Ben gripped the steering wheel hard and kept thinking.
What’s going to happen first?
Will we make it to Central, or will Xenon Pinaca lose control?
Focus. Stay focused. Think objectively.
Either way, it was a lose-lose situation, but he had no choice but to move forward.
At the next intersection, Ben feigned a left turn and suddenly swerved right.
The aggressive move earned him a chorus of angry honks, but he didn’t have time to care.
His gamble paid off—one of the black cars tried to follow but was blocked by a passing truck, causing it to hesitate.
Ben floored the gas, speeding up.
The other car was still on them, but at least one had been shaken off—for now, that was a win.
BZZZZZZZZ—-
Suddenly, Ben’s phone vibrated in his pocket.
He yanked it out with one hand, glanced quickly at the caller ID—and let out a dry laugh.
Of all times.
[Haimar Eilec]
Just a little while ago, he’d been waiting on a call over something as trivial as cake.
Now, the call carried a whole different weight.
He hesitated for a moment, wondering how the hell to explain this mess, but in the end, he had to take it.
“Yes, I’ve got your call.”
As Ben kept his eyes on the road, a familiar, lazy voice came through the line.
—Saw your message. Did you get the cake?
Maybe he had just seen the text.
The casual tone—like asking “Did you eat breakfast?”—felt surreal compared to the chaos Ben was in.
Just earlier, he’d wanted to ask if Haimar had any particular favorites.
Now, none of that mattered.
“I bought the most famous one. But that’s not the issue right n—”
Just as Ben started to speak, something lunged out from an alley just beyond the intersection.
SCREEEEEEEEECH—!!
Goddammit.
In the moment he let his guard down, the car they’d shaken off popped out again, right in front of them.
Ben slammed the brakes.
Tires shrieked against the asphalt as the car jerked forward violently.
Both Ben and Xenon were thrown toward the dashboard, but Ben clamped down on the steering wheel, phone wedged between his shoulder and ear.
“Are you hurt, Xenon?”
Ben glanced over, but the near-miss meant little to someone already spiraling into a power frenzy.
The real threat wasn’t a collision—it was what was happening inside Xenon right now.
Knowing that, Ben didn’t waste time asking further.
He released the brake and hit the accelerator again.
“What the hell?! Was that a crash?!”
“Looks like there was almost an accident. You really should be more careful!”
Despite the murmurs around them, the car—which had come to a stop just in time—jerked slightly as it started to move again under the driver’s command.
It was a relief that the street hadn’t been too crowded.
If it had been like before, someone definitely would’ve gotten hit.
– Ben Plaskun?
“Yes—! Yes, I’m listening!”
Juggling a phone call, driving, and keeping an eye on Xenon—if only he had three bodies!
– What about Elgran?
No matter how the situation was unfolding, the person on the other end of the line didn’t care about Ben’s distractions and coldly asked again.
Their voice was so frigid, it felt like a blizzard was blowing out of the smartphone.
“We separated a while ago.”
– Then who’s the person next to you?
“This might take a while to explain, but for now, they’re with Integra—”
Ben desperately wanted to explain everything, but with only average driving skills and having to dodge two pursuing vehicles while maintaining a phone call, he didn’t have the luxury of eloquence.
If only there were some kind of translator that could turn nonsense into perfect understanding.
– Didn’t I tell you to contact me if anything happened?
This guy…
He was annoyed.
“Yes. That’s why I’m calling you now, isn’t it.”
It was a bit of a stretch, but he had to make it sound reasonable somehow.
And honestly, Ben had been planning to contact Haimar as soon as he shook off the pursuers.
Really.
– Where are you?
Just three syllables, but the threat behind them was so palpable, Ben felt grateful that this conversation was happening over the phone.
If they started a real argument, he knew Haimar wouldn’t back down even once.
So when Haimar cut straight to the point without any fluff, Ben actually felt a little relieved.
“Posana. I’ll send you the exact location in a message. Hanging up now!”
They were still weaving through a busy street, so there wasn’t much point in sharing a detailed location.
And Ben was sure—if it was Haimar, it wouldn’t even take fifteen minutes to get here from the capital, Central.
– I’ll hear the full story when I get there.
Just before the line disconnected, that parting comment struck like a blade, sending a cold sweat trickling down Ben’s back.
Right.
Time to think positively. If you compared the current situation to dealing with that man, this mess might actually be a hundred—no, a thousand—times better.
Even if the odds were against him now, if he could just keep his head and hold out, he could win this.
Ben pushed his driving skills to their limit, like walking a tightrope, and focused on slipping toward the outskirts of the bustling city.
One wrong move, and innocent people could get dragged into this.
That was the last thing he wanted.
He had to head somewhere with the fewest people and cars possible.
Use everything he could.
Escape as efficiently as possible.
“Ugh… ngh…!”
Beside him, Xenon was struggling with an indescribable kind of pain, desperately trying to hold himself together.
Still stuck in Ben’s face.
Hold on—
A plan flashed through Ben’s mind.
Right now, his face and Xenon’s looked almost identical—close enough to be called twins.
Sure, there were minor differences like clothes and voice, but if he played this right, it’d be hard to tell who was who.
It wouldn’t fool them forever, but it might just buy enough time.
* * *
