Infinity Son

The strongest power above all is a living heart. Humanity is what makes heroes, not powers. The strongest power above all is a living heart. Humanity is what makes heroes, not powers.

The strongest power is humanity.

We stare each other down like a game of chess that’s hit stalemate. Both kings live but no one wins.

“You should only feel beautiful to yourself,” Ness says. “And only be with someone who gets that you’re beautiful because of who you are. Look, firefly, the first night I saw you I almost broke concentration and morphed back into myself. Make of that what you will.”

“I don’t need you to tell me how skinny or strong I am, I get it, but it’s this voice in my head that—”

“That needs to shut up,” Ness interrupts.

“I’m not used to someone who looks like you asking me to remove my shirt.”

“Someone who looks like me?”

“Your face is solid and you’re no doubt on top of the rest of your body too.”

“You trying to call me cute and fit?” Ness asks with the hint of a smile.

“In my own words.”

“Stay close, firefly. I’m going to get you out of here,” he whispers.

But there’s one that strikes hardest.

Gray light. Taller than me, hazel eyes, curlier hair, a face that I’ve never seen smile but hope I will. Emil Rey. Firefly. But I got him all wrong. He’s too clean, too perfect. He’s been ruined tonight—I ruined him.

I don’t want to, but I add the scars to my glamour and stare.

I will forever be haunted by the tears that filled his hazel eyes, the spit building over his lips, his cheeks flushing as he screamed for death, and his blood on my hands.

Gray light.

I’m me again. I wish I wasn’t.

“You’re fascinating,” Eduardo says. He’s eyeing me with pure wonder. “I’m in the business of never being seen more than once, but we’ve crossed paths serendipitously multiple times already.”

Brighton inhales a deep breath. “Do you think Bautista is Emil’s past life?”

“That’s impossi—”

I shut up.

Everything that should’ve been impossible today is proving itself extra possible.

“The timeline adds up,” Iris says. “Bautista died, and you were born days later.”

“Reborn,” Maribelle breathes as she stares at me in awe.