The Five Evolution

『"Paranoid."』

Bolivar Brovonski’s apartment building was exactly what you’d expect from someone who’d spent six months hiring assassins through the dark web: paranoid and fortified.

Amara and Ethan stepped out of the van and stood outside the warehouse district building at 3:47 AM, studying the security cameras, the reinforced door, and the bars on the windows.

"Looks like Bolivar isn’t taking chances with whoever might come looking," Amara observed.

"He knew someone might track him eventually," Ethan dusted his jacket and grinned. "Babe, what’s the play?"

"Let’s see." Amara studied the building’s structure. "Three floors. Bolivar’s most likely on the top floor according to the signal trace. Probably has an escape route planned."

"Multiple exits, reinforced safe room, panic button installed but—" Ethan pulled up building schematics on his phone. "It’s not connected. No police alerts either. He’s not planning to call for help."

"Because he can’t. Whatever he’s doing is illegal enough that involving authorities isn’t an option." Amara moved toward the entrance. "I don’t want to give this guy time to run or destroy evidence."

"Through the back?"

"I was thinking more direct." She raised Angel’s Bane and cut, slicing through the reinforced door like it was butter. The steel, the locks, the frame, all of it simply cut down.

The door swung open as the hinges no longer had anything to hold closed.

"I also love when you do that," Ethan said.

"I know."

They entered the building, moving quickly up the stairs. There were surprisingly no guards or security, just empty hallways.

Either Bolivar lived alone or he’d cleared the building for privacy.

The top floor had one door. Reinforced with an electronic lock, and a camera pointed directly at the entrance.

Amara looked at Ethan. "He knows we’re here."

"Probably knew the moment we cut through the front door." Ethan’s shields expanded, covering both of them in overlapping barriers.

She placed her free hand on her hip. "But seriously, all this security, and no guards?"

"Maybe he doesn’t trust hired help not to sell him out." Ethan looked at her. "Could be a trap though."

"Only one way to find out."

She cut through the door, and the moment they crossed the threshold, shots were fired at them.

The shooter’s hands shook so bad, the gun rattled. He knew it was useless, but he kept firing anyway.

One by one, the bullets smashed into Ethan’s shield mid-air, flattening instantly against it. The impacts echoed through the room as the bullets dropped harmlessly to the floor.

Bolivar stood frozen, gun still raised, breathing sharp and uneven.

Ethan exhaled once.

Bolivar panicked again. His grip tightened, but before he could adjust, Ethan lifted a hand, and a translucent construct formed around Bolivar’s wrist, locking his arm mid-motion.

Then it expanded outward, swallowing the gun in a tightening field of structured energy. No matter how hard Bolivar yanked, the gun didn’t budge.

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "Really?" He closed his fist.

The construct shifted and forced the gun free, dropping it uselessly to the floor as both of them approached slowly afterwards.

With the immediate threat neutralized, Amara took in her surroundings. And when she did, it was chaos.

Papers were everywhere. Maps covered the walls. Photos were pinned in clusters.

A conspiracy board that could have been Hiro’s, except this one was dedicated to tracking potential Awakeners across the city and beyond.

"Please! Please don’t hurt me! I’ll cooperate!" Bolivar’s two hands shot up immediately.

The man who had fired at them moments ago looked nothing like his professional headshot. The businessman facade had been replaced by someone who clearly hadn’t slept in days, and hadn’t shaved in longer.

Stubble cut across his jaw in patches, the bags under his eyes were purple, his shirt had three days of wrinkles pressed into it, and there was a half-eaten meal on the desk that had clearly been there long enough to grow cold twice.

He held his hands up in surrender, trembling. "I know why you’re here," he said quickly. "The Patel girl. I posted the job. I paid for the hit. I’ll confess everything, just... please don’t kill me."

Amara kept her blade raised. "Why would we kill you?"

"Because that’s what Awakeners do!" Bolivar’s voice cracked. "You’re all monsters waiting to happen! Every single one of you! You get these powers and you think it makes you special, but you just destroy everything you touch!"

"Hmm," Ethan grunted, his eyes sweeping through the room. No other weapons or immediate threats were visible. Just a terrified man surrounded by evidence of obsession.

"My daughter." Bolivar’s eyes filled with tears as he delved into a story no one asked for. "Melissa," he started. "She was sixteen when she awakened. A Contractor-type."

Amara’s blade dissolved as she folded her hands and made a choice to simply listen to whatever he had to say.

"She made a deal with something she didn’t understand." Bolivar shook as he spoke. "Thought she was special. Thought she could handle the power."

He gestured to a photo on the wall which displayed a teenage girl with her father’s features, smiling innocently at the camera.

"Three months after her awakening, she lost control during a training exercise. The entity she’d contracted with took over. Seventeen people..." He started sobbing, taking off his glasses.

"Seventeen people died before the Institute put her down like a rabid dog." His voice broke completely. "My baby girl. Sixteen years old. Dead because she became a monster like you."

Amara felt something twist in her chest. "I’m sorry—"

"Sorry doesn’t bring her back!" Bolivar stood up, no longer cowering, but defiant in his grief. "Sorry doesn’t change the fact that being an Awakener killed my daughter!"

He jabbed a finger toward Amara. "That the Institute failed to protect her! That these powers are a curse, not a gift!"

"So murder," Ethan said flatly. "That’s your solution?"

"I’m preventing tragedies! Saving families from the pain I went through!" Bolivar grabbed a folder from his desk, threw it at them. Photos of other people spilled out, each one marked with a red X.

"Six confirmed eliminations. Twelve more I’m tracking. Every single one would have awakened within months. Every single one would have become a potential disaster."

Ethan folded his arm. "Six people?"

Bolivar frowned. "Not people. Potential Awakeners... potential disasters."

"You have no right to decide that," Amara said, keeping her emotions in check as anger threatened to build up in her chest.

"You’re naive." Bolivar laughed bitterly. "You think you’re different. Think you’re special. But you’re just another ticking time bomb waiting to go off. The Five? You’re the worst of all."

"How do you know?" Amara asked suddenly, ignoring everything else he said. "How do you know who’s about to awaken?"

Bolivar’s expression shifted, wariness creeping in as he put his glasses back on. "I have my connections."

Angel’s Bane hummed. "Bullshit."

Bolivar winced. "I..." he hesitated. "I’m an Awakener."