Xavier was tired of being dormant. The weight of waiting, hiding, and surviving had become unbearable. He hadn't bled in weeks. He hadn't made anyone sweat from just a stare. He was living like a shadow of himself under Leonard's careful watch, clean sheets, filtered air, filtered company.
He needed to go out, see the city. Yes he knew he was a ghost- a dead man but he had a life and he still had one. He missed going to shooting ranges, sure being in the penthouse gave him time to plot but he got bored most of the time. He was tired of Netflix and TikTok.
Tonight, the rules changed.
He pulled a navy jacket over his broad shoulders, then adjusted his cuffs and picked up a black and gold mask. One last look in the mirror. The face of a man who should've been dead. Still breathing. Still capable. He was still Xavier, King of the street.
He walked out, unsure where the guards were. It made his plan easier. He didn't have to strangle their necks or give him a sleepy drug.
