Scene 2 – The Collision
Jay vanished in a burst of heat so dense the air screamed.
The world warped around him as he surged forward—not through space, but through will. Fire coiled around his skeletal form, and every breath he drew deepened the inferno in his chest.
He didn't see the city.
He saw Angela's hand in his.
He saw her smile.
He saw her corpse.
He found Reaper mid-step, mid-phase—just slipping into shadow.
Jay ripped him out of it.
One clawed hand punched through the smoke, gripped Reaper's throat, and dragged him back into the flesh. Reaper barely had time to scream before his body hit the wall with the force of a collapsing building.
CRACK.
Ribs. Concrete. Confidence.
Gone.
"You." Jay's voice wasn't a word. It was a verdict.
Reaper blinked up at him, mask cracked down the middle, shadows trying to gather around his body.
Jay squeezed.
Reaper's feet kicked weakly. He tried to phase.
Jay followed him into it.
Smoke met fire.
And fire won.
Inside the PhaseThe shadow was cold, safe, a place Reaper had slipped into thousands of times.
But this time…
The shadows were burning.
Jay was inside it with him—his skeletal fingers buried in Reaper's intangible throat, searing down to where flesh became memory.
"You don't get to leave," Jay whispered, voice vibrating through every molecule of the phase.
"You don't get to die clean."
He dragged him back out—and the phase shattered.
Reaper collapsed onto the pavement, screaming. His body tried to reform—but Jay was already on him.
He punched into Reaper's chest, grabbed something that wasn't just muscle, and pulled.
Reaper's soul flared against the flames—burned with a scream that didn't come from lungs, but from everything he was.
"I watched her die."
"Now you will die watching yourself."
Jay lifted Reaper into the air by his jaw—held him like a trophy—then tore out his throat in one fluid motion. Regeneration sparked.
Jay burned it again.
Again.
Again.
Every time it healed, Jay's fire licked deeper—burning past nerves, past cells, down to the truth of Reaper's existence.
Reaper clawed at him, fading into flickers of shadow—but he couldn't leave.
Jay wouldn't let him.
Reaper writhed on the pavement, cloak in tatters, smoke leaking from wounds that wouldn't close. His mask had melted into the bone beneath. One eye socket was exposed—bleeding vapor and flame.
Jay stood over him.
A silent god of fire and judgment.
Reaper raised a trembling hand—not to fight. Not to phase. Just instinct.
Jay kicked it aside.
"You killed her."
No rage in his voice. No scream.
Just finality. Cold. Certain.
"And now… I unmake you."
He crouched beside him—knee pressing down on Reaper's chest, ribs cracking again beneath the weight.
Then, slowly—deliberately—Jay reached into Reaper's chest.
Not physically.
Not magically.
Spiritually.
Flames sank through flesh like water through ash, until his hand grasped something deeper—the core of Gabriel Reyes, the soul twisted into shadow.
Reaper choked, eyes widening in pure fear.
"What are you doing…?"
Jay leaned in, flames dancing around his skeletal face, voice a whisper:
"Giving you everything you gave her…"
"…but slower."
And then he pulled.
Reaper screamed—a scream that split the air, bent the buildings, shattered nearby windows.
His body arched. Fire licked out of his mouth. His shadow form flickered violently—then began to burn away in pieces.
The cloak first.
Then the mask.
Then the arms, legs, ribs.
Until there was nothing left but the soul.
And Jay held it in his hand.
A flickering, shivering, broken thing.
"Feel it."
He clenched his fist.
The soul imploded in blue flame, screaming as it died.
And just like that—
Gabriel Reyes was gone.
No smoke.
No corpse.
No second chance.
Just dust on the wind.
Jay stood slowly, the fire around him quiet now—still licking the sky, but less like a storm, more like a crown.
He looked down at the spot where Reaper had died.
A scorch mark in the shape of a human being. Nothing else.
No words.
Just one long, slow exhale—steam, not breath.
He turned toward the city.
And walked on.