One of the buildings adjacent to Miasma’s headquarters was a parking garage. Unlike the rest of the complex, there was nothing beautiful about the concrete expanse. It was a difficult thing to beautify a parking garage, and there was no need to do so anyway.

  Six floors of asphalt planes with ramps going between them meant there was plenty of space for parking. A little too much, actually, considering how little Starborn actually drove to and from Miasma, as most of them lived in the residential facilities in the same complex. The car park was almost exclusively for visitors and vanity.

  One vehicle in there fit under both of those umbrellas. A long black limousine with tinted windows sat unattended on the top floor of the garage, after the driver dropped Chorzo and his guests off at the main hall and parked it here.

  Since then, no one had come to the limousine, or even the parking garage. However, that didn’t mean there was no life to be found there.

  In the back of the limousine was a large trunk, modified to have the capabilities to carry large things that wouldn’t normally fit in the small trunk space of most sedans. In the trunk, two caskets of soot sat, one stacked on top of the other.

  The bottom casket contained the one-time hotel receptionist Hel. He was groaning in pain that came from the four large holes in each of his hands and feet, left behind after that bitch with the ice powers impaled him. He wanted to grab each of the places where he was impaled, but there was little room in the casket to do so. Instead, he spent most of his time silently cursing the two Starborn he dared to make enemies of.

  He wondered where it all went wrong. The plan was sound. Forcing the orange-tier to come out and trap her with the aid of an equally strong Satellite had been successful. The altercation that came immediately after was decidedly not successful.

  The woman was far more than just a pretty everything. She fought like a demon, like she had lived her entire life fighting. With her barrage of ice attacks and domineering sword style, it was like she was a harsh winter, bringing with her widespread death. Hel considered himself among the better half of red-tier Starborn, but the woman he wanted to make his completely destroyed him.

  It was enough to realize he wouldn’t be a match for her.

  Of course, that didn’t make him any less attracted to her. He was drawn to the power she displayed.

  Admittedly, he realized that he should have realized that the woman was a Starborn by her incredible appearance. Her unbelievably good looks were something only given to Starborn, descendants of a Starborn family, or a world class model, and Hel would have preferred not to antagonize any of those forces.

  Hel had to wonder why she was with that guy. He wasn't bad, but he wasn't all that great either. Certainly not a match for that sexy beast of a woman. Hel was certain that he would beat that guy in a straight fight. The only interesting thing about him was his enigmatic power, in that Hel had no clue what it was. From how quickly he healed from Hel’s attack and how resilient he was to Yaan’s flames, he was confident that it was a defensive or healing ability.

  At least, that was Hel’s best bet. Though the mad muttering of Yaan in the casket above him gave him pause for thought. Hel was defeated and rendered unconscious before the conclusion of Yaan’s fight, so he didn’t know what the boyfriend did to Yaan to put him in that state.

  Nor did he care.

  He met Yaan by chance during the cascade, as they both saw the influx of celestials as an opportunity to harvest star cores. Yaan, as the exiled prince of Miasma, was a good ally to have in times of crisis, like the cascade. They hunted together during the cascade and respected each other’s skills, but that was it.

  Hel couldn’t stand the man. Hel thought that he was lustful himself, but the exiled prince showed him what true lust was. After a while of seeing what Yaan did almost daily, Hel came to realize that it wasn’t about satiating his thirst. It was about marking his territory. Claiming control of the world around him. Yaan had a need to be seen as the king, so he had to assert dominance over everything and everyone.

  Hel sighed, temporarily forgetting the pain. He loathed himself for actually being desperate enough to orchestrate a kidnapping attempt out of jealousy and being horny.

  This was the first time he had gone this far, and it ended in disaster. Hel felt that he would deserve whatever happened next. Whatever price he would have to pay, he would accept it. That would be the only way to begin to redeem himself. He wouldn’t be absolved, but it would be a start.

  There was one thing he knew he would do.

  Hel would tell his captors everything about Yaan’s operations. He didn’t know much, only where he hid most of the time. He’d never gone, but Yaan had bragged many times about his exploits and his spoils.

  Hel smirked.

  It would be good to sell out that piece of trash.

  Hel did his best to remain comfortable in the coffin, a herculean task given he had four holes inside of him. His powers wouldn’t help him out of here, plus it would render any promises of redemption moot even if they could.

  As Yaan’s manic babbling started once more, Hel was about to tell him to shut up, and let people accept their losses in silence, when he heard the unmistakable sound of the trunk opening.

  Yaan’s noises ceased as the person who opened the trunk stood in front of the caskets. Hel waited with baited breath wondering what would come next. After a long pause, the person outside the car spoke with a deep angry voice.

  “You have a lot to answer for, Yaan.”

  Hel felt something fall on top of his casket and realized that Chorzo must have gotten rid of Yaan’s. Yaan chuckled lightly.

  “I don’t see what the problem is Uncle Chorzo. There was someone who insulted Miasma, so I went to take care of them. Is that so wrong?”

  “Bullshit,” Hel said from his coffin. “You went there for the same reason you do everything: to get laid. Same goes for me.”

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  Chorzo ignored the bottom casket for now.

  “The only insult to Miasma is you, Yaan. You were trained from a young age on how to fight, and how to be a proper Starborn. You lack severely in both respects.”

  “Uncle!”

  “You’ve always squandered your talents. I had hoped that you would grow out of it when you became a Starborn or when you saw the destruction from the cascade. That was your chance to prove that you knew what it means to be a Starborn, and you threw it away. You didn't even have to do anything. Even if you didn’t join in the defense efforts, you could have just sat in your cell and waited for everything to blow over. Instead, you chose your hedonism over anything that could have helped you.”

  “But we’re special!” Yaan yelled back. “We were chosen to be granted powers! I was chosen! That makes us better than the rest! You’re one of the strongest ones, so why can’t you see that!?”

  A powerful smack resounded above Hel, followed by a yelp of pain. Hel flinched from the sound. It sounded much stronger than the one he had been hit with. Just another reminder that the ire of an orange-tier was best avoided.

  “By remembering that we Starborn exist to keep the world safe, you ingrate! Not to fulfill our own ambitions!”

  “I have been keeping the world safe! I killed enough Celestials during the cascade to become a main sequence! I absorbed over 1000 cores, so don't lecture me about ‘making a difference!’”

  “The only difference you’ve made is the perception of Miasma! Only once you were gone did our reputation increase. Any time you did anything on our own, it would be an embarrassment. You’ve embarrassed the guild, and your family. Your parents can’t even bear to look at you anymore. They don’t see their son in you anymore.”

  “If I’m such a disappointment when I'm here, then just let me go!”

  “That’s not going to happen Yaan. I don’t have a full grasp on your crimes, but I know how heinous some of them were. You killed one of your own bodyguards by caving his head in with a brick. No matter how bad you’ve made the guild look, we will keep you here, because you will only be worse on the outside. This is how I can keep the world safe.”

  “You can’t! I'm a main-sequence! The guild needs strong Starborn!”

  Chorzo sighed and shook his head at his pitiful nephew.

  “Make up your mind. Do you want to stay with the guild, or do you want to roam free? And we ‘need’ Starborn? You’ve been out of touch with the guild for almost two months. We have a surplus of fresh recruits now. We had a surplus before you left as well, but you were too blinded by your own ego to even notice them.”

  “I’m stronger than them!”

  “Yet here you lay after being beaten. Can you really say you're strong now that your hands are gone?”

  “The healer guy can heal me!”

  “The healer guy has a name, and it's Santos. He’s busy healing the person who left you like this. All of the doctors are. That person fought you to defend a restaurant full of mundanes. It’s fairly obvious who is the real Starborn between the two of you.”

  “Arden is nothing! Just a puny street rat! A fly I can swat away at any time!”

  “Is he now? So you put a bounty on him when he was a mundane because…?”

  Yaan gnashed his teeth in fury. But his uncle didn’t stop. And he wouldn't, no matter how incensed Yaan became. This was something he deserved. Chorzo hated that he had to be the one to do it.

  “You forced your men to beat on him, and when you finally got your power, the first thing you did was use them on him. You are scum, Yaan. You put a bounty on a mundane person when he fought back against you. You should have been grateful that he only took a few fingers then. Santos healed you then, and you can’t even remember his name.”

  “Arden deserves everything that happens to him!” Yaan raged. “He hid a Blight Walker from the world! You know how dangerous they are! They aren't supposed to be near people because the Blight will spread from them!”

  “Who are you to care for the safety of civilians? Besides, do you think we didn’t know that? Why do you think he lived so far out in the slums? It was to keep everyone as safe as possible. He lived with his Blight Walker sister for years, so far out in the slums that he would have been the only one at risk.”

  There was a brief pause in the argument as Yaan and Hel digested what Chorzo said. The more Hel learned about the boyfriend, this Arden character, the more respect he came to have for him. Yaan, on the other hand, felt nothing of the sort. He felt betrayed.

  “...How do you know that much about him?”

  “It’s only natural for me to keep tabs on someone who spends a lot of time with my nephew, albeit involuntarily. He surprised me a lot. Honestly, I’ve wanted him in the guild for a while now. Even more now that he’s a Starborn. Arden is something that Miamsa was meant to represent: a collection of the marginalized.”

  “He’s not special!”

  “For once, you are right. He’s the kind of person you can find anywhere in the slums. A person orphaned by Celestials with a history of Blighted family members. Underfed and overburdened. That’s what makes him ideal. Unfortunately, I doubt we’ll be able to hash out a deal with him. He’s going places, for sure. That’s if he survives the hellfire stigmata you placed on him.”

  Yaan laughed like a psycho. Spit flew from his mouth as he did so.

  “That’s going to be a pretty big ‘if,’ Uncle! Only I can deactivate the ability with a touch, and take a look at me! My hands are gone now, and Arden will soon follow!”

  Chorzo sighed again.

  “This has always been your biggest problem, Yaan. You think you are superior to everyone, so you underestimate everyone. You underestimated Arden when he was a mundane and he took off a few of your fingers. You underestimated him tonight, and your arms were taken by a Starborn not even a full day old.”

  He let those last words hang in the air, and it was enough to shut Yaan up. Disbelief showed on his face, as it did for Hel inside his coffin.

  “Starborn for a day?” Hel muttered. ‘Is that possible?’

  Chorzo continued.

  “And true to form, you still underestimate him. You placed the stigmata on him during your fight and have been waiting for it to take effect. You probably figured he would succumb within a few minutes. It’s been close to an hour and he just collapsed a few minutes ago.”

  A wicked smile crossed Yaan’s face as he heard the news. He couldn’t wait to hear of his passing next. The smile was knocked off of his face with another slap from his uncle.

  “You’re still doing it now. Haven’t you noticed that every time you underestimate him, he always beats you?”

  “Nothing gets out of a hellfire stigmata, Uncle.”

  “People from the slums don’t become Starborn, either. And that didn’t stop him. Why do you think a hellfire stigmata will be any different?”

  “Why do you believe in him so much? It’s a hell-fire stig-ma-ta,” Yaan repeated, emphasizing each syllable from the last two words.

  “It's not that I believe in him. As you've said, I've only just met him.”

  Chorzo looked down at Yaan with pity. He struck his nephew in the back of the neck, knocking him out. When Yaan went limp, a coffin was created around him again.

  “It's just… I no longer believe in you.”