BAY
I’m sitting in my tiny VIP box, the one I only managed to get because of Ennio, since they normally cost a fortune, staring at the cage where Luca Ferro is fighting another purple alpha named Benzo.
I don’t come here often, only when the Ferro brothers take part in the fights.
Not that I’m close to them in any way. The only thing we share is sparring sessions, and the Ferros don’t talk much to begin with.
That’s how they were raised. They never discuss anything personal, never get into anything remotely related to the mafia, and we stay strictly technical sparring buddies.
But since I’ve had the chance to fight in the cage a few times myself, there’s a bit of nostalgia in me, and that’s why every now and then I show up to watch the fights and see how much they’ve improved.
The lights flash, and the air is thick with the scent of alpha sweat and excitement.
The crowd roars, shouts, pushes the fighters on.
Everyone loves watching purple alphas even though they’re banned from shifting into their full combat imago form.
The reason is simple. The fight would end far too fast and the injuries would be way too serious, but it doesn’t change the fact that the show is still impressive when two massive human beasts slam into each other inside the cage.
Meanwhile, I lazily vape and just watch, not thinking about anything at all, simply absorbing the spectacle.
From where I’m sitting, I can also see the Ferros’ own VIP box.
Anzo usually sits there, sometimes even with his nephew and right-hand man, Rocco.
I’ve always kept my distance for that exact reason.
Ennio has never introduced me to his uncle, the capo, and I have no interest in changing that.
Knowing one member of the mafia is more than enough for me.
But when I glance over there today, I notice something different.
Anzo isn’t there, which is extremely rare, and instead I see Ennio, Eliano, Mauro, and someone else I’ve never seen before.
I can’t make out the details from this distance, but since Anzo isn’t present, it occurs to me that maybe I could walk over and say hello.
When the fighters get a short break and their trainers drench them with water, I leave my box and text Ennio so he can let the soldati guarding the entrance know I’m coming.
By the time I walk up to the door, the soldati already expect me, because they silently step aside. I open the door and walk into the box.
Just like me, Ennio is sitting there with his vape, the air carrying the familiar tang of the sedatives. I shake his hand.
Our hellos always look like this, restrained and minimal.
I say hi to Anzo’s two other nephews as well.
Eliano and I trade a complicated series of greeting gestures he taught me a year ago.
I’m not exactly middle-school age anymore, but why not.
The kid has so little fun in his life, everything revolves around training and that cold mafia upbringing, so I feel justified in giving him a moment of something a bit lighter.
Eliano doesn’t seem happy. But what’s new, he never is.
From what I know, he’d love to be a journalist, but that career just isn’t meant for him.
He’s staring gloomily at his brother Luca fighting in the cage.
He knows that in a year he’ll be the one in there.
He’ll have to fight in the junior group for the first time.
Anzo doesn’t tolerate weakness in his nephews.
They all have to be top-tier fighters. Regular martial arts training isn’t enough.
They have to learn not to fear pain, to take hits to the jaw in real situations, the kind you’ll never reproduce inside a training room where no one is fighting with the kind of desperation that comes from wanting to win at all costs.
Mauro, who is mute, simply shakes my hand and goes back to watching the arena, because Luca’s opponent is starting to gain an advantage. Benzo knocks Luca to the ground for a split second and the crowd gasps so loudly it almost rattles the railings. Luca barely pulls himself out of it.
There’s still that one new person in the box, someone completely unexpected. I’ve never seen him here before.
He’s a young omega with strange hair that’s completely silver, no, not gray—silver, and he has mismatched eyes.
I prefer not to make conversation with someone who’s sitting in a mafia box, so I don’t greet him, but his eyes lock on me with a strange intensity.
I sit next to Ennio, who throws me a sharp look.
For the past few years we’ve had a secret…
sort of cooperation, but obviously we can’t discuss any details in public, especially around his family, so I don’t bring up anything except a few simple comments about Luca’s opponent’s technique, which Ennio mostly agrees with.
We exchange a few quick remarks about what Gurco should focus on during Luca’s training, but the entire time we’re talking, I can feel that omega staring at me.
At some point Ennio notices the weird attention too, because he flicks me a look I already recognize, the kind that tells me something is up, then he makes a small circular motion with his finger near his temple.
It can mean only one thing: he’s nuts or something along those lines.
I have no idea why someone like that would even be here.
The worst part is that the intensity of that omega’s stare is starting to get uncomfortable, and something about him is shifting.
At first he was just watching me with his head tilted, but now he has turned fully toward me and is staring straight at me.
Mauro and Eliano have both noticed as well, and they exchange surprised looks with Ennio, raising their brows a little.
From their expressions I can tell that whoever this guy is, none of them understand his behavior, and what’s worse, they find it slightly amusing.
I take out my phone because whispering isn’t the best idea when alphas and omegas have exceptional hearing. I type my question for Ennio.
"Who is this weird guy and why is he staring at me?"
Ennio pulls out his phone and replies,
"Moon. He’s Anzo’s new ‘boyfriend’. He’s some kind of junkie Anzo found and claims he might be useful. Moon seems to have some clairvoyant abilities."
"I’m sorry, a junkie?" I write back. "Why would Anzo deal with someone like that?"
Ennio doesn’t answer, just shrugs and takes a drag from his vape. I do the same.
Well. Not my business.
We watch the fight for a moment. Benzo and Luca have been going at it for twenty minutes already, shoving each other against the cage bars hard enough that the metallic rattling carries out over the crowd.
After a while the omega’s relentless staring starts to mess with my nerves.
Eventually I can’t take it anymore. I slowly turn his way and give him a questioning look.
Unfortunately, it’s a mistake. It only seems to trigger him.
Suddenly he makes a sound somewhere between a snort and a hiss, like some kind of wild animal.
"You!"
"Yes?" I answer.
Ennio, Mauro, and Eliano are all looking at us now. I can see confusion all over the younger brothers’ faces.
"Your wings are broken, broken, but they can’t manifest because you gave away part of your soul!"
"Is this some kind of poem?" I say with a polite smile.
"You’re blocking it. You’re blocking the future. I’m trying to see it, but you’re blocking it."
He looks like he’s straining, turning red, rubbing his temples.
"So there’s more? Interesting poem. As it happens, I also dabble in poetry and writing lyrics…"
Suddenly the strange omega bends back slightly, like some kind of possessed oracle, the whites of his eyes rolling, a harsh sound rattling in his throat as he lifts his hands and yanks at his own hair.
Ennio and I exchange a meaningful look because the whole thing is starting to feel like a mental ward scene.
"Save us. Save us all, Bay!" he screams, and I stare at him, stunned.
What the hell is this? And how does he know my name?
"Whirl, whirl, a great whirl, save us, save us from it! That’s why you were sent here, to save us all, Bay. TO SAVE US ALL!" he howls, not caring about the commotion he’s causing. Ennio quickly lowers the glass pane to mute the madcap show.
"Whirl, whirl, my broth—!"
"Sorry, I have no idea what you’re talking about," I say, trying to stay polite.
But then something unexpected happens…
Moon launches himself at me and grabs a fistful of my shirt. He yanks me forward with surprising strength, shouting at the top of his lungs,
"Bring us back to life, Bay! Bring us back to life, Bay! Bring us back to life!"
I’ll admit that even though I’m afraid of very few people, there’s something almost terrifying about him.
His eyes seem to burn, but luckily all the Ferros in the box jump up.
Mauro and Eliano grab Moon and pull him off me, but he keeps twisting and screaming, flailing his arms, still trying to reach in my direction while they drag him back toward his seat.
"A fallen angel with broken wings!" he howls. "You have to save us, you have to save us, bring us back to life, Bay, bring us back to life!"
"Okay, I think it’s time for me to get the hell out of this box," I mutter to Ennio.
He seems to agree, because he stands.
"I’ll go with you."
Meanwhile Moon is pinned between Eliano and Mauro, shrieking, pressing his hands to his temples and grinding his teeth like someone possessed. They both seem to be putting considerable effort into holding back just one omega, which is quite significant.
"You’re blocking my visions. Stop blocking them! You have to save us, so stop blocking them, maybe I could help you, stop, stop…"
Ennio and I walk out, leaving that madhouse behind.
Once we’re a decent distance from the soldati outside, who absolutely heard all that screaming and are staring at us in shock, I mutter to Ennio,
"Phew. That was next-level weird. Who is that mental case? Why is Anzo letting him get high and wander around like that?"