Marvel: Sin Lord

It had been a month since Inarius started living with Alex, and for the first time, he felt like he had a real home. The small house wasn't fancy, but it was warm and filled with little signs of care—fresh meals, a bed with clean sheets, and even a small shelf Alex had built in Inarius's room to hold books or keepsakes.

But with that newfound stability came responsibilities, as Alex was quick to remind him.

"Inarius," Alex said one evening over dinner, setting his fork down and looking at him with the kind of serious expression that made Inarius's stomach twist. "We need to talk about school."

Inarius froze, his fork halfway to his mouth. "School?"

"Yeah. You're smart, but you can't just hang around here and train all day," Alex said, leaning back in his chair. "You're thirteen now, and it's time to get a proper education."

Inarius nodded slowly, hiding his discomfort. He'd never been to school before. His mom had never cared enough to send him, and the idea of being surrounded by kids his age was... unsettling.

"Okay," he said quietly.

Alex smiled. "Good. You start tomorrow."

The next morning, Inarius stood in front of the mirror in his room, adjusting the plain black hoodie Alex had bought him. His long black hair was tied back loosely, and he stared at his reflection, his grey eyes narrowing as if trying to gauge how much he looked like a normal kid.

He didn't feel like one.

Alex dropped him off in front of the middle school, giving him an encouraging pat on the shoulder before driving off. Inarius watched the car disappear around the corner and then turned to face the imposing school building.

"Just one day," he muttered to himself. "You can get through one day."

Inside, the halls buzzed with noise—laughing, shouting, the sound of lockers slamming shut. It was overwhelming. Inarius kept his head down as he followed the directions Alex had given him to the front office.

A kind-looking woman handed him a schedule and walked him to his first class, a small room labeled Special Education.

"We'll start you here," she said gently. "If you need anything, just let your teacher know, okay?"

Inarius nodded, stepping inside. The classroom was smaller than the others he'd passed, with only a handful of students. They looked up as he walked in, some curious, others uninterested.

The teacher, a man in his thirties with a friendly smile, introduced himself as Mr. Carter and gestured for Inarius to take a seat.

The day passed in a blur of introductions, awkward small talk, and trying not to stand out. Most of the kids in the class were nice enough, but Inarius kept his answers short, not wanting to draw too much attention.

By lunchtime, he thought he might survive the day. He carried his tray to an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria, hoping to eat in peace. But as soon as he sat down, a group of boys approached him.

"Hey, new kid," said the leader of the group, a tall boy with slicked-back hair and a letterman jacket. His name tag read Chris. "You're sitting at my table."

Inarius glanced up at him, his expression calm. "There's no name on it."

Chris narrowed his eyes, his friends snickering behind him. "What'd you say?"

"I said there's no name on it," Inarius repeated, his voice steady.

Chris slammed his hand down on the table, making the tray jump. "You think you're funny, huh?"

Inarius looked at him, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. "Not really."

The boys around Chris laughed, but it wasn't the kind of laugh that made Chris look good. He scowled, grabbing Inarius's tray and flipping it onto the floor. The food splattered across the ground, drawing the attention of nearby students.

"Oops," Chris said mockingly. "Guess you'll have to find somewhere else to sit."

Inarius didn't react. He just leaned back in his chair, his smile still faint but his grey eyes cold.

Inside, though, it was a different story. He could feel his power thrumming beneath his skin, could sense the boy's sin like a heavy fog. It whispered to him, taunting him with memories of all the times Chris had bullied kids who couldn't fight back.

It would be so easy.

One touch, one moment, and he could make Chris disappear. He could take everything—his strength, his memories, even his life.

But he didn't.

Instead, Inarius stood up slowly, brushing past Chris without a word. He left the cafeteria, ignoring the laughter and whispers that followed him.

As he walked down the empty hallway, he clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

Not here, he told himself. Not now.

But the smile stayed on his face, cold and dangerous. Chris didn't know it yet, but he'd just made a mistake.