Wolfram

Jake had a bad feeling about the encounter. He hadn't wanted to hurt the small-time villain, but something about the way the man had acted didn't sit right with him. Maybe it was the desperation in his eyes, or the way he'd almost seemed too eager to escape without giving any real answers.

But in the end, Jake made the choice to let him go. After all, the man wasn't the real threat. It was Dreadstone and his operatives that Jake needed to focus on. 

Still, as they made their way back to their makeshift base, Jake couldn't shake the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't put his finger on it, but he knew he had made a mistake somewhere along the way.

"Jake," Lucy said, breaking his thoughts as they walked through the darkened streets. "We need to hit Dreadstone fast. The longer we wait, the more he'll get a grip on whatever this serum is."

Jake nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. "Yeah, I know. I just… something feels off about that guy. The small-time villain. I don't think he's telling us everything."

Lucy shot him a sideways glance. "We'll figure it out. We have bigger problems right now."

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but the sound of something heavy scraping along the ground cut him off. A low, metallic screech echoed through the night air.

Both of them froze.

"Did you hear that?" Lucy asked, voice tight with tension.

Jake's eyes scanned the area around them. It was dark, the only light coming from a distant streetlamp. Nothing moved. Then, there was a thud—a soft, unmistakable noise.

"I think we're not alone," Jake muttered. He instinctively flexed his tungsten arm, feeling the weight of the metal settle into his muscles. 

Before Lucy could respond, a loud *crack* rang out behind them. Jake spun around just in time to see the small-time villain—the one they had let go earlier—stumbling out of the shadows, blood dripping from his face, his eyes wide with terror.

"Jake!" the man screamed, voice raw. "They're coming for me! I didn't—didn't mean to—" 

His words were cut off as he collapsed to the ground, his hands clutching his chest. Blood pooled around him as his body spasmed, jerking unnaturally. His eyes met Jake's in a final, pleading gaze.

Jake's stomach churned. "What the hell?" he whispered, kneeling beside the man, but he was already fading, his breaths ragged and shallow.

Lucy's voice was tight, filled with disbelief. "I thought you let him go!"

"I did," Jake said, his heart hammering in his chest. He reached out instinctively, but the man's hand was already cold.

The villain's last words were barely audible. "Dreadstone... he knows you're here. He... he knows about the serum..." 

With one final, weak exhale, the man went limp, his life snuffed out like a candle in the wind.

Jake stared at him for a long moment, the weight of his decision settling like a stone in his chest. He could have stopped this. He should have asked more questions, followed his gut instinct. But instead, he had let him go. And now that mistake had cost someone else their life.

"Jake, we need to move," Lucy said, her voice breaking through his thoughts. She was already scanning the surrounding area, tense, alert. "This isn't just about Dreadstone anymore. Someone's hunting you, and they're getting closer."

Jake shook his head, his emotions rising like a flood. "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't—"

"You *didn't* kill him," Lucy interjected, her voice firm but sympathetic. "But you're right about one thing: this isn't over. And it's not going to stop unless we make it stop."

Jake clenched his fists, feeling the tungsten pulse in his arm. He looked at the lifeless body of the man who had been just a small-time thief, someone who had only tried to escape his own situation. And now, because of his mistake, that man was dead.

He couldn't let that go.

Jake stood up, his face hardening. "I *will* make it stop. No one else is going to die because of me."