Slowing as he reached the area, he hovered far above the police station. He immediately noticed the crowd of onlookers still present, but added to them was a series of firefighters and ambulances.

  While the firefighters rushed into the building in search of people they wouldn't find, others tried to put out the fire that was now a raging inferno, some using water magic and others using a hose on the truck.

  While the paramedics were standing around confused, thinking about how severe the people's injuries were going to be when they came out, others were picking up on the fact they weren't hearing any screams coming from inside.

  But what caught his attention was when a firefighter ran out of the burning building with an older-looking man in tow. "It's a royal," he could hear him shout.

  "He's barely breathing," he said as he put him on the ground. "Call the commander and ask him what we should."

  "Was there anyone else in there?" Another firefighter asked, but just as he asked, a team of them came rushing out of the fire.

  "There's no one in there; it's completely empty," one shouted, unintentionally answering others' questions.

  "Where did they go—" the firefighter who was carrying the royal said before abruptly pausing as a terrible thought crossed his mind.

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  "Was it him?" he questioned as he looked, not daring to speak it aloud.

  And as if the universe was confirming his thought, the royal's eyes suddenly shot up, and he immediately sent out a ball of fire at the firefighter, sending him flying back and crashing hard into the ground.

  "Wait, sir," he tried to say as he felt the skin on his chest lightly burned and his protective gear all but incinerated from taking that attack.

  "You filthy dog," he said through agonizing coughs. "You dare......You dare...You dare look down on me!he finally got out as he stood up with great struggle.

  "No sir, I would never—" he tried to say, only to be cut off.

  "Shut your mouth. Did I give you permission to speak?!" he said in a gravelly voice.

  "Sir, please, we're just trying to save you," a female firefighter said, stopping what she was doing and running over.

  "No, Alice—" he yelled while reaching his hand out, but he knew even before the flame erupted from Royal's hands in a cylinder of death. He knew that woman, his high school sweetheart, his wife, who got into this job all because she didn't want him to brave the risk alone, the proud loving mother of his kids...was going to die.

  Slamming his eyes shut as he saw the flame erupt, he awaited to hear her screams of agony and the last desperate call of his name.

  But it didn't happen; he heard nothing. "Did he disintegrate her?" He thought his mind knew no other possibility, but his eyes opened before his mind could tell them not to, curiosity beating his fear of the worst.

  But when his eyes opened, what he saw baffled him. In front of his wife stood a boy no older than 17 or 18, with gray hair and eyes the same, along with skin as pale as death, which seemed to shine in the moonlight.

  And though he had a million questions, only one thought crossed his mind first.

  "Thank you."