Chapter 3: The chase

Silent as a whispering breeze, I approached the thug whose attention remained fixed on Briyo, his guard momentarily lowered. With calculated precision, I lunged forward, my movements a blend of grace and ferocity. My hand found his throat, fingers tightening like a vice, cutting off his protest with a choked gasp. Swiftly, I incapacitated him, rendering him unconscious before he even realized he was under attack. His body crumpled to the ground, a mere shadow of the threat he had posed moments before.

My focus shifted instantly to the other thug, now seizing Briyo with a menacing grip. I moved like a shadow, attempting to close the distance unnoticed, but he sensed my approach. With a sharp twist, he evaded my initial attack, releasing Briyo who stumbled back, gasping for air.

His eyes narrowed, a mix of anger and realization flashing across his face as he glanced around. The sight of his fallen comrades on the ground fueled his fury, his muscles tensing as he prepared to retaliate.

"How dare you, brat!" he spat, his voice venomous. He lunged at me, fists flying, but my instincts kicked in, guiding my movements like a well-choreographed dance. I dodged his blows with fluid grace, my body responding to the threat with a primal finesse. With a lightning-quick strike, I incapacitated him, his eyes rolling back as he crumpled to the ground, joining his companions in unconsciousness.

Breathing heavily, I turned my attention to Briyo, shouting to be heard over the echoes of the battle. "Hey, Briyo, are you with me?"

"Yeah, I'm okay, just a couple of bruises here and there," he replied, his voice strained but determined. "That was amazing. How did you pull that off?"

"I don't know," I confessed, my voice tinged with disbelief. "In the heat of that brawl, I just felt my body move by itself, and I followed the flow."

"Damn, son, you must have been a heavy hitter before you lost your memories. I'm glad I'm on your side," Briyo said, his tone a mix of admiration and relief. "But we've got to get the hell out of here before they wake up."

I nodded in agreement, extending a hand to help Briyo to his feet. As we made our escape from the darkened alley, I couldn't shake off the feeling that something within me had awakened, something powerful and primal, a force that had guided my actions in the face of danger. The encounter had changed something fundamental within me, leaving me with a sense of both awe and trepidation about the mysterious depths of my own abilities.

---Penguins---

In the dimly lit chambers of the Iceberg Lounge, the notorious Penguin, Oswald Cobblepot, stared at the battered thugs before him, his monocle gleaming in the dim light. "What? You're telling me a puny little guy did this much damage?" he scoffed, his tone a dangerous blend of disbelief and irritation.

The thugs shifted uncomfortably under Penguin's icy gaze, their faces bruised and bloodied from the encounter with the mysterious force that had thwarted their mission. One of them, a burly man with a swollen eye, stammered, "Boss, he was like a whirlwind. We didn't stand a chance. He took us down before we could even react."

Penguin's expression darkened as he considered the implications of their failure. "Explain yourselves. How could a mere nobody overpower you? What did he look like?" he demanded, his voice laced with menace.

Another thug, his lip split and oozing blood, spoke up. "Boss, he was fast, like lightning. We couldn't see his face clearly. All we know is that he fought with a ferocity we've never seen before. He moved with purpose, as if he had a vendetta against us."

Penguin's eyes narrowed, his mind working swiftly to process the information. "Find out who this little nuisance is. I want to know everything about him—his name, his background, his weaknesses. I want him found, and I want him brought to me," he ordered, his voice carrying the weight of his authority.

The thugs nodded hurriedly, their fear of Penguin's wrath evident in their eyes as they scurried out of the room to carry out his command. Alone in the dimness of his lair, Penguin seethed with anger, his mind consumed by thoughts of retribution.

In the dark underbelly of Gotham, a name echoed through the whispers of the streets—Ace. A mysterious figure, now a target in the eyes of the Penguin, stood at the center of an unfolding storm. Unbeknownst to Ace, the wheels of fate had been set into motion, propelling him further into the heart of Gotham's intricate web of power and peril. Little did he know, his encounter with Penguin's wrath was just the beginning of a dangerous game that would test his newfound abilities and resilience in ways he had never imagined.

---Ace---

A day had passed since the encounter with Penguin's henchmen. I had attempted to replicate the precise moves that had saved us during the brawl, but my efforts proved futile. It became apparent that my fighting instincts were triggered only in moments of imminent danger.

Despite narrowly escaping the chaos with minimal injuries, the haul we had obtained from the safe was lost in the confusion. All we had left was a crumpled $10 note that Briyo had cunningly concealed in his pocket when the Penguin's goons had stormed in. This meant our dreams remained unfulfilled, slipping through our fingers like sand as we struggled to make ends meet in the unforgiving streets of Gotham.

I sat in my makeshift tent, a feeble sanctuary in the heart of the slums, my thoughts entwined with the events of the past day. The voice of my friend, Briyo, sliced through the stillness like a beacon of familiarity.

"Yoh Ace, what's up?" he called, his footsteps crunching on the gravel as he approached my humble abode.

"Nothing much, man. Just chilling, trying to figure out how and what happened yesterday," I replied, my voice carrying the weight of the unanswered questions that lingered in the air.

"Don't think too much about it. As long as we were able to make it out, it's all good with me," Briyo said, his tone a mix of reassurance and camaraderie. His presence brought a sense of solace, a reminder that amidst the chaos of our lives, we had each other.

"I know, but, man, imagine if things hadn't gone as they did yesterday. Today, we would be living life to the fullest," I said, my voice trailing off as I allowed myself to indulge in the fleeting fantasy of a different reality. A life where I wasn't sleeping in tattered rags, a life with warmth, a comfortable bed, and a stomach fully fed.

"Yeah, I feel you, bro," Briyo replied, his voice tinged with a hint of longing. In that shared moment of contemplation, our dreams hung in the air, suspended like stars in the night sky, distant yet flickering with the promise of a better tomorrow.

But in the depths of Gotham's unforgiving shadows, dreams were fragile, delicate things, easily shattered by the harsh reality that surrounded us. As the night pressed on, Briyo and I retreated into our thoughts, each of us silently grappling with the desire for a life beyond the slums, a life where our dreams were not just figments of imagination but tangible, attainable goals.

Little did we know, our dreams were about to collide with the enigmatic forces that governed Gotham City, setting us on a path filled with challenges, unexpected alliances, and the realization that in the face of adversity, even the most improbable dreams could spark the flames of resilience and hope.

"Ace, you need to get out of here," Silver's voice, like a specter's whisper, jolted us from our contemplation as he approached with a sense of urgency.

Briyo's brows furrowed, his curiosity piqued. "What's wrong, old man?" he inquired, his voice hushed.

Silver let out a heavy sigh, his weathered face etched with concern. "Ah, so you're here too. You both need to get your asses out of here," he began, his words laced with urgency. "There are a bunch of thugs asking around about both of you, and they don't look friendly." He gestured towards the approaching group of ominous figures, who were making their way through the labyrinthine alleyways.

My voice caught in my throat, a heavy realization sinking in. "Ain't those...?" I started, but my words trailed off as I saw the group pivot and lock their gaze in our direction, their intentions no longer shrouded in mystery. It was as if someone had ratted us out, exposing us to the danger that now loomed like a storm on the horizon.

"Come on, Ace, we gotta get the hell out of here," Briyo's voice sliced through the night, urgent and sharp, competing with the blaring alarms that wailed through the desolate alleyways.

"I'm coming!" I shouted in response, the raw edge of fear coursing through me as I rushed to follow Briyo, our footsteps echoing the frantic cadence of our flight through the unforgiving streets of Gotham. In the distance, the city's looming skyline cast an eerie silhouette against the night sky, a testament to the perilous journey that lay ahead.