Chapter 70: Named Enemy

Scar had never been inside an automobile carriage before, and as it turned out, reality matched imagination closely enough. It had a rectangular body, room for four, and an engine running on red crystals.

It puffed smoke that ruined whatever elegance it might have had and made more noise than seemed necessary. None of that was Scar’s concern right now.

Purple and Julien hadn’t shown up at the discussed area. The carriage held only him and Haven, which meant one of two things: either something had come up, or they had their own reasons. Scar didn’t push past that. He had enough occupying his mind already.

He couldn’t overlook what had happened to Emma. She had nearly died, and the reason she had nearly died traced back to him. That sat in his chest alongside everything else.

He was moments from meeting Adisa, from finishing what had been building since his father’s death, and he was going to see it through regardless of cost. But it didn’t end there. Whoever had driven Emma to the edge of death was going to answer for it.

Ahem.

“Don’t think too much, Scar. Adisa will show up, and when he does, I know you can finish him.”

Scar was momentarily dazed when she spoke. All morning he had been reading her expression, trying to work out whether she meant to get in the way of the fight since she had looked bothered enough to try.

But what she said now was something else entirely, and he couldn’t have been happier to hear it.

A cheerful smile crossed Scar’s face. Then, as though a switch had been flipped, he was back to his usual self.

He started talking, drawing Haven into conversation, and the dense atmosphere that had settled between them began to dissolve.

The meeting point was Durban’s residential area, and the decision hadn’t been casual. The Third District was the least populous district in the area, and its residential stretch housed wealthy, status-driven businessmen who made a point of showcasing what they had.

It lacked tight security in some areas since not many houses were occupied.

That environment made it viable, somewhere Adisa might actually agree to show. In any location with more foot traffic, he would have turned it down immediately. He was a wanted criminal, and whatever else he was, he wasn’t careless.

After nearly four hours, they pulled in. The area was quiet and sparse, the kind of quiet that made Scar second-guess the address for a moment. Mansions lined the distance, impressive in their own right.

None of them touched the Rover estate, and if he were being precise about it, the entire residential district could likely be swallowed by the Rover grounds without much effort. But striking was still the right word for it.

“I expected them to be waiting for us, at least. After all, we’ve taken longer than we should have.”

Scar’s expression darkened.

“Or… he doesn’t believe I am Scar Rover?”

“No. There.”

Haven gestured as she spoke, drawing Scar’s eye toward something in the distance, a stretch of neatly paved ground, clean and deliberate, the sort that might pass for a welcoming pavement at first glance.

“I think someone is there. No, two people actually.”

Haven took the lead, stepping forward without a second thought. Scar followed, though skepticism walked with him.

There was no guarantee the person waiting was Adisa. It could be anyone. Still, he kept pace behind her.

They hadn’t made it close before a young man stepped out to meet them. Black uniform, a red banner cutting from shoulder to waist, and a soft smile worn as if it belonged there. A Moon Killer, and a striking one at that.

“We called for Adisa, not you. What are you doing here?”

Haven blurted.

That was enough for Scar. It was Robin. The same Robin who had been following Haven around like a shadow she hadn’t asked for.

Robin bowed his head slightly.

“It’s always a pleasure seeing you, my lady. I trust the feeling is mutual. Though I must ask… why invite yourself?”

Haven sneered with annoyance.

“Take care, Scar. I think Adisa is the only one left.”

Robin managed to get on Scar’s nerves in the span of a few seconds, which was an achievement of sorts. “Insufferable” was the word that came to mind, and it came quickly.

But Scar had no interest in dealing with him right now, he had somewhere more important to be. He moved ahead without wasting time, leaving Robin to do what Robin apparently always did, pulling Haven away from the area with little resistance.

He had imagined this moment more times than he could count. A punch the second he got close enough. A blade to the heart before a single word was exchanged.

Every version had been built from his pure, unfiltered hatred. What he was actually looking at now was none of that. It was pitiful.

The area opened into a town square, and there Adisa was dressed in a red cadet uniform, pacing back and forth with an impatience that bordered on frantic, as though he were the one with something to lose. Which, Scar supposed, he was.

The strangeness deepened the moment Adisa registered Scar’s presence. His expression changed immediately. Something raw and unguarded crossed his face, the kind that preceded tears.

He fumbled over whatever he was trying to say, his feet moving toward Scar in a halting, uncertain way that didn’t line up with any version of this moment Scar had imagined.

“I knew it was you. I always knew you were alive. The moment I saw you at the academy… I knew my best friend was still there.”

Scar scowled and took a step backward.

There was something in the way Adisa looked at him that was hard to sit with. It was an expression of someone deeply, unhealthily attached, and harmless enough on the outside but carrying something that edged toward psychopathic underneath.

It was disarming in the worst possible way. For a moment, Scar nearly lost the thread of why he had come.

He breathed. Cleared his mind and let the bizarreness settle somewhere it couldn’t distract him.

“So, it’s me, Scar Rover… It’s nice to finally meet you as the real me, Adisa. I should have spoken to you earlier, but I just couldn’t.”

Adisa paused and wore an understanding smile.

“You don’t have to worry, Scar. I could never be angry with you. Whatever you did… I’m sure you had a reason.”

Too strange for a murderer, but Scar wasn’t done.

“Can I ask you something? It’s very important to me.”

Adisa’s expression darkened for a moment.

“Go ahead, Scar, ask me anything.”

The words didn’t come easily. They sat in his throat, heavy and reluctant, while something worse moved through him. Seeing Adisa like this, exactly like the child he remembered and he found himself hoping it wasn’t him.

That the culprit was someone else. Because if it was Adisa, truly him, the hurt of it was going to be something different entirely.

“Uhm… did you kill anyone named Isaac? He was an old man in his eighties. A perverted old guy who couldn’t go a day without cracking jokes… just a harmless old fart.”

Something moved across Adisa’s face when Scar said too much about Isaac. His mood changed, just for a moment. But it passed, and the eagerness to answer came back through.

“Yes!”

When Adisa said that, something in Scar gave way. It wasn’t the death that undid him this time, he had made his peace with that, or something close to it.

It was the way Adisa talked about it.

The eagerness in his voice, the brightness in his eyes, and the pride that sat so openly in his tone didn’t even try to hide. That went somewhere beyond cruelty. The boy wasn’t cruel. He was insane.

“Can you imagine? He tried to take you away from me. The moment I saw you, I knew you were Scar… but you weren’t showing any of the traits you had when we were kids, so I couldn’t be certain.

“I hunted that old bastard down and asked him if you were really Scar Rover. I even told him you were my master… but he never told me the truth. So I killed him. At our third meeting. Cool, right? I finally learned how to stand up for myself, Scar.

“You are here now… we can give this world a better ending.”

The mumbling fell on deaf ears. The more Scar heard his voice, the more something broke inside him.

He knew, if he was being honest with himself, that some of this was on him. The influence he had carried over Adisa as a child hadn’t been a good one. That was a truth he couldn’t entirely outrun. But it didn’t justify what Adisa had become. Nothing did.

Slowly, Scar unsheathed his sword and pointed it at Adisa.

“You little shit. That man you killed… he was my father. He raised me for eight years, and you murdered him like it was nothing.”

An agitated grunt left him as Scar dropped into his stance.

“I will kill you, shithead.”

Adisa didn’t take the words well. He visibly looked broken, watching the one person he had ever looked up to pull a sword against him.

“W—what? You tricked me?”

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