Esdeath jerked awake, her heart hammering against her ribs. Sweat dampened her sheets despite the chill that always seemed to surround her now. For a moment, she thought she was back in that alley—ice crackling between her fingers, the mugger's terrified eyes reflecting her own merciless smile.
She pressed her palms against her stomach, trying to ease the knot that had formed there overnight. It wasn't guilt exactly. That would have been easier to understand. This feeling was more complicated—a sickening mixture of shame and exhilaration that made her insides twist.
"I enjoyed it," she whispered to the empty room. "I really, really enjoyed it."
The worst part wasn't the violence. It was how natural it had felt. How right. Like she'd finally found something she was meant to do.
Esdeath dragged herself to the bathroom, flipping on the harsh fluorescent light. Her reflection stared back—pale skin, ice-blue eyes, white hair falling in messy waves around her face. A stranger wearing a familiar expression.
She leaned closer, searching her eyes for some sign of the horror she should be feeling. They looked back at her, steady and cold. Not the eyes of someone who had nearly frozen a man to death just hours ago. Not the eyes of someone who might have killed.
"That's me now," she thought, tracing the contours of her face with her fingertips. "And I didn't hesitate."
What scared her most wasn't what she'd done—it was how easy the decision had been. One moment she was normal Esdeath Sanchez, the next she was judge, jury, and nearly executioner.
And she'd liked it.
"Essy! Breakfast!" Uncle Ray's voice broke through her thoughts.
In the kitchen, Ray had already set out cereal and toast. He glanced up from his coffee, newspaper folded beside his plate.
"Sleep okay? You look like you've seen a ghost." He pushed the orange juice toward her.
"Fine. Just... weird dreams." She poured herself a bowl of cereal, focusing on the mundane task to avoid his gaze.
"Must've been some dreams. You're usually talking my ear off by now." He attempted a smile. "Heard they found some thugs in an alley last night. All frozen solid. They're saying it's another mutant incident."
Esdeath's spoon clattered against the bowl. "Really?"
"Yeah. They lived, though. Doctors are saying it's a miracle." Ray shook his head. "World's getting stranger every day."
Relief washed through her, immediately followed by a disturbing pang of disappointment that she quickly suppressed.
"You sure you're okay, kiddo?" Ray's forehead creased with concern.
She forced a smile. "Just tired. School stuff."
"Well, don't work too hard. You're only young once."
Her smile felt brittle. He worked double shifts to keep a roof over their heads, to give her a chance at something better. The last thing he needed was to worry about his niece becoming a superpowered vigilante—or worse.
At Midtown High, Esdeath moved through the hallways like a ghost. Students parted before her, some with curious glances, others with appreciative ones. She ignored them all.
In the cafeteria, she spotted Peter and Gwen at a table near the windows. Gwen waved, gesturing to an empty seat beside them. For a moment, Esdeath considered joining them—pretending to be normal, laughing at inside jokes she didn't understand yet.
Instead, she turned away, finding an empty table in the corner. She couldn't risk it—not with her thoughts still replaying every crystalline moment of last night's encounter. The crack of ice forming around the mugger's legs. The way his eyes had widened in terror. The power surging through her veins like liquid nitrogen.
The rush.
The final bell rang and Esdeath slipped out of class before anyone could catch her. She took the long way home, cutting through the park where autumn leaves skittered across the path. The solitude felt right—gave her space to think without pretending.
Her footsteps crunched on fallen leaves as her mind replayed last night's events for the hundredth time. The crystalline sound of ice forming. The man's terrified eyes. The surge of power that had rushed through her veins like lightning.
"I liked it," she admitted to herself, watching her breath form tiny clouds in the air. The temperature around her dropped several degrees without her conscious effort. "Because it felt right. I was stronger. I didn't hesitate."
A squirrel darted across her path, freezing momentarily to stare at her before scampering up a nearby tree. Even animals sensed something different about her now.
"Maybe I should be worried," she continued her internal monologue, hands shoved deep in her pockets. "But I'm not."
That was the truth that had been gnawing at her all day. The absence of remorse felt more troubling than the violence itself. Was this Esdeath's influence? The original Esdeath had been ruthless, even sadistic. How much of that had seeped into her new identity?
The walk home took twice as long as usual, but she barely noticed. By the time she reached the apartment, the streetlights were flickering on and the sky had deepened to indigo.
her Uncle was already home, sitting at the kitchen table with bills spread out before him. He looked up when she entered, offering a tired smile.
"Hey, kiddo. There's pizza in the fridge."
Esdeath grabbed a slice and sat across from him. "Rough day?"
"The usual." He rubbed his eyes. "City's getting more dangerous, you know. Just heard some guys at work talking about another mugging over in Queens." He shook his head. "Gangs getting bolder. People with powers showing up. Strange sightings all over the place."
She chewed slowly, careful to keep her expression neutral. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Ray sighed, pushing the bills aside. "World's changing. Not always for the better." He stared at his calloused hands. "Sometimes, you do what you have to do. That's all there is to it."
The words hit her like a physical blow. If only he knew how close to home that struck.
"I guess so," she managed.
Later, in her room, Esdeath sat on the windowsill, staring out at the city lights. Brooklyn spread before her, a maze of streets and buildings, secrets and dangers. Somewhere out there, people were hurting others. Somewhere out there, other mutants were discovering their powers, making their own choices.
She clenched her fists, watching frost crystallize around her knuckles. The power came so easily now, responding to her emotions like an extension of herself.
"I'm not a killer by nature," she whispered to the glass, her reflection ghostly against the night sky. "But this world... it's not safe."
The ice crept further up her arms, beautiful and deadly. She didn't fight it this time, letting it form intricate patterns across her skin.
"Sooner or later, I'll have to make real decisions." Her voice was steady, resolute. "About who I am. About what I'm willing to do."
The frost receded as she unclenched her hands, leaving no trace behind. Just like her old life—gone without a mark.
Esdeath stepped away from the window, her decision crystallizing like the ice that flowed through her veins. The reflection staring back at her seemed different now—sharper, more focused.
"No senseless killing," she murmured, tracing a finger along the frost-rimmed windowpane. "That's where I draw the line."
She paced the small confines of her bedroom, mind racing through scenarios. The power humming beneath her skin was a constant reminder of what she could do—of the damage she could inflict with barely a thought. But power without restraint was just chaos.
"I'm not some mindless killer," she told herself, ice crackling softly between her fingertips as she flexed them. "But who says I have to restrain myself completely?"
A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. There was room for interpretation in that moral code. Room to work with.
"I can still have a little fun while saving people." The thought brought an unexpected thrill. "Scare them. Make them feel what their victims felt. Show them what real fear looks like."
She imagined the faces of would-be attackers as ice crept up their legs, the panic in their eyes as they realized they were utterly powerless against her. Not killing them didn't mean she couldn't enjoy making them regret their life choices.
"And at the end of it, I'll take them to the police like they deserve." She nodded to herself, satisfied with the compromise. Justice would be served, just with her personal touch first.
Esdeath sat on the edge of her bed, feeling the tension drain from her shoulders. The constant war between Mark's morality and Esdeath's more primal instincts had exhausted her. This middle path felt right—a way to honor both sides of herself without losing control.
"But when a real threat rises..." She clenched her fist, watching ice form a perfect, gleaming gauntlet around it. "I won't flinch."
Some dangers couldn't be handled with half-measures. Some enemies wouldn't be stopped by mercy. She knew enough about this world to understand that much. There were monsters out there—both human and otherwise—who would only respond to absolute force.
For those threats, she would be ready. No hesitation. No mercy.
With her new resolve in place, Esdeath pulled back her covers and slipped into bed. The sheets felt cool against her skin—a sensation she was growing to appreciate rather than fear. Her breathing slowed, muscles relaxing one by one.
For the first time since the fight in the alley, sleep came easily. No nightmares of ice-covered corpses. No guilt-ridden dreams of power gone wrong. Just darkness and peace.
The internal conflict hadn't disappeared entirely—she could still feel it, a low hum in the background of her consciousness. But it no longer controlled her. She had found her balance, at least for now.
As consciousness faded, Esdeath smiled. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, new tests of her resolve. But tonight, she would rest, secure in the knowledge that she was neither Mark nor the original Esdeath, but something new entirely.
Something, perhaps, that this world needed.