The Spectrum Chronicles: Shadow & Flame

Prologue

~New Orleans, August 12th, 1957~

He took in the bedraggled appearance of the figure in front of him. The dress shirt and tie, previously crisp and well-pressed, were now in a state of complete dishevelment. The long, coffee-coloured trench-coat hung in tatters from the figure's shoulders, currently heaving with his raspy breaths. The fedora—the same colour as the trench-coat and slacks—sat askew atop his dark brown curls. Dust coated his once-shiny black dress shoes, while tiny pinpricks of crimson dotted the ground at his feet. Overhead, the moon was full, bathing everything in its silvery brilliance.

"You bastard," said Reeves, grinding the words out between clenched teeth. "Who are you, really?"

A long moment passed. Phenex casually looked around, feigning boredom as his gaze swept over the row of gothic-styled buildings, past the brightly-lit pub on the far corner, and into the French Quarter beyond.

His lips twitched into a mischievous grin at the other's frustrated growl, eyes concealed beneath the domino mask while the hood of his cloak cast the rest of his face in shadow. Flames erupted onto the tips of his fingers, never burning, always welcoming in their brilliance—even in the dead heat of a typical New Orleans summer night.

"So, you really want to know who I am? Why not face me, and find out?"

A flicker of irritation lit Reeves' gaze, glacial blue eyes flashing crimson before settling back to their normal hue. In the next instant, he was upon him, wisps of black coiling from Reeves' shoulders like smoke, taking the form of unforgiving spikes. The spikes lurched forward, staggering their strikes. Phenex dodged left and right, spinning lightly on steel-tipped boots.

He could hear the rip as one of the spikes rent the cuff of his sleeve, just barely missing the flesh underneath. Not that it would have mattered, not when he could heal himself within a manner of seconds. Still, he couldn't have Reeves getting in the first hit too easily; the big reveal was yet to come and until then, he meant to have a little fun at the other's expense.

After all, hadn't Reeves done the same with his human victims? It was only fair that the Shade got a taste of his own medicine. No, it wasn't even fair. Fair would have involved his life being claimed. Phenex would just have to settle for less, however, and hope that he was given the honour of escorting him back to the bowels of Gehenna himself.

Reeves shot forward suddenly, closing the distance between them and aiming a swift left hook Phenex's way. Phenex caught the blow on the edge of his forearm, barely registering the brief flash of pain that followed before driving the other back with an ember burst across his sleeve, Reeves cursing as he patted the flames out.

Phenex permitted himself a small grin as he held both hands out in front of him, cupping them at the wrists and releasing a fiery explosion in the space between him and his opponent. Reeves recoiled, fading into nothingness and materializing several feet away, smoke curling up from the collar of his coat—where Phenex's flames had touched seconds before he'd vanished.

Phenex didn't give him time to recover. Holding his arms out as though a heavy, invisible burden rested between his shoulders, he curled his fingers and lifted his hands so that they were level with his head. The ground quaked beneath his feet, the familiar simmering in his veins turning into a full-out burn half a second before pillars of fire erupted up and down the street. He could hear the distant shrieks of unsuspecting humans, but knowing they weren't in the blast radius, he paid them no mind. He only had eyes for one person.

Or rather, one figure. Reeves.

The blast of heat from the fire pillars on either side of him threw his hood back, Reeves' eyes widening in recognition despite the mask still covering the gold of Phenex's eyes.

"No, this isn't possible." Reeves stared at him from beneath the brim of his fedora, eyes wide. "It can't be. You can't be him...you're supposed to be dead!"

Phenex smirked, the straps of his mask snapping as he pulled it free. Smoke curled between his fingertips, the mask falling onto the pavement in a charred clump. "And yet, here I am."

"But the Flame of Olympus? You can't be," Reeves repeated, a desperate edge creeping into his voice. "Not you. Out of everyone, it was never supposed to be you! He...he isn't even supposed to be real! The Flame of Olympus was just an urban legend to keep us all in line—you're the one who..."

"—who told you that?" Phenex supplied.

Reeves' eyes flashed red, and he hissed, "You'll pay for this."

"You keep telling yourself that..." Raising his hand, Phenex called fire down from the sky, his foe disappearing behind a whirlwind of blistering orange light.

***