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Axton Manor, March 2015

Kyran runs his fingers through a forest of freshly trimmed hair as he dashes down the wide steps of the staircase leading to the grand foyer of the manor. He pulls the broken zipper of a black tracksuit to his chin, surprised it still fits. If Kyran hopes to pull himself out of this depression, he needs to dive toward something again instead of running away from it. Recently, he's had plenty of reason to start running again.

Aarden's inventions have rejuvenated his intrigue in creating, and Phoenix's weeklong absence has given him the chance to catch his breath. Despite living in a home with ample space for both, Kyran and Phoenix are increasingly living at each-other's throats. It wasn't always that way, they were once close, and then Phoenix left, and something between them died forever.

The pensive panther grips the large golden handle of the front doors when Phoenix towers into the foyer, a vaguely familiar cheetah clinging to his large arm.

"Where have you been?" Kyran demands, stretching his long, toned legs.

"Places you'll never go," Phoenix says, ducking down to shove him with his broad shoulders as he marches up the stairs. "I'm just going to run up and grab a few things. I won't be long; I know how much you love to sulk around like a fucking vampire without me ruining the place with my stupidity."

"That's the most intelligent thing you've said in years!" Kyran yells out, glaring up at the railing as Phoenix disappears out of sight on his way to the solarium on the south wing of the manor.

The two cats wait in awkward silence. The cheetah runs her hands across the surface of a large decorative globe, traversing the dusty oceans with her fingertips as Kyran jogs in place.

"Nice to see you've been keeping the place clean," she says, glaring up at the glass ceiling.

"Why is that of any concern to you? Who are you?" Kyran asks, rubbing his aching shoulder.

The cheetah scowls at him, brushing aside her long crimson hair.

"Maybe if you said you're fired to my face again, you'd remember. My mother was spoon-feeding you since you were a baby, spending more time here raising you than she did me, and you thanked her for years of service by firing her and everyone else!"

"I don't care," Kyran says bluntly, walking through her and re-materializing at the base of the steps, running toward the clear paths dividing the thousands of acres of woodlands he reluctantly owns.

Hours later, Kyran heaves air into his burning lungs as he glances at his reflection in the rippling obsidian surface of the lake. For the second time in his life, he's looking down the same abyss. But unlike last time, only he can pull himself out.

Sometimes he can't decide if he even wants to break the surface again, more comfortable drowning in the depths than barely surviving at the surface.

***

Axton Manor, October 2001. Fourteen years before the end of everything.

A twelve year old Kyran focuses on the redwood trees lining the rocky shore of the lake. That's the furthest distance his eyes can see. It hasn't been long since he discovered his adaptation allows him to leap by transporting his body through a veil of smoke to travel as far as he can see or visualize. But so far, he's only been able to leap short distances, limited by his worsening eyesight.

Thaddeus says he isn't ready to leap more than a few feet because he's afraid he'll get hurt. Fletcher is afraid he'll leap into a wall or amputate his tail in the process. To Kyran, it seems like everyone is too busy being afraid for him.

Kyran is undaunted. Determination runs through his veins, and the yearning to leap hundreds of feet across the lake will prove to his adoptive father he's capable of taking greater challenges, and that he's worthy of attending the exclusive meetings between himself and Zephyr.

Kyran takes a deep breath, allowing crisp autumn air to fill his lungs. He strides back the brief distance his short legs allow him as he envisions himself firmly planting his feet on the other side of the rocky shore.

"I'm ready," he tells himself, his whiskers twitching as he adjusts palms pressed onto damp grass to mimic the starting position Fletcher taught him for sprinting.

With his tail raised high he leaps forward, running along the wind rushing in his ears, knowing he could run across the silvery surface of the lake if he pushed himself further.

Kyran runs out of ground as he lets go, leaping through inky smoke, briefly catching glimpses of the copper-colored galaxies threading the invisible space between distances.

Expecting to feel smooth pebbles beneath the soles of his shoes, Kyran's mind staggers when he breaks the surface of the freezing lake. The depths deafen him as he thrashes his arms in a haze of froth far beneath the surface. The young panthers' eyes open but all that surrounds him is dark, pine-colored depths.

Terror overpowers Kyran as he leaps again, but his fingertips refuse to become smoke, suspending like paint in a watercolor before melting back into shadowy hands. He descends deeper, his heart palpitating in his chest, knowing death is approaching as he shouts his last breaths away.

Kyran's vision fades to black as he drowns. The muddy raven water weighs him down deeper into the abyss as he breathes it into his lungs.

He tries feebly to swim toward the dim light at the surface, but the last parts of his mind are claimed by the depths.

As the serene nothingness of death creeps up on him, a blazing fire, inextinguishable by the depths, burns through the darkness. The warm hands of an archangel grab onto his waist and pull him toward the light. The next thing he remembers is staring into honey-colored eyes as he spits out the contents of the lake from his lungs.

Kyran clutches the smooth stones on the shore as he heaves air into his small, crackling lungs. An eleven year old Phoenix shakes the flames off his body and looks down at his older brother.

"What were you thinking Ky?" He demands, his voice only starting to deepen as the first tufts of his mane fly in the wind.

"I thought I could leap across," Kyran says through coughs.

"You could've drowned!"

"How far across did I make it?"

"Why does that matter? Are you okay?"

"How far!?"

"I don't know Ky! Twenty feet maybe."

Kyran shakes off the algae wrapped around his neck, a tremendous weight slipping off his body as he steps out of his water-logged jeans.

"Why didn't you teleport out?"

"It doesn't seem to work underwater."

"You tried to jump over the lake without knowing that? I wish I could be as brave as you Ky," Phoenix says, steam rushing off his body as he ignites his fur to dry himself.

"I'm not brave, I'm stupid." Kyran insists, shivering.

"What's the difference?"

"I'll make it across next time, watch me."

"Kyran, you have to be more careful. I may not be around next time to catch you when you fall, especially when you can't use your powers. I can teach you to swim."

"Swimming isn't the issue, it's getting across," Kyran says, pressing one of his nostrils shut to push water out of the other.

Phoenix scoffs, patting his back as he coughs up more of the lake before rising.

"Your first attempt at that sure went well. Listen, you need to take these things slowly. I know what it's like with Dad. He expects too much from us. The most I can do is light the fireplace, but he expects me to be the freaking sun. I can't do that."

Kyran shakes the doubt away.

"We have a purpose Phoenix, and we're no use to him if we can't control whatever this is."

"Do you hear yourself? We're children, why do we have to have a purpose this soon? That's why I hate it here Kyran!"

Phoenix throws the glowing stones he grips in his palms like hot coals. They sputter loudly as they break the liquid glass surface of the lake.

"If I ran away, would you come with me?" Phoenix asks.

Kyran thinks as he heaves.

"I would. I'd rather be out there with you than here all by myself. But before then, can you teach me to swim?"

"Of course. Let me dry your clothes."

Kyran places his clothes in Phoenix's scorching hands. Warm cotton-balls of steam turn into billows of black smoke as the ashes of Kyran's tailored suit travel along an autumn zephyr.

"I should've seen that coming," Kyran says, his shivers disappearing as he walks side by side with his brother toward the towering manor in the near distance.

***

San Francisco, April 2015.

The global headquarters to Zenith Genetics is a large facility located at the center of the cold and turbulent San Francisco Bay. There, veiled amongst the fog, and within windowless walls, six miracles occurred within a span of eight years. The first, Zephyr, occurred in October of 1988. The last, Aarden, occurred days before the Apex Program formally ended in March of 1996.

Not having set foot in the facility since the day the program ended, Dietrich Ziegler glances at the same building he was once escorted away from. Now, thanks to a thoughtless mistake by Kyran, he's now the sole owner of Zenith Genetics. In this new light, the same old facility offers the marred wolf a sense of relief, standing as an unchanging piece of history in an ever-changing world.

The slender wolf stalks the bright white halls of the genetics laboratory. Everyone who walks past him glances anywhere else but back at him, too afraid to glare into his eyes, afraid they may be visited by Ulysses Thorne, who paces around the rooms at night to watch them.

Ziegler enters the rarely occupied main office at the edge of the rocky island. There, he removes his long navy coat and sits at Thaddeus Axton's desk, reading unopened letters addressed to the late lion until the day fades into early night.

Later, long after the last rays of sunlight have slipped away and the waters in the bay run black, a knock at the door echoes off the glass panes composing the office.

"Enter," Ziegler says. A brown, striped hyena enters the office. Venus Kane stands before the unknowable, stepping forward cautiously.

"Shit. So it's really true? Well, color me impressed. I've never seen someone rise from the dead and climb straight to the top," Kane says, peering out at the bright red and white lights of the San Francisco skyline across the bay, "at least not as quickly as you have."

"I'm sure there's plenty of incredible things I can show you," Ziegler says, licking his sharp teeth with his long tongue.

"So, of all of the detectives in this city, why me? I hate to break it to you Z, but I'm retired. I gave up this hero shit a long time ago, but it wasn't until recently that I decided to put the badge down."

Ziegler rises to pace the room. In the dim light, his straight silky hair shimmers like blood, making him look as vampiric as the descriptions Kane has read of the infamous wolf.

"I was never in Thaddeus Axton's inner-circle. In fact, Thaddeus despised me from the moment he met me. Yet, my greatest skill was my willingness to live in the shadows of passing time and watch Thaddeus's inner circle implode on him like a dying star, until he had no choice but to depend on me. I could tell from the moment I met you that you operate the same way."

Ziegler clutches a cold bottle and pours liquid fire into his body. He hands a glass to Kane, who drinks deeply.

"So, what is it you want me to do?" Kane says, "there's not much I can offer you now."

"I don't need you to do a single thing, at least not yet. I just want you to listen to what I have to say."

"I'm listening, but I don't have all night."

Ziegler adjusts the buttons on his pinstriped vest.

"I understand you've had some difficulties with The Zenith?"

Kane scoffs as she accepts another drink. "Those damn kids have been a thorn in my ass for as long as I can remember. I didn't like them then, and I sure as hell don't like them now, and I'm not the only one on the force who thought that way, everyone's just too afraid of them to admit it."

"That's precisely where I was going with this. Since purchasing Axton's share of the company, I practically own The Zenith, and I can assure you, they won't be a problem for you for much longer."

Kane laughs to herself, watching the amber liquid catch light as it swirls in her hands.

"Why don't you just march up to that mansion of theirs and take care of it, or are you afraid of them too?"

"There's no need to. Besides, half of them are scattered around the world as it is. I have something in motion that will make them come to me, then I'll take the agreeable ones in with open arms, and the rest will be dealt with. In the end, I won't even have to harm a single one of them, they'll do it to themselves."

Kane's intrigue gets the better of her.

"And if they don't?"

"Well, that's where you come in."

"Killing your Wunderkinder isn't something I had in mind. You do understand why I can't help you with that, right?" Kane says as she reaches under the desk in hopes of finding something strong enough to get her through the worries of the late night.

But eyes like uncut rubies in a pitch black cave shimmer into hers when she rises.

The hyena smashes a bottle over the specters head, certain it would phase right through him. But glass shatters at his feet, and shards bury themselves deep in the face of a shadow.

Cold blood mixes with even colder liquor at Kane's feet until the shower of blood stops like a summer storm. Thorne's wounds heal gradually, pushing glass out as he snarls the putrid air of decay onto the hyena's face.

"Thaddeus must've felt the terror you feel now when he saw my son become his beast. But to me, all I feel is the awe of seeing my life's work finally become a reality. How about you, is it a beautiful feeling, or are you terrified?"

"Neither. Sorry, but he shouldn't have sneaked up on me like that," Kane says, drinking directly from the bottle. "What the fuck is he anyway, is he one of them?"

Dietrich Ziegler emerges from the shadows, walking over the tarnished floor. "Thorne here, is something different entirely."

"What did you do to him, Dietrich?" Kane asks as she reads the dead look in the dragon's shiny eyes.

"I did what Thaddeus was too afraid to do, and now death is only final when I say so. Thorne here is only the beginning."

"Of what?"

Ziegler steps closer, his long hair brushing against her arms.

"I know you feel the same way. You despise the individuals who harness the power, not the power itself."

"I'm not too fond of either," Kane says, his gaze paralyzing.

"I'm building a world where only the strongest remain, one where the powerful hold real power. Wouldn't you like to break free from everything that's weighing you down?"

Kane glances down at Thorne's blood as it swirls in the river of lavish drink.

"Blood that can resurrect the dead is too precious to be spilled. Luckily, Thorne has natural adaptations. That's what it's always been about, Kane. Turning back time to when the most powerful species amongst us could do just that."

Ziegler finishes his drink, allowing the liquid fire to burn his throat as he savors the sensation.

"We've spent far too long surviving off scraps in the shadows. Now the time has come to step into the light. They will learn to fear the dawn, because like us, it's inevitable. So, what do you say Venus?"

Kane is hypnotized by the wolf's alluring gaze. Even his scent, the one masked underneath his powerful cologne, captivates her as he leans in so closely to her, his sharp teeth graze her neck.

"I'm here aren't I? Convince me to stay."

***

Several hours later, Kyran struggles to look through the fog looming over the misty waters of the dark San Francisco Bay, trying to find a glimpse of the island facility he and his siblings were born in.

The deep voice to his right is lost over the roar of the waves as he focuses on a place to land on the distant beach.

Memories of Fletcher blaring the news of his mistake continue to repeat in Kyran's head. How he allowed the most dangerous wolf in their world to become the most powerful with his impulsive decision to sell his share in Zenith Genetics.

"Are you sure you don't want to try the ferry?" Phoenix asks beside him, the chilly gusts trying with all their might to extinguish the flames growing from his mane.

"I can make it across, my only concern is if you two can as well," Kyran says, estimating as he brushes mist off his glasses.

Aarden pulls the collar of his jacket up, his long tail keeping him balanced against the gusts.

"Now isn't a good time to mention I can't swim, right?" Aarden says, fidgeting with the controls of a cannon he's improved by painting it metallic green.

"That's not my problem, and I thought I told you to leave that thing at home," Kyran says, cracking his neck and stretching.

"What? The prickly pear?" Aarden asks.

"We might need it Kyran. I'm sorry, what did you say, the prickly what?" Phoenix asks.

"Prickly pear, cactus fruit?" Aarden says, his ears falling back in embarrassment.

"You have to come up with something cooler than prickly pear."

"Opuntia?" Aarden suggests.

"It doesn't matter what he calls that thing, there's no use for it at the moment. There's no one in there but a few scientists and poorly armed guards," Kyran interrupts.

"Sure, but isn't that the case in every mission we've ever been on? Those scientists always turn out to be evil and they always know to throw a punch, and I always end up having to roast them like marshmallows while you get to be a depressed little storm cloud and fly away. Aarden can help me do some of the heavy lifting this time."

"He's not going to kill anyone!" Kyran says, turning back against the force of the wind, his long onyx hair flowing onto his face.

"He just might have to. Kid, look at me, you're going to have nightmares at first--

"Do you ever stop talking!?" Kyran says, gripping both of their hands.

Kyran's body cuts through the fog as he lands soundlessly, pebbles pressing against the soles of his boots as the midnight tide crashes on the rocky shore.

Phoenix is thankful he skipped dinner as he listens to Aarden lose his. He rises and shakes his head, trying to focus on the fence before him.

"You have to give us more warning before you do that," the lion says, grabbing onto his knees.

Kyran ignores him and helps Aarden up.

"Well, what now?" Phoenix asks.

"Make yourself useful."

"How?"

Kyran gestures to the chain-link fence surrounding the windowless buildings.

"Oh, right."

Phoenix tucks the chain-link wire between his large fingers and melts the fence as his hands slice through to make an opening large enough for him to walk under.

Kyran covers his nose in his sweater to avoid the smolder as he walks behind Phoenix. Aarden tries to avoid touching the jagged, glowing tips with his bushy tail.

"We're not going to leap again, are we?" Aarden asks, his empty stomach lurching again as he leans against a pine by the fence.

"No, I have no idea what this place looks like from inside. If I'm not careful, half of your body can end up somewhere inside, while the other half ends up in the bay."

"He's joking," Phoenix reassures a terrified Aarden, who reaches up to feel if his ears are still intact.

"You're joking right?" Phoenix whispers to Kyran, who ignores him as he braces the wind to make his way to the main building through the cover of a forest of trees and fog.

Once inside, they maneuver their way through the blank, white walls until they reach a pair of sliding silver doors deep within the facility.

Phoenix nudges Kyran and points at a bright green palm scanner, breaking his concentration.

"Well, go ahead," he says, pushing the panther forward while looking behind to make sure they aren't followed.

"Go ahead and what?"

"Use the fucking palm scanner," Phoenix says, wiggling his large fingers.

"Why would I do that?" Kyran says, his brow furrowing.

"You own the company; your palm should work."

"That's not how it works, why would I even do that, if I could leap through it!" Kyran says, not having informed Phoenix that Ziegler has purchased his share of the company. Aarden found out through Fletcher by eavesdropping on her phone conversations after memorizing all of the manors hidden staircases and walkways.

"I'm not doing that shit again!" the lion objects.

"Then you can wait out there in the cold for me."

An idea burns in Phoenix's mind.

"Let Aarden hack his way in."

"And risk getting caught? I'm leaping through."

Phoenix pulls on his sleeves, pulling him close as he turns his massive back to the red panda.

"Let him hack it! Kyran, he needs this so he can feel like part of the team. You know, with no adaptation and all."

"I can hear you," Aarden says, pulling out wires attached to a handheld device beeping loudly as the doors slide open, gaining them access to the lab.

"Good job!" Phoenix says as Kyran pulls his sleeve back. As they cross the archway, he pats Aarden's back with a force that nearly topples him into a potted plant.

"Aarden, help me gain access into these computers," Kyran says as they descend silver stairs to make it to the research stations below. From the large window, the soothing silvery light of a full moon peeks through as the white clouds in the brown night begin to clear.

"Do you want me to help with that too?" Phoenix asks, holding vials of blood against the bright fluorescent lights.

"And risk you melting them? No. Go look through something non-flammable, and put those down!"

Phoenix curses under his breath and wanders to the back of the lab as Aarden and Kyran type vigorously on the research computers.

It doesn't take Kyran long to uncover Ziegler's intentions.

"He's moving this entire operation to London in the summer, tearing this place down. Shame, I always imagined it would be us who would reduce this place to rubble someday soon."

"Well, we won't be able to find what we're looking for through rubble. It's going to take me a minute, but anything he's hiding, I can find it," Aarden says, accessing more files.

"How did you learn to do all this?" Kyran asks curiously, as if he's looking at Aarden up close for the first time, just now noticing how much he's grown over the last few years.

"It's funny, part of me is convinced Xavier was training me for moments like this. What use is a Zenith with no adaptation right?"

"Special adaptations aren't what make a Zenith. It's so much deeper than that," Kyran says as he tries to memorize as much as he can.

In an adjacent records room overlooking a helipad, Phoenix scrolls through the tops of files as he lazily pulls out the heavy drawers from cabinets attached to the walls.

"Where do I even start?" The lion asks himself, squatting down to get a better look.

"I'll start with Z. Everything in our bullshit, backwards lives seems to start from Z," he says, picking up a file and reading through it.

A small photograph falls out from amongst the papers. Phoenix catches it and looks into the remarkable eyes of a lioness, whose radiant smile is immortalized in a candid moment while she sits behind her desk. Embroidered on her lab coat is the same 'Z' logo that was on every article of clothing Phoenix and his siblings wore growing up in Thaddeus's manor.

Phoenix turns the photograph over and reads a name he can't pronounce.

"Xochitl Solis?" Phoenix reads curiously, flipping it back over, unable to take his eyes off the familiar looking lioness. Everything about her captivates him, from her emerald eyes to her short crimson hair.

Phoenix opens the cabinet above him and searches until he finds Solis, X. He leans against the wall and reads in moonlight until he can no longer see through the tears in his eyes.

Kyran continues reading through everything he can find as quickly as his eyes allow him as they dart back and forth across the screen. Aarden hands him a cup of hot coffee that he takes several sips of before calling out to the red panda.

"Wait, where did you get this?"

"I made it with the machine in the break room."

"What did I tell you about touching anything?"

"I'm sorry, do you want me to pour it out and wash the cup?"

"Why would you do that? I haven't finished drinking it," Kyran says, swatting Aarden's hands away.

Kyran freezes when a file catches his eye. He scrolls up and finds a folder titled Zenith 2.

"Me?" The panther asks himself, tapping his foot nervously, this particular file taking twice as long as the others to open.

The mug slips from Kyran's hands. The shatter from the ceramic echoes uninterrupted throughout the space as he struggles to comprehend the reports he's reading and the videos he's seeing.

Startled by the shattering mug, Phoenix stuffs the file in his black jacket and sways his hips to close the cabinet. Aarden runs, grabbing anything he can as the approaching footsteps grow louder.

"I love this jacket, but it's got two really shallow pockets, I'm trying to take everything I can!" Aarden shouts, dropping papers as Phoenix leaps over the railing to make it down to them.

They're just able to touch Kyran's fingertips and disappear into the air when a group of security guards gain access into the lab, pointing their weapons at wraithlike smoke that quickly dissipates, leaving them with only a brief glimpse of Kelly-green satin.

***

Thousands of feet away, Kyran, Phoenix, and Aarden crash onto the side of a hill overlooking the Zenith Genetics laboratory, rolling down until a short wall stops their momentum by the shores of the bay.

Kyran leaps again to avoid colliding with the bricks, and lands on a mossy stone path, seeing stars as his clothes soak in the pre-dawn dew.

Phoenix picks Aarden up by the collar of his jacket. The red panda flails around, reaching for the scattered items on the floor.

"Let go of me!"

"Relax, I'm just making sure you're okay," Phoenix says, dropping Aarden and approaching Kyran, who looks aimlessly out toward the golden crown of the rising sun.

"You too?" Phoenix asks, sitting down beside his brother.

"What do you mean?" Kyran asks, afraid of breaking his gaze from the horizon.

"The answers you were looking for, you found them too, didn't you?" Phoenix asks. He can't remember the last time he's peered into his younger brother's eyes and seen them this frightened before.

"What's wrong?" Phoenix asks, handing him the file he found.

"There was a file in one of the computers, it was labeled Zenith 2, I figured it was about me, so I looked, and it was Zephyr," Kyran says glancing through the file and handing it back to Phoenix without a word.

"I thought Zephyr Ziegler was Zenith 1?" Aarden asks, leaping over the short wall as he brushes grass off his fur. Alarm sirens blare from the island through the clearing fog.

"He was. He is. It must've been addressed to me because he wanted me to see it."

"Who would want you to see, and what?" Phoenix says.

"That Zephyr's alive. I never got the chance to tell you, but Ziegler is the owner of Zenith Genetics. I made a stupid mistake and now he owns everything, and if we don't stop him soon, things are going to get much worse."

"But you said you saw him die," Phoenix reminds him, placing the photograph of the lioness in his pocket and burning the file in his hands before tossing the ashes into the bay. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"How can you be sure it's him?" Aarden asks.

"The scars on his muzzle were cuts when I last saw him on the mountain. It's him, it has to be."

Phoenix places his arm on Kyran's shoulder. He doesn't pull away.

"If he really is alive, then where do we even begin to look? It's been years, he could be anywhere," Aarden says.

"I don't even know where to begin," Kyran confesses, surrendering to his vulnerability.

They sit in silence as the sun rises. Then, Kyran faces Phoenix as he wipes his eyes.

"Do you know that feeling right before you cry? That sort of chasm opening up inside of you until even the things you've loved the most in life suddenly seem pointless? I've felt that way every day for the past several years, to the point where I don't remember what it's like to just be happy I'm alive. This has the potential to change everything, and I don't know if I'm ready to confront that, not without the others."

"Then we know just where to begin," Phoenix says, walking between them on their way back to the Cepheus, the dawn reflecting off the scratched slate paint of their trusty aircraft as it waits atop a hill by a crimson bridge.

"Where's that?" Aarden asks, nearly losing his footing on a chunk of rotted wood.

"Las Vegas. I heard there's a show there you don't want to miss," Phoenix responds before Kyran leaps them through the crowd of onlookers and into the pillowy seats of the sleek jet.