Misunderstood Hero: My Family Are All Villains

Malik moved before their eyes could fully focus on him.

Goliath’s Fall propelled him forward in a burst of speed that was perfected over dozens of resets.

The distance between him and Huda had closed in less than a heartbeat.

He’d measured it. Knew exactly how long it would take, exactly how much force to use.

Huda’s head turned.

Her eyes widened.

Her mouth opened.

...in that order. Always.

Malik’s fist connected with her jaw before she could speak.

She flew sideways, crashing into the black root, and Malik was already moving, spinning, his other hand coming up to meet Safira’s incoming block.

She’d reacted faster this time, faster than any previous loop, but he’d expected that too.

He’d learned her tells.

”Stranger—what—”

Safira’s voice was confused, not yet angry, and Malik used that.

He stepped inside her guard, his shoulder slamming into her chest, and she stumbled back.

”Stop!”

He didn’t stop.

”I knew it! D-Demon!”

Huda was already getting up, wind gathering around her hands, her pink eyes glowing bright.

Malik closed the distance again, and she lashed out, a blade of air aimed at his throat.

He leaned back.

Exactly two inches.

The blade passed close enough to ruffle his hair, and then he was moving forward again, hand reaching for her wrist.

She tried to pull away, but he’d already anticipated that too as his fingers closed around her arm and yanked her towards him.

”You—!”

Malik spun her around, using her body as a shield just as Safira’s fist came rushing towards them.

The punch stopped inches from Huda’s face, with Safira’s eyes going wide, her force dissipating at the last possible moment.

”Do it, Safira!”

”I can’t—”

Malik shoved Huda forward, sending her stumbling into Safira, cutting her off as both women collided.

He was already circling around them, his similarly glowing eyes fixed on Safira’s face.

She looked at him differently now. The confusion fading, replaced by a much... harder emotion.

”You’re under something. The corridor is affecting you. We need to—”

”He’s betraying us!”

Huda pushed herself off Safira, wind howling around her fists.

”I knew it! I knew he was going to—”

Her voice cracked again.

Subtle, yes, but undeniable.

Malik saw what followed as clear as day.

The hurt that flashed across her face before she buried it under anger.

She’d trusted him, in her own way. Let him walk beside her, fight beside her... die beside her.

And now he was attacking them.

’Good.’

Let her be angry.

Anger made her sloppy.

Huda came at him first, her wind sharp and fast.

Malik ducked under the first blade, sidestepped the second, and let the third cut across his shoulder, a shallow wound, nothing more.

He’d learned where to stand to take the least damage, knowing that even now she would hold back.

Whether that was because she didn’t wish to kill him or a far more logical reason like torturing him for… information, was still up for discussion.

Safira circled, trying to flank.

Malik matched her, keeping both women in his line of sight, never letting either one get behind him.

”Stranger, please! Whatever you think you’re doing—”

”Surviving.”

He lunged at Huda.

She expected it this time, wind coming up in a wall to block his path.

Malik didn’t try to go through; he went over, Goliath’s Fall carrying him above the wall. And then, a moment later, he came down on her like an arrow.

Huda’s eyes went wide.

She tried to dodge but was too slow.

His knee drove into her stomach, folding her over, and his elbow came down on the back of her neck.

Huda crumpled, looking at him in... pain.

”W-Why—”

Malik hit her again.

She... went limp.

The wind died.

Safira stood frozen, staring at Huda’s unconscious body, her hands raised, force gathered but unspent.

She looked at Malik, and her expression shifted into realization, then from realization into something else entirely.

”Now you.”

He moved towards her.

Safira’s fist came up, and he barely dodged it, the shockwave passing his ear close enough to cut.

Malik stepped inside her guard again, but she was ready this time, her knee catching him in the ribs.

It cracked.

He didn’t stop.

His hand reached for her throat.

Safira caught his wrist and twisted. He felt the bones grind, the tendons stretch, but he didn’t pull away.

Instead, he stepped closer, face inches from hers.

”Let go.”

”No.”

She twisted harder.

Malik didn’t react.

Something in Safira’s expression flickered.

She could break his wrist. Snap the bones, tear the ligament, and leave him with a useless hand. She’d done it before, in some other loop, some other life, when the Corruption had taken her and she’d fought without restraint.

But she wasn’t Corrupted now.

She was just Safira.

And Safira couldn’t bring herself to hurt him.

Malik used that.

He pulled his hand free, knowing exactly when her grip would loosen, exactly when her hesitation would peak, exploiting it perfectly.

His hand closed around her throat.

Safira’s eyes went wide.

”Stranger—”

He slammed her into the ground.

The wood cracked beneath her back, and she gasped, hands coming up to push him off. But Malik was already on top of her, his weight pinning her down, his hand still wrapped around her throat.

She tried to punch him.

He caught her fist.

”You are far stronger than me, far faster too. But you hesitate. You punch me with barely any strength.”

Safira’s eyes searched his face.

”Why are you doing this?”

He didn’t answer.

She tried to throw him off, hips bucking, legs kicking, her free hand clawing at his arm, but Malik held on, moving with her, absorbing every struggle, never letting go.

He’d done this before.

He knew how she’d move. When she’d fake left and go right. The exact moment her strength would lag, and she’d need to breathe.

”You’re not Corrupted. I can see it in your eyes. You’re—you’re you. So why—”

”I need you to stop fighting.”

”Then tell me—”

Malik raised his left hand.

Black fire flickered around his fingers.

Scorpion’s Sting.

Safira’s eyes locked onto the flame, and her face changed once more.

Recognition.

”That hand.”

Yes.

That hand.

The same hand she’d reattached after the battle with the Southern Cross. The same hand that had been severed, burned, broken, and she’d healed it, knit it back together, made it whole again.

Malik let the black fire spread.

His skin began to blacken. Flames licked at his fingers, his palm, his wrist. The smell of burning flesh filled the air.

Safira’s eyes went wide.

”No—”

She moved without thinking.

Her hand shot out, thin force manifesting as a blade.

It cut through his left wrist cleanly, severing the hand before the black fire could spread any further.

The hand fell to the ground, still burning, and Malik’s stump sprayed blood across Safira’s chest, making her gasp.

Malik moved at that exact moment.

His right arm, his good arm, wrapped around her throat from the side, his elbow pressing against her windpipe.

He pulled her up and slammed her down again, even harder this time.

She tried to punch him.

Malik raised his left arm, the stump, the bleeding, burning stump, and held it inches from her face.

”I can use Scorpion’s Sting again, and we’ll both burn.”

Safira froze up.

She looked at his left arm.

At the charred flesh from where the blood dripping onto her face originated. And she knew, with the certainty of a healer who’d seen too many people die, that he meant it.

”You... will... kill... your... self.”

”Yes.”

”Wh...y?”

Malik didn’t answer.

He just looked at her, his golden eyes unnaturally steady, breathing far too calmly, his bleeding arm held between them.

Safira’s fist lowered.

Her force dissipated.

And then... her body went limp.

Malik watched the fight drain out of her.

She wasn’t unconscious yet, but she’d stopped struggling.

Finally, it was done.

It took some time, but...

Her head lolled to the side.

The corridor went silent.

Malik knelt there for a moment, straddling Safira’s unconscious body, his left arm leaking blood onto the wooden floor.

Huda lay a few feet away, her face peaceful in a way it never was when she was awake.

He’d done it.

He’d beaten them.

The victory felt hollow.

Malik looked up at the space above the tree.

Black roots rose over him.

The glow pulsed through the cracks.

Somewhere in that dark, something was watching.

He let out a sigh.

”I’m sorry.”

The world blinked.