Chapter 2: Dead Friend

"Come on, Gio. This isn’t you," Captain Balsack said, sitting beside him on the worn sofa in his office. "I promised your mother I would take care of you. But you’re causing too much trouble."

"I’m... sorry," Gio muttered. "I really didn’t mean to steal it."

"What about the allowance I gave you earlier this week? That was a hundred credits."

"Uh..." Gio hesitated. He couldn’t tell Captain Balsack that the local gang had cornered him and taken it. He didn’t want to cause any more problems for the captain. "It’s stashed somewhere safe. I’m saving it."

Captain Balsack studied him. Over the years, he had become an expert at noticing when Gio lied, the slight twitch in his eye, the way his gaze dropped just a little too quickly. But he didn’t pry. While he had promised to take care of Gio, he knew he had done a poor job of it over the last ten years.

Who could blame him, really? Balsack was a bachelor with zero experience with children. His solution had been to place Gio in the local orphanage and check up on him from time to time. It wasn’t ideal, but it was what he could manage.

"Well, whatever," Balsack said with a tired sigh. "Just avoid that side of the district for now. I kind of concussed Fat Joe, so... he might have it out for you."

With that, he pressed another small bundle of credit notes into Gio’s hand and sent him off.

---

Gio left the station feeling dejected, but he headed straight for the orphanage. It was a modest, two-story building tucked between a laundromat and an abandoned building. Cracks ran through its walls like veins, and the sign above the door had faded years ago, but it was home.

The orphanage was run by two people. The first was Granny Tushe, an older woman with a hunched back and a sharp tongue who had been running the place for as long as anyone could remember. The second was Sister Fall, a younger woman with golden blonde hair and a figure that seemed entirely out of place beneath her modest nun’s outfit. She was stunningly beautiful, with a voice like an angel and a smile that could disarm even the angriest soul.

To Gio, she was the big sister he never had.

Among the seven children living at the orphanage, Gio was the second oldest. The oldest, Caleb, worked in another district to bring in extra money for the orphanage. It was a fact that Granny Tushe never let Gio forget.

Upon arriving at the orphanage, Gio was greeted by Sister Fall’s radiant smile from the doorway. She opened her arms as if to embrace him, then immediately pinched his ear.

"Ow! Ow! Ow! Sister Fall! Come on!" Gio pleaded.

"You little runt," she said with her soft and melodic voice. It was the kind of voice that could recite the foulest curses known to mankind and somehow make them sound like a hymn from a divine choir. "Captain Balsack already phoned in and told me what you did."

"It’s not what it sounds like! I swear!" Gio said, wincing.

Sister Fall sighed and released his ear. Her expression softened, but there was a sadness behind her eyes. "Gio, you do so much for the children here. But you need to be a good example for them to follow. Look at your elder, Caleb."

"Caleb this, Caleb that." Gio’s mood soured instantly. "I am not Caleb."

He turned away, his fists clenched at his sides. There was history there, something bitter and unresolved. Everyone at the orphanage compared him to Caleb, the golden child, the responsible one, the one who had stepped up.

Gio was sick of hearing it.

"I’ll do my own thing, my own way," he said, his voice low but firm. "And I’ll be better than Caleb. Just watch me."

After saying that, Gio stormed deeper into the orphanage, making his way straight to the bedding area where the younger children slept. As soon as he stepped through the doorway, a chorus of excited voices greeted him.

"Gio! You’re back!"

"Did you bring anything?"

"Gio, Gio! Look what I drew today!"

The little ones, all between the ages of seven and twelve, swarmed around him like puppies. Their cheerful faces were a stark contrast to the bitterness still simmering in his chest. He forced a smile.

"Alright, alright, one at a time," he said, ruffling the hair of the nearest kid.

A small girl with messy pigtails tugged at the hem of his shirt. "Gio, did you get the toy you promised? The one with the buttons?"

Gio winced internally. He had completely forgotten. "I’m working on it," he said, forcing confidence into his voice. "Just gotta take care of something first."

He made his way to his bedside, knelt down, and reached beneath the thin mattress. His fingers found a small wooden box. Inside was a collection of odd stuff, some old coins, a cracked pocket watch, a few hand-drawn cards from the kids. But he reached past all of it for what he needed: a chunky portable gaming console, scuffed and old but still functional.

He tucked it under his arm and headed for the door. "I’ll be right back, I promise," he called over his shoulder.

From down the hall, Sister Fall’s voice rang out. "You better be back before nightfall, Gio!"

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slipping out the front door.

---

The streets were beginning to empty as the afternoon light dimmed. Gio kept his head down and moved with purpose, navigating through narrow alleys and side streets until he arrived behind a boarded-up electronics shop. The back entrance was mostly hidden by stacks of rusted crates and a dumpster that hadn’t been emptied in years.

He knocked twice, then once, the secret rhythm he always used. No answer. He knocked again. Still nothing.

Frowning, Gio pushed the door. It swung open with a low creak.

The first thing he noticed was the smell, a sharp, metallic scent that made his stomach clench. Then he looked down.

Blood. Dark and glistening, pooled on the cracked tile floor and smeared in uneven trails toward the front of the shop.

"Old man?" Gio’s voice came out barely above a whisper.

He stepped inside, his shoes sticking slightly to the blood-stained floor. The shop was in disarray, shelves knocked over, wires torn from the walls, cartridges scattered like fallen leaves. And there, slumped behind the counter, was the old owner.

Stabbed. Multiple times. His glasses were cracked, one lens missing. His mouth hung open in a silent, final gasp. The pool of blood beneath him was still spreading.

Gio froze.

His mind went blank. The console slipped from his grip and clattered to the floor, the sound echoing through the silent shop. His heart pounded so hard he could feel it in his throat.

He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He just stood there, staring at the body of the only person in this district who he normally chatted with and could call his only friend.