The hollowed out corpses of long derelict buildings lined the street, broken up by patches of dead grass and broken asphalt. The once affluent neighbourhood lay in literal ruins, now indistinguishable from a third world slum.

The night was deep and disquieting. Two young men, Xavier and Marquis, came walking through the darkness. Broken street lamps meant the ember on the end of the joint they were sharing was the brightest light to be seen.

Xavier handed Marquis what little remained of their joint. He took one last drag, mostly inhaling filter, before flicking it away. They had arrived at their destination.

The abandoned factory was like a cathedral to urban decay. Left to rot for decades all that was left was a husk that hinted at better days long since past. Graffiti marked the place as property of the Bones.

Marquis checked his gun for the ninth time that night before returning it to his waistband, an effort at which Xavier snorted with derision.

The two 13-year-olds made their way through a gap in the crumbling rusted fence and into the factory via the back way. There was no longer any door to speak of.

The interior of the factory was a garbage dump in all but name. While anything salvagable had long since been looted the building was still filled with rusting metal, rotten construction materials and human refuse.

The homeless man was sitting in the lotus position meditating at the center of this trash maze. Marquis and Xavier had to climb their way through the mess, earning themselves a few bloody scratches for their trouble.

The youths tried their best to move with stealth but the heaps of trash quickly rendered the effort futile. By the time they found the homeless man they had abandoned this pretense and were loudly swearing at every minor hindrance. Despite the noise the homeless man made no sign that he heard them.

It was hard to guess the homeless man's age; he was certainly elderly. In spite of his age he was obviously in excellent shape. His muscles were lean and powerful without being overly large, and brought to mind a panther. Across his lap were the skeletal remains of an umbrella.

The homeless man remained sitting with his eyes closed as the boys approached him, drawing their weapons. Xavier couldn't suppress a smile as he contemplated how easy this was turning out.

The old man must be deaf or some shit.

Suddenly, he spoke without opening his eyes. His voice was quiet but carried tremendous presence.

"I have no quarrel with you two boys, so I will allow you to leave unmolested. If you step into the rivers and lakes, I can't be held responsible for what happens next."

Xavier was startled, but regained his composure almost immediately.

"Who the fuck you calling 'boy', you dead fucking bum?" he said.

The two opened fire.

With one fluid movement almost too fast to see the man stood and swatted both bullets from the air with his umbrella in a burst of sparks. Each projectile embedded itself in an opposite wall.

The old man covered the distance between himself and Xavier in an instant. The tip of his umbrella struck the teen's chest, sealing his Spirit Ruins accupoint. Lacking any kind of internal force the boy suddenly found it a struggle to breath, and within moments had fallen to his knees. His grip loosened and the gun clattered to the ground.

In complete shock, Marquis attempted to squeeze off another shot. Without turning to look the man launched a piece of jagged scrap metal he had in his sleeve. The hidden projectile flew into the barrel of the gun an eye-blink before it fired, causing it to explode. The teen screamed as his hand was mangled beyond recognition. He fell backwards onto a jag of metal.

Mewling, stumbling, and soiling himself the teenager scrambled to his feet and fled the factory while cradling the ruin of his hand.

Xavier was still keeled over on the ground, struggling for breath.

"He-lp. P-lease. Hel-," he was barely able to whisper.

"You made your choice and forfeited your right to live," said the homeless man "If I save you it comes at a price. Your life will belong to me."

"P-please," Xavier squeaked.

"Do you agree to my terms?" asked the homeless man.

Xavier could only nod his head desperately.

The old man lifted Xavier's chin with the tip of the umbrella to expose his chest, and struck the accupoint to unseal it.

Xavier gasped for air.