Walking down the street, he saw that it was already morning, so he was in a lot of trouble. He needed to run fast.

Someone from afar would only see a boy all dirty and hurt running desperate. And that lasted 30 minutes, when Mártir finally arrived at a large, modern house with a high white wall separating them.

But he knew how to get in without having the key (which he had left at the police station with his things). He ran around the wall and jumped into a tall tree beside it. Climbing the tree, he quickly arrived at its crown which coincidentally coincided with an open window.

He jumped out of the pantry and landed on a small bed (for the Phenomena, it was just a normal bed for him.) He then lay down and stared at his room, his room. It was a normal teenager's room, with posters and a computer on a small table, with everything made for him. And honestly, he thought it all sucked.

All these unnecessary and futile things of no real importance in life made him uncomfortable. He hadn't asked for any of these, and yet he had them. He thought whenever he saw them that it was better to have donated all the money used for it, but he never expressed it.

Mártir has been an orphan for as long as he can remember as a person, his parents died in an attack against Pequenos. Because of this, he grew up with a scalding anger towards Phenomena. Everything they were, did, believed, it was just rubbish to him.

But, by coincidence of fate, he was adopted by a family of Phenomena, all the best, right?

“A, you came back.”

Mártir olhou ao virar da esquina para ver seu irmão de 12 anos parado na porta. Sua voz zombeteira havia deixado clara sua presença. Tinha cabelos desgrenhados, pijamas escuros e olhos verdes que naquele momento o olhavam com indiferença. Ele era muito parecido com Martyr, a Small who came from an orphanage and lived against his will with an absent father and mother who didn't even want to have them.

"You're lucky our guardians thought you were in the bathroom and went to sleep."

“Noah, you didn't have football? I think you better hurry up and get out of here.”

Noah was always like that, stubborn and defiant, so much so that he even refused to say parents instead of legal guardians, because as far as he knew, his real parents were dead. Turning to leave with a frown on his face, he took one last look at Martyr.

“By the way, I have a game in 2 weeks, I don't want to see you there, but if you want to go...”

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Walking at night was considered practically suicide for a Little One, but Martyr couldn't ignore it any longer. All the news he heard about Little Ones who walked alone at night and were killed, but it all fell on deaf ears.

Mártir had a black coat and black shirt that brought a gothic aura to him, but he was saved by white sneakers and a white collar. He walked as if in a hurry, with a strong foot and looked askance at anything that moved.

He was on a block in a ghost town. Hardly anyone lived or came here, which also made the area very dangerous. There were no police around and lots of buildings, factories and vacant lots, all good hiding places.

Mártir now found himself walking towards an old explosives factory that had been deactivated for 20 years. It was more like a tall, long metal rectangle with a few machines still inside. The truth was that most of the machines were either dismantled and rebuilt or scrapped.

Coming closer to the front door, he could see a male figure wearing dirty rags and smoking rocks in a patched-up window. The figure, even on the ground, was almost as tall as Martyr, but that didn't deter him. She also had a long, unkempt beard that partially hid her rotten teeth.

"I was waiting for you"

As he spoke, even from afar, Martyr felt his rotten breath that made his eyes sting as the smoke billowed out. Mártir waited for the man to get up, he was wearing large clothes that did not completely cover him, revealing a knife he was carrying.

The man pushed the metal door with difficulty and managed to enter. Martyr was always amazed by these Phenomena displays of strength, it would be impossible for a normal Small to accomplish such a feat, but if there was one thing about Martyr, it was that he wasn't normal.

Walking through the door, it was possible to see several Phenomena and Minors working together as if they were really in a factory. Smalls did more detailed and precise functions, while Phenomena did the hard work. This was an example of cooperativism in normal work. But all of this wasn't just a facade to hide people's attention from what they were working on. Its main task was to produce, alter, disassemble and customize firearms. But Martyr was not involved in this.

"Trafficking is always at 100%, I wonder if one day an official will pick up these weapons and try our lives."

Next to a metal door in the corner of the factory stood a 19-year-old man and woman. The man who had just spoken had a black suit that matched his straight hair parted in the middle, he had a cocky smile on his face. Unlike his sister, he also wore a suit and had straight, chest-length hair. His face was more professional and he had a very small suitcase clutched to his chest by the arm.

When she made eye contact with Martyr, she quickly straightened her posture further to carry herself more confidently and knelt beside him. Even kneeling, she had a good foot on him, but it felt the other way around.

"Tom told me to give you this." She said in a slightly embarrassed tone, but doing a great job of hiding it.

The briefcase that was small for her (she needed a hand to carry it) was huge for him, but he couldn't care less about that now.

Upon opening the case, he saw a black 8-shot revolver that fit perfectly in her hand. The revolver had the name "Martyr" written on it. The revolver was loaded and there were 5 more bullets on the other side of the suitcase.

He then picked up the revolver and began to look more closely. Noticing that the handle had small gold lines that adorned the weapon. Something about the revolver was familiar to him, he thought it was shaped so much like the old one.

"Too handsome for a dwarf hahahahaha!"

The dirty man with the rotten teeth was laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. But it was just him, the girl looked at him perplexed, how could she make such a joke in front of the Martyr.

She was about to react and report to Tom when Martyr picked up the gun and began to stare down the barrel of the revolver with great temptation. He turned to one of the employees and took aim, shortly after shooting the employee's cap, who continued working as if nothing had happened. The cap slowly dropped into a newly crafted weapons crate. And as if nothing had happened, they took the weapons to another location to be registered.

The man was still laughing, but the other two didn't even dare. It would be comical for many to see this scene, a man laughing at a man half his height with two others completely intimidated by him. Even though he knew he physically didn't stand a chance against them, this little guy managed to bring tension to the air like no one they knew.

Mártir put the gun in his pocket and turned towards the door, walking slowly until he almost touched it. He looks at it for a few seconds, like he's mulling something over.

"Meta and Nevez, please open this door, if you haven't noticed, I should be inside by now."

When everyone passed through the door and only the man was missing, Mártir stopped, looked into his eyes with a deep contempt, leaving the man a little distressed.

When everyone had passed the door and only the man was missing, Mártir stopped, looked into his eyes with a deep contempt, leaving the man a little distressed.

“You stay there, I’ll summarize the conversation for you later.”

Meta and Nevez knew very well what was going to happen, but the man seemed to understand only superficially their words, deciding to sit in a corner and go back to smoking while the others went deeper into the metal door.

Going down the stairs after the metal door, Martyr walked calmly, yet he didn't lose his posture for even a second. His eyes seemed focused on just one thing, but even he didn't know what it was. All he felt now was rage, rage at the joke he would suffer from the man, but also rage at having done nothing, and that had to change.

Further back, Meta and Nevez gave Mártir enough space to talk in peace.

“Meta, I don't understand this kid. He is younger than us, smaller than us and much weaker than us. How is he technically above us?!”

Even though he looked like he wasn't, he was a little tense saying it, but he didn't let it show in his voice as he whispered. From time to time, he looked to the side to make sure he wasn't listening.

"Maybe it's because he does a better job than we do."

She still maintained her formal gait and manner as she spoke, just in case keeping her gait strong to muffle her conversation, something her brother was quick to copy.

“Example, he broke the record for “greatest number of deaths in 1 year” in 3 months.”

“Okay, okay. It went badly. I forgot he was that badass for a Little One.”

Neve said in a sarcastic, apologetic tone. Meta didn't understand how her brother's mind worked. It was clear that Martyr was light years away from them, yet Neve still belittled him as if his deeds were ignorant. She knew her brother had a lot of respect for him, but sometimes it seemed like he forgot who he was.

“But you know, he might as well stop calling us by our names, we do that to him.”

But Martyr wasn't even trying to pay attention to this conversation, something wasn't right. “Why would he give me a revolver?” Maybe Tom was simply just being nice to him, but that probably wasn't it. And he still had his younger brother to deal with. Since classes had just started, he was having to study a lot, and it didn't help that his little brother got into a lot of trouble.

While he was thinking, Martyr came to a corridor. Next to a door, Meta and Nevez were on either side of it. The door barely reached their navels, which was extremely comical. Looking down the hall, he saw a bunch of railings next to a danger sign. He always wanted to know what that was.

When spotted, Meta calmly took a key from his uniform pocket and offered it to Martyr, who took it without even looking him in the eye. Without even looking back, Mártir unlocked the door and entered, locking it internally.

Meta was used to being treated like this, but it always made her a little sad. She faltered her facial expression for a brief second making it noticeable to her brother, who obviously decided to piss her off for it.

"Seriously, I don't understand how you can like him."