Infinity Son (Infinity Cycle #1)(5)

He’s been calling us that since we were ten, right after we found out our last name, Rey, means king. You couldn’t stop us from fantasizing about how our name was probably some prophetic code that we’re destined for greatness—the heroic twins who are doubly strong and can communicate across the city without phones. We’re not special at all, but the name stuck, even though our brotherhood seems to be getting dimmer and dimmer by the day.

“Yeah, well, I thank the stars we don’t have powers,” I say. “Not trying to find blood on my hands.”

“Killing to save the world is different, bro.”

“Heroes shouldn’t have body counts.”

For once, he’s quiet.

We stare each other down like a game of chess that’s hit stalemate. Both kings live but no one wins.





Three


Dreamer


BRIGHTON

The world’s about to find out I’m the real deal.

I struck gold with this video, not even playing. It’s not the first time I’ve seen celestials perform miracles with their powers. One of the craziest was when this Suit fell onto the subway tracks as the train was approaching; kind of cliché, but it happened. Before I could be his hero, this little kid grabbed the man’s wrist and lifted him onto the platform as if the Suit were as light as the doll clutched in the boy’s other hand. Problem is, moments like that are too quick to catch on camera. That’s why the power brawl I’ve just finished uploading is going to make waves.

I play the video over and over. Right as the enforcers cast their spellwork for the millionth time, Emil shoots up from bed and tells me to turn it off already, but I just throw on headphones and crank up the volume. I really should get some sleep so I have energy for all the fans I’m meeting tomorrow, but I can’t help staying up and refreshing the video every minute to track views and read comments. Half an hour in, the stats are good, but this late-night crowd isn’t coming through the way I hoped they would. Still, I know my thirty thousand Brightsiders will do their thing and get this circulating by the time I wake up—it’s too irresistible.

I close my laptop and leave it on my desk, which is cluttered with my Nikon camera, candy wrappers, comics, and an ongoing list of videos I’m hoping to film once I get to Los Angeles. In bed and under the covers, I relax on my back because my shoulder is sore. I can’t wait to show off the bruise to my fans. This is a war wound I’m wearing with pride because not many people can say they’ve been thrown by Atlas’s winds.

The Crowned Dreamer needs to come through on our birthday and bless us. If our latent powers kick in, I know Emil will change his tune about living out our original fantasy of being the Reys of Light, the people’s champions. We grew up on books and movies where ordinary teens discover they’re special—chosen ones, long-lost wizards, whatever. It rarely plays out that way in real life, but who knows.

Unlikely but not impossible are the best odds for any dreamer.

Our bedroom door slams against the wall so hard that my childhood drawing of the Spell Walkers falls. Ma is standing in our doorway, breathing in and out as she holds her chest; her heart must be attacking her again. I nearly trip over my covers to get to her.

We’re about to watch Ma die, so soon after losing Dad.

“Call 911!” I shout at Emil, who is frozen in bed.

Ma shakes her head. Her eyes are watering. “The block party was attacked, and I have to find out from the news? I thought I was coming into an empty bedroom. . . .”

Emil snaps out of it and comes to hug her. “We’re okay, Ma, sorry. We got in late, and I was in shock, I think.”

Hold up.

“The news? My video got picked up?”

“You filmed it?!” Ma shouts.

I grab my phone while Emil tells Ma how he tried getting me away from the action last night. Judging by all the notifications on my phone, I’m damn glad I stood my ground. I check YouTube, and my video is coming up on ninety thousand views, which is more than triple what I’ve ever received but it’s not skyrocketing the way I was expecting. It’s still early, and I’ve gotten a few thousand new subscribers too. Everyone’s thanking me in the comments for capturing this fight, and I smile when someone calls me a hero in my own right.

I wonder which stations and websites have circulated the video, so I hop on Twitter, where I get all my news. BuzzFeed tweeted out an article titled “Vlogger Films Explosive Battle with Spell Walkers.”

“BuzzFeed covered my video!”

I’ve done hundreds of quizzes on BuzzFeed, and now I’m featured. What is this life?

I open the article, and there are GIFs galore, but they’re capturing angles that my video doesn’t. I scroll back to the top of the article. They’ve linked to another YouTuber’s account, MinaTriesThis.

“No way.”

Her video has hit over one million views.

I press play: it looks like Mina was vlogging, trying out a celestial’s homemade moonbeam ice cream right as the first tent lit up in flames. So many people run past her, but she just had to go ahead and keep filming.

To steal my spotlight.

I keep tuning out Emil and Ma as I bounce around online. Screw BuzzFeed for highlighting Mina’s video instead of mine, but I must’ve gotten some love somewhere to reach my stats. The brawl has been covered by the New York Times, CNN, Time magazine, the Scope Source, and Huffington Post, but Mina’s video is embedded in all of them. It’s the top trending video on YouTube.