The stars and moon faded away with the coming of the sun.

Kojo raised his hand and wiggled the new digits he grew overnight.

He had no idea if they would heal like his bones, but he was too overcome by rage to care. It wasn't like he needed them anyway: his strength made even jabs with his fingers deadly. If it he lost his entire hand, he could beat people to death with the stump. He'd look into it if he could trust any doctor with the resources to make an in-depth analysis.

Kojo kick-upped to his feet before walking to and over the roof edge. His landing cracked the curb, but his jump more than a few hours ago already did that.

"Did you sleep at all last night?"

"Yeah." He turned to his sitting friend, who he heard and smelled open and exit the warehouse a half hour ago. "You woke up early." Plopping himself down, he sat on the curb beside him.

Marcus scoffed. "Liar. What's the next gang we hit?"

"I did sleep actually."

"Not that much then."

Kojo nodded. "I came out to watch the stars."

"Did you… see anything?"

"The stars."

Marcus turned and blinked.

"What? …What?" He glanced behind himself. "Point them out to me," he whispered.

"Kojo, did you just make a joke?"

He shrugged. "Is pointing out the obvious a joke?"

"It can be a real shitty one, but I know when you're trying to use humor."

"But you don't?"

"You're doing it again."

A tinge of anger sparked in Kojo's mind. "What?" He inched his frowning face closer. "Tell me what. This is getting…" He held a hand to his chin for a few seconds. "Annoying? Yeah, 'annoying.' You're annoying me."

Marcus gaped.

"Stop that: you look like a hooker letting her pimp check for syphilis."

He burst into a fit of laughter that degenerated into nervous chuckles.

"…That wasn't a joke, but you're welcome."

"You sound different." Marcus scoffed. "You are different; even the way you walk."

"I can crush the ground beneath me in-between steps if I'm not careful."

He rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah. We all know you're the brown Hulk now. My point is I don't recognize you." His tongue clucked as Kojo parted his lips. "And I mean your personality. Not your face, smartass."

"I'm annoying you," Kojo said as realization dawned on him.

"Yes! Thank you for finally fucking realizing it!" He jumped to his feet and lifted his arms. "Gentleman! The Alley-cat Slasher knows the obvious! It only took his entire life!"

Kojo furrowed his brow. "I want to rip your throat out with my teeth to make you shut up."

Marcus squatted down and looked him in the eye. "Do it." He drew a knife from his belt to Kojo's throat in a second. "Do it!" The face of his closest ally blurred.

Kojo's brow relaxed as he took notice of his friend's welling tears. "Marcus?"

The human fell back, sprawling himself out on the ground.

"Marcus." His mutant brother stood over him.

"What the fuck are we doing, man? We're just kids."

"Dan said we were soldiers: people who know how to kill aren't kids."

Marcus laughed. "Wild Hair and Black Dome."

"Misfits of Destruction," Kojo finished with a smile.

"Fuck, I miss my afro."

"It looked stupid and stood out." Kojo laughed. "Black Dome is better."

"Anything's better than that whackass mop on your head."

Kojo ran his fingers over his shortened hair. "You got me there. This is better."

"Nah." The tears streamed down Marcus' cheeks as he lifted his upper body. "The old you was fine. I actually had swag."

"…I scared the shit out of you in the beginning." Kojo sat back down and observed the foreign phenomena of crying in front of him.

"You were a killing machine, even before Dan. Dan! Fucking Dan! Now nothing can stop you than your own fuckups."

"Those being?"

"You don't understand people. Never have, probably never will. Sure, you know how we tick, but you can't feel it for yourself. Maybe a part of you can now… Maybe you'll make it work a little." Marcus sighed. "You'll always be that kid who saved me and let me be because an extra set of eyes was more useful than alley wall blood paint."

"…Really?"

Marcus wiped away his tears. "Really."

"I need to go." Kojo stood up and began walking away.

"Why?!"

"Scouting. We need to expand, 'dumbass.'"

"Okay." Marcus shifted back into a more comfortable position and stowed his blade as Kojo took off. "Come back soon… You're the only one left."

Kojo leapt from roof to roof until they started caving in under his feet, which were shattering themselves. He grit his teeth and dug his fingers into his hands. Snarls festered in his throat.

His chest hurt.

Blood streamed down his wrists as he freed his fingers. He tripped on his own feet during his next jump. The mistake registered when he flipped forward several times through the air and several buildings.

The last rooftop received his flying, friction-skinned, dust-caked, bone-broken, and bleeding body, forming a Kojo-shaped gravel mold around his body.

He gave himself a once-over and scoffed.

It'd heal in five minutes at best. The pain wasn't anything new: his initial transformation was the only time in his life he had ever screamed. All the bones in his body crumbled, healed, and crumbled over and over again. It took him several days to even stand and they were still breaking at the smallest exertion.

Flopping his broken arm over to place his hand on his chest, Kojo groaned. "But why does this hurt?"

Many never understood until it was too late: he was one of them.