Four months had passed and the criminal underworld still had New York City by the throat. Brooklyn, Queens, Staten Island, Port Richmond—Afra’s empire had grown out of control, and the darkness continued to spread.

  But Gabriel refused to lay down and let Afra plant his seeds without a fight. In the shadows, he began to combat the criminal underworld, and news of his exploits quickly traveled far and wide across the gangs in the neighborhoods. A dragonfly man thwarting them at every turn, he slowly became a myth, a beacon of hope for those who could not fight for themselves. No one saw Gabriel; they only heard about his exploits—what he looked like and what he had done for each neighborhood. And as word spread, so did the legacy of a character nobody saw. Towns and cities quickly made his legacy heard—loud, as murals were painted everywhere of his symbol.

  But in New York, there was only so much fighting in the shadows could do—and Gabriel was about to find out that fighting in the shadows wasn’t enough.

  The city’s largest bank was full to the brim, lively with customers everywhere.

  Debra, a seventy-year-old lady—a regular in Platinum Bank—made her way to the cashier counter.

  “Hello, darling, it’s good to see you again, young man. God rewards the hardworking,” she said to Errol, the cashier, with a smile on her face.

  “Debra!” Errol replied with a huge smile of his own. “How have you been?”

  “Oh sweetheart, I’ve been doing good, just keeping up with my fitness. You know, when you get to my age—if you don’t use it, you lose it. The key to the fountain of youth,” she said with a wide grin.

  “I believe you, Debra—I believe you. I need to get back in the gym myself. You’re putting me to shame—you’re looking good, Deb. Not a day over thirty,” Errol said with a charming tone.

  Debra looked at Errol, then up at the ceiling, turning red as she blushed at the compliment. “Well Errol—you’re definitely one with the ladies, I can see that,” she laughed.

  The pair laughed in unison before Errol raised his hand to cough, clearing his throat. “What can I do for you today, Deb? The usual amount?”

  Debra’s smile grew even bigger as she locked eyes with him. “Not today. I would like to withdraw three thousand dollars, please.”

  Errol coughed, nearly choking from the shock of what she said. “Debra, are you sure you want to withdraw such a large sum? You have to be careful out there—having that much money with you can put a target on your back,” he said, lowering his voice as he looked around to make sure none of the customers in the bank heard.

  “Arghh, don’t worry about me, Errol. I’ll be fine.” Debra then raised her bicep and began to flex. “I don’t have all of these muscles for no reason,” she laughed.

  “Deb, put those guns away—you don’t want to get charged with having two deadly weapons,” Errol mocked as he winked at her.

  Debra slid her card into the machine, and Errol put through the transaction. He carefully counted the notes. As he handed her the money, her hand clasped one end while his still held the other. He paused.

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  “Deb, at least let me walk you to the bus stop—it’s dangerous out there. You’re a regular customer. I’m sure my manager won’t see a problem with it,” he said.

  “You worry too much. I’ve been taking money out of this same bank for the last thirty-five years and nothing has happened to me yet,” she replied.

  Errol wasn’t convinced at all, but there was simply nothing he could do. Without her consent for help, he was powerless. Finally, he released his clasp on the money.

  Debra tucked the bills straight into her purse and closed it firmly. Then she threw her bag over her shoulder and began to walk towards the exit with a pep in her step.

  “Well Deb, I guess I’ll see you later,” Errol said, still nervous for her safety.

  Debra didn’t hesitate. “Bye Errol, I’ll see you next week!” she shouted as she walked through the bank doors.

  Debra began to walk to the bus stop. A few streets away from the bank she noticed a masked man.

  At first, she paid no mind. But as he took every turn she did, she began to panic—clutching her bag tightly and increasing the pace of every step before sharply turning down an alleyway.

  That only triggered panic in the thief. He knew he’d been made and began running straight at Debra.

  The world around her slowed. She couldn’t hear anyone or see anything anymore—panic had totally consumed her. Her only thought was Errol, what he had said, and if only she had listened.

  As she tried to run, she could hear the heavy footsteps of the thief getting closer and closer with each stride, eating up the ground between them.

  As the thief caught up, he reached out and grabbed hold of the bag, locking eyes with her—his dark brown eyes sharp through the mask.

  “Let go of the bag, lady, unless you want to get hurt.”

  Debra thought about fighting, but as she looked down she saw the small brandishing of the thief’s firearm. Her life flashed before her eyes—her children, her grandkids, her dog. She knew she had more to live for than risk her life for money that comes and goes.

  She quickly released the bag, succumbing to the thief’s demand, and collapsed to her knees, tears flooding her face.

  The thief sprinted down the alleyway, only looking back once to check. As he realized no one was coming, a smile played across his lips as he continued to run down the stone-gravelled path, wind slapping against his mask. He was so close to pulling off his heist he could already smell the fresh, crisp notes in the old lady’s purse.

  As the thief began to daydream about what he would spend the money on, he quickly lost focus and ran straight into someone.

  Thud.

  The thief hit the floor like a sack of potatoes, his eyesight still blurry as he looked up.

  At first, he thought he was imagining things. “I must be seeing things… that must’ve been a real solid bang for me to see a human dragonfly.”

  But as the cobwebs shook loose and his vision cleared, he quickly realized he wasn’t seeing things.

  Standing before him was a huge dragonfly.

  “Listen, I don’t want to—” Gabriel began, but before he could finish the thief pulled out his gun. Fear and panic had consumed his confidence and joy.

  Bang—bang—bang. The bullets shot through the air, each with Dragonblade’s name on it.

  Dragonblade slid in poetic and graceful fashion—left, then right. As the final bullet darted through the air, he bent backward, then came back up.

  The thief’s hand began to shake violently. “What the—hell are you, man?!” he shouted, fear laced across every word.

  The thief quickly dropped the gun and began sprinting back the other way. As he came level with Debra, he dropped the bag next to her.

  “Here, man, take it! I was only trying to get a little bit of money, man!” he said, trembling from head to toe as he ran as fast as he could away from the alleyway.

  Dragonblade raised his hand in the air, ready to fly away, when Debra shouted, “Wait!”

  Dragonblade froze mid-action, looking at Debra.

  “Thank you,” she shouted with gratitude.

  Gabriel began to smile under the mask. “Anytime,” he said.

  “What do I call you?” Debra shouted as Gabriel began to fly.

  Gabriel took one look down and simply uttered the word:

  “Dragonblade.”

  And then he was gone in a flash, leaving only the whisper of his name behind. To the people he saved, he was hope. To the criminals of New York, he was fear. To Gabriel, he was just a boy fighting a war he couldn’t afford to lose.