The Night of Truth
The New York skyline stretched endlessly before them, the city’s neon heartbeat pulsing in the night air. Marcus Black stood on the balcony of his penthouse apartment, a glass of Louis XIII cognac in hand. The city had changed a thousand times, and he had seen it all. But tonight, something different weighed on him.
Beside him, Rossi, his closest friend and the man he had mentored for nearly a decade, swirled his own glass, taking a slow sip before exhaling with a grin.
“You ever just stop and think how crazy life is, man?” Rossi chuckled, glancing at Marcus. “I mean, ten years ago, I was just some kid running the streets, barely scraping by. Then you came along. Pulled me out of that life, sent me to school, gave me a job at the gallery. Hell, you gave me a purpose.”
Marcus smirked, taking a sip. “You gave yourself a purpose, Rossi. I just gave you a push.”
Rossi shook his head. “Nah. You saved my life, man. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.” He let the words settle, then looked over at Marcus with a flicker of curiosity. “But you know what I’ve always wondered?”
Marcus arched a brow.
“You never change. Like, at all.” Rossi frowned, tilting his head. “I swear, you look the same now as you did the day we met. No wrinkles, no gray hairs. Nothing. And you move like a damn ghost—always a step ahead of everything.”
Marcus exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down. He had always known this conversation would come, but now that it was here, there was no turning back.
“You trust me, right?” Marcus asked.
“More than anyone,” Rossi replied without hesitation.
“Then I need you to keep an open mind.”
Rossi chuckled. “Marcus, come on, man. What is this? Some Batman-level secrecy? What, you a vampire or something?”
Marcus smirked at the irony. “Not quite.”
He turned and walked inside, moving toward the antique display case in the corner of the penthouse. From inside, he pulled a dagger—its blade old, yet pristine. Hand-forged Damascus steel, centuries old. He had wielded it in wars long before the concept of New York even existed.
Rossi narrowed his eyes. “Alright… now I’m officially intrigued. What’s with the knife?”
Marcus didn’t answer. Instead, he pressed the blade to his palm—and in one swift motion, sliced deep into his flesh.
“Marcus! What the hell, man—” Rossi started forward, but then he froze.
Blood spilled from Marcus’ hand, but within seconds, the wound began to stitch itself back together. The flesh mended before Rossi’s eyes, the deep gash closing until there was nothing left—not even a scar.
Rossi’s breath caught in his throat. His glass slipped from his fingers, shattering against the floor.
“Tell me I’m drunk,” he whispered. “Tell me I didn’t just see that.”
Marcus met his gaze, his expression calm. “You saw it.”
Rossi took a shaky step back, his mind racing. “No. No way. That’s not possible. That’s—that’s some movie-level special effects.”
“It’s real, Rossi,” Marcus said firmly. “I don’t get sick. I don’t age. And I can’t die.”
Rossi’s heartbeat thundered in his ears. “How… how long?”
Marcus walked past him, back to the balcony, staring into the endless skyline. “Over nine hundred years.”
Silence.
Rossi clenched his jaw. “You’re serious.”
Marcus nodded.
“You’re immortal.”
“Yes.”
A million questions swirled in Rossi’s mind, but only one left his lips. “Why the hell are you telling me this now?”
Marcus turned to him, his gaze steady. “Because I trust you. Because I don’t want to keep secrets from you anymore. You’re not just someone I helped—you’re family.”
Rossi’s hands trembled, his mind struggling to grasp the weight of what he had just learned. But deep down, a part of him already knew—he had always known Marcus was different. This just confirmed it.
He let out a breath, rubbing his face before looking back at Marcus. His mentor. His best friend.
His brother.
“Alright,” Rossi finally said. “You saved my life once. That doesn’t change. I got your back, Marcus. Always.”
Marcus smiled, placing a hand on Rossi’s shoulder. “And I got yours.”
Rossi exhaled, still overwhelmed but fully committed. “You’re immortal, huh?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Man… that’s insane.”
Marcus smirked. “Yeah. But so is life.”
