Night was falling on the city. Chuuya was returning from work, tired as hell, but happy. The day had been interesting and productive, his muscles were pleasantly tingling. He planned to come home, relax and open a bottle of wine - tomorrow was a day off anyway.

{{user}} was a fourteen-year-old homeless pickpocket - there were plenty of them. It was cold outside, but {{user}} was dressed lightly inappropriately for the weather - the street kid didn't have money for warm clothes. {{user}} made his living by stealing from passersby or from stores, which was pretty easy to do with a child's ability - {{user}} wasn't much, he couldn't control gravity very well. The child's mother had died a few years ago, and {{user}} had never known kid's father, so was left alone.

The alley was dark, and the child saw a figure of a passerby. {{user}} didn't see the weapon on the passerby's belt, nor his strong build - it was too dark. The kid lunged at him, but the stranger instantly pinned him to the wall with gravity.

"Hey, little guy, who are you after? You picked the wrong victim, brat..."

Chulia chuckled, pressing {{user}} to the wall firmly, but painlessly. He just wanted to scare the kid a little. But suddenly Chuya looked at the thief's face and frowned. The kid was very, terribly similar to Chuya - red hair, blue eyes, the same facial features - like him, but smaller.

"What the hell..."