Chapter 4: Sparks in the Dark


    The dim glow of lanterns flickered against the wooden walls of the Prometheus’ lower deck, casting long shadows as Victor and Fritz stood over a hastily prepared worktable. The scent of burnt fish still lingered in the air, a testament to their previous experiments.


    “Alright, let’s try this again.” Fritz’s voice was laced with excitement as they set another fish onto the wooden slab. “You have to control the flow of energy, Victor. Think of it like water—too much at once, and it floods. Too little, and it won’t reach its destination.”


    Victor, standing shirtless in the cold air, furrowed his brow. He had been testing his abilities for hours, yet each time he summoned the lightning, it either fizzled out or overcharged, leaving behind nothing but charred remains.


    He stared down at his fingers. Small sparks flickered at the tips, crackling faintly before disappearing. It was there, but unstable.


    “I don’t understand…” Victor muttered, flexing his fingers. “It feels… unnatural, yet familiar.”


    Fritz leaned in, their sharp eyes scanning his every movement. “That’s expected. You don’t remember anything from before, right?”


    Victor nodded.


    “Then it’s like trying to recall a language you’ve forgotten how to speak. The words are there, buried deep, but your tongue doesn’t know how to form them.”


    Victor looked down at the fish. He focused, inhaling slowly, feeling the energy coil within him. A faint hum resonated in his bones, and then—


    A crackle. A jolt. A tiny arc of lightning snapped from his fingertip and zapped the fish. That was normal that happened a lot of times before but this time he kept it up for a record breaking 39 seconds.


    Fritz clapped their hands. “Yes! That’s progress!”


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    Victor frowned at the fish, which was now destroyed beyond recognition.


    “…This is inefficient,” he said flatly.


    Fritz waved a hand dismissively. “That’s because you’re using raw bursts instead of regulating the flow. We will work on power control later. But the fact that you kept it up for so long is good!.”


    A sudden knock at the door interrupted them. Mary’s voice rang out. “What are you two doing?!,I will not tolerate any weird stuff in the place I work at!”


    Fritz grinned. “Oh, come in, Mary! Witness the birth of lightning mastery!”


    The door creaked open, and Mary stepped in, arms crossed, her face somewhere between frustration and curiosity. She eyed Victor, then the crates full of fish and ash, which was most likely the previous experiments.


    She sighed. “I don’t know what I expected.”


    Victor remained silent, staring at his hand. The energy was still there, just beneath his skin, waiting to be called forth. He clenched his fingers slightly, and a tiny crackle responded.


    He had power. That much was clear. But where had it come from? And why was it buried within him?


    Fritz must have noticed his expression because they leaned against the table, tilting their head. “You’re wondering why you have this power, aren’t you?”


    Victor gave a slow nod.


    “Well, that’s the real question, isn’t it?” Fritz smirked. “Tell you what—keep practicing, and I’ll do some digging. Maybe there’s a way to uncover what’s locked inside that mysterious head of yours.”


    Victor looked up at them. “How?”


    Fritz’s smirk widened. “Magic, of course.”


    <hr>


    Later that night…


    The ship rocked gently against the waves, the creaking of wood and the howling of the wind the only sounds in the dead of night.


    Victor stood alone on the deck, staring out at the endless dark horizon. The cold did not bother him. He barely even registered it. Instead, his mind churned, trying to grasp the fragments of memory that still eluded him.


    His name was Victor. He knew that. But everything beyond that was a void, a yawning emptiness that no amount of thinking could fill.


    He flexed his fingers again. Sparks danced along his knuckles.


    ''Why do I have this power?''. He thought. ''And what does it mean?''


    Behind him, footsteps approached. He didn’t turn as Mary walked up beside him, pulling her coat tighter around herself.


    “…Can’t sleep?” she asked.


    Victor shook his head. “No.”


    Mary exhaled, her breath visible in the icy air. “Figured.” She glanced at his hands, where small arcs of lightning still flickered. “…You should be careful with that.”


    Victor looked at her. “Why?”


    Mary hesitated. “…Because you might burn the ship down.”


    Victor turned back toward the sea, watching as the waves stretched endlessly before him. A storm was brewing in the distance, the faint rumble of thunder rolling across the night sky.


    It was weirdly beautiful....