ã€ŠValiant*ã€‹


 Who is a hero ?

    *Hero*

    What does that even mean anymore? Everyone throws that word around like it¡¯s easy, like it¡¯s some title anyone can earn by doing one good deed or making one right choice. But is it ? Is being a hero about wearing a cape or getting recognition ?, Is it about fame or glory ? Is it about something deeper, something harder ??

    Jace Carter wasn¡¯t like other teenager. On the surface, he appeared average: shaggy brown hair, a lean, athletic frame, and a typical life of balancing school, work, and the occasional night out with friends. But what no one knew was that he possessed an extraordinary power: superhuman strength. He could lift cars with one hand, crush steel beams like they were twigs. What¡¯s more, his courage was boundless, an unshakable confidence that made him nearly fearless. Struggling with what to do with his new abilities Jace decided to do what most of us would do: don a costume and fight crime

    Jace was patroling on roof tops in his neighborhood when he heard a commotion coming from the local corner store. He paused, his sharp senses picking up the sound of a struggle inside, followed by the unmistakeable scream of agony. His muscles tensed.

    Without hesitation, he jumped down a roof of another building sprinting towards the store, his footsteps silent as he approached. He peered through the window and saw him¡ªa man in a black, metallic suit that glistened under the store¡¯s fluorescent lights. The suit wasn¡¯t just for show; it was fully armored, complete with a visor, mechanical limbs, and weapons embedded in the gauntlets. This wasn¡¯t an ordinary robber.

    The man had the cashier pinned very hard against the wall with one hand, while the other aimed a gun to the trembling store clerk. Jace knew this was the moment he¡¯d been waiting for. His heart pounded, not from fear, but from the rush of knowing that he could finally use his abilities to stop something truly dangerous.

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    Jace pushed the door open, stepping inside with a calm confidence. The bell above the door chimed, and the robber immediately whirled around, his visor locking onto Jace.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this,¡± Jace said, his voice steady. ¡°Walk away now, and no one gets hurt.¡±

    The man chuckled, his voice distorted through the helmet. ¡°Who do you think you are, kid? I¡¯ve got a suit that can level buildings, and you think you can take me on?¡±

    Jace smiled, cracking his knuckles. ¡°I know I can.¡±

    The robber didn¡¯t hesitate. He raised his arm cocking his gun to shoot. Jace was already moving. In a blur of motion, he crossed the distance between them, swatting the weapon aside just as it fired. The bullet flew past him, shattering the glass door behind them.

    The robber staggered, caught off guard by Jace¡¯s speed. He swung a metal fist at Jace, who caught it easily in his hand. The metal groaned under Jace¡¯s grip as he crushed the mechanical limb, twisting it until the suit sparked and whined.

    The robber let out a furious growl, releasing a hidden blade from his other arm. He lunged, but Jace was ready. With a quick, effortless motion, he dodged the strike and delivered a punch to the man¡¯s chest. The blow sent the robber crashing through the shelves and into the wall with a deafening thud.

    Jace¡¯s strength was terrifying, but he held back just enough to avoid causing any permanent damage. The robber¡¯s suit was durable, but even it couldn¡¯t handle the raw force Jace had unleashed.

    Staggering to his feet, the robber tried one last time to launch a desperate attack, activating the boosters in his suit to rocket toward Jace. But Jace simply sidestepped, grabbing the man mid-flight and slamming him into the ground with a force that left the floor cracked beneath him.

    The fight was over.

    Jace stood over the man, breathing evenly, his eyes calm but resolute. The police sirens wailed in the distance, and Jace knew it was time to leave.

    As he slipped out the back door and into the shadows, Jace couldn¡¯t help but smile to himself. He may not seek the spotlight, but in moments like this, he knew that his strength, his courage¡ªhis responsibility¡ªwould always lead him to the fight for what''s right

 Chapter 2

    The black was absolute. Not the soft, velvety black of a moonless night, but a crushing, swallowing black that pressed against his eyelids even though they were open. He felt weightless, adrift and heavy at the same time, Around Jace, faint, shifting patterns of ethereal light pulsed and flickered, like distant nebulae in a forgotten corner of the universe. He had no body, no limbs, just a sense of consciousness floating in the void.

    Then, the voice. It wasn''t a sound that traveled through air, but a vibration that resonated within his very being. A thunderous, ancient voice that seemed to emanate from the fabric of the darkness itself."Hear me thou mortal ! the mantle of strength," the voice continued, "has lain dormant for ages, awaiting a worthy successor. Your spirit, young one, is resolute, your heart pure. You are the one." the voice thundered"and I Ischys grant to you the unparalleled power of the God of abysmal might, use this newfound strength for what thine see as just" The words of command and call to responsibility echoed through the empty expanse, shaking the nonexistent ground beneath his nonexistent feet.

    The voice was a physical force, a shockwave that sent ripples through the darkness, distorting the faint patterns of light. He felt a surge of something akin to terror, but it was quickly swallowed by a wave of awe, a sense of being part of something vast and incomprehensible.

    His eyes snapped open. He was back. Back in his room, the familiar pale light of dawn filtering through the blinds.The sheets were tangled around his legs, and a thin sheen of sweat coated his forehead. His heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the silence of the room.

    He sat up, his breath ragged. The dream, if it was a dream, was so vivid, so real. The voice, the crushing darkness, the sense of being untethered ¨C it all lingered in his mind, a phantom echo of a reality he couldn''t quite grasp.

    He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, trying to shake off the lingering unease.The words echoed in his mind, a chilling whisper in the quiet dawn. He looked around his familiar room, trying to ground himself in the mundane reality of his life. But the void, the voice, the strange, ethereal space, had left an indelible mark, a question mark etched into the very core of his being.

    This was 2 months ago in which after Jace started exhibiting his monstrous ability,he kept it from everyone including his mother and trained until he could control the strength. The robbery the night before was one of the first real crime he had stopped

    "Jace " his mother called " hurry up and get ready for schoo " . With haste Jace took his vigilante clothes off , which he slept in and took his bath in preparation for another what he considered "mundane" day of activities

    "Goodbye mom" Jace shouted as he left his home for school . He and his mother lived alone in a duplex apartment as Jace lost his father when he was very much younger while Jace left for school his mother also left for place of work as one of the greatest minds in '' Pantheon Technologies '' one of the leading technological companies in the country, arguably in the world

    Ever since he got his powers Jace refused any form transportation to take him to school and went on his own as he saw it as an avenue of testing limits of his powers as he usually ran or leaped with his strength to school

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    Culers Senior High : 9 AM

    All the students of Grade 12 are in the class waiting on their next class where Jace spots Tank the class bully harassing the new kid Leo. Jace in his seat thinks to himself wether to stop Tank with his powers:

    "No, Jace, no. Just walk away. It''s not your fight. You''re supposed to be keeping your powers a secret. Tank''s a jerk, everyone knows it, but you can''t just¡­ boom, super-punch him into next Tuesday.But¡­ Leo''s terrified. Look at him. He''s practically shaking. Tank''s gonna keep doing this, and no one''s gonna stop him. Someone has to."

    "My hands are tingling. Just a little push... just a little tap on Tank¡¯s shoulder, and he¡¯d go flying. No one would get seriously hurt. Maybe. Just a little scare to teach him a lesson. A heroic lesson. Right? wrong!. So wrong" he thought to himself like he had an angel on his shoulder "What if I get to angry and lose control of my powers I could make things worse for everybody....But what about Leo? What about the next kid Tank picks on? Am I just supposed to watch? Am I supposed to pretend I don¡¯t have the power to stop it? He¡¯s laughing now. Tank''s laughing, and Leo''s face is red, and his eyes are watering. This is wrong. So wrong."

    "Okay, deep breaths, Jace. Talk it out. Words are powerful too, right? Maybe I can¡­ I can reason with him. Yeah, that¡¯s it...but what if he laughs at me? What if he just shoves me too? What if he knows something''s different about me now? What if he sees the power in my eyes?"

    " No more excuses. I can¡¯t stand here and do nothing. Leo needs help. And I don''t think concerns over my powers come first. No, Leo is in distress and that comes first"

    He stood from his seat and walked towards Tank, his voice tight. "Tank, just leave him alone."

    Tank turned, his eyes narrowing, a predatory grin spreading across his face. "Well, well, look who''s playing hero. You gonna stop me, Jace?"He knows something''s different. He can sense it. Jace''s heart pounded against his ribs, a frantic drumbeat against the rising tide of anger. He could feel the power surging, wanting to be released."

    "No. Control. It''s not worth it. Not for this.Just¡­ just back off, Tank," he repeated, his voice wavering slightly. He knew he sounded weak, pathetic.

    Tank laughed, a harsh, grating sound. "Or what? You gonna hit me with your¡­ your good grades?" He shoved Leo again, harder this time, and the boy whimpered.

    The image of Leo''s terrified face, the sound of his whimper, snapped something inside Jace. He couldn''t stand it anymore. He couldn''t just stand there and do nothing.

    But he didn''t want to lose control and become a tyrant or worse, government experiment He took a step closer, his eyes locking onto Tank''s. The tingling in his hands intensified, a burning sensation that spread through his entire body. He wasn''t going to hit him. He wasn''t going to use his powers. He was just going to¡­ stand his ground Tank''s grin faltered, a flicker of unease crossing his features. He could sense something was different. Jace wasn''t the same kid he''d shoved into lockers before. The air crackled with a barely perceptible energy, a silent threat that hung heavy in the hallway.

    "What''s wrong, hero?" Tank sneered, but the bravado was thin, a brittle shell over a growing apprehension. Jace didn''t answer. He just stood there, his gaze unwavering, the silence stretched, thick and tense, broken only by the faint hum of the fluorescent lights overhead. Tank shifted his weight, his eyes darting nervously around the hallway. He knew he was losing this confrontation, but he couldn''t back down. Not in front of everyone

    "You think you''re so tough now?" Tank growled, his voice strained. He balled his fists, the knuckles white. "You think you can take me?"

    Jace relaxed his face in anticipation of the punch from Tank he feigned being hurt by the pain by holding his face but he still maintained his gaze on Tank

    He took a deep breath, to maintain control. "Just¡­ just leave him alone, Tank," he repeated, his voice stronger this time, infused with a newfound confidence.

    Tank hesitated, his eyes narrowed, his face flushed with anger. He knew he was somehow outmatched, but he couldn''t bring himself to admit it. He took a step forward, his fist still raised.

    "Fine," he snarled, his voice laced with venom. "But this ain''t over." He shoved Jace roughly, then turned and stormed off to his seat, his shoulders hunched, his pride wounded.

    Jace stood there, his chest heaving, his hands still tingling with residual energy. He watched Tank take his seat then turned to Leo "You¡­ you okay?" Jace asked, his voice hoarse.

    Leo nodded, his voice barely a whisper. "Yeah¡­ thanks."

    Jace nodded back, then turned and walked away back to his seat , his mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He''d stopped Tank, and he hadn''t used his powers. He''d found a way to stand his ground without crossing the line. But he knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning. The real challenge was just beginning

 Chapter 3

    3:30 PM Culer City High

    The school bell¡¯s clang still echoed in Jace¡¯s ears,it signalled Closing time.Every student packed their bags and books as they prepared to leave, the hallways became noisy and rowdy.

    Jace moved across the crowd of students to find one student,"Leo!!" Jace called as he sighted Leo "mind if I walk with you ?".Leo nodded in agreement to Jace''s question and the two of them lessly struggled to go out of the school''s door as the crowd had begin to diminish. Leo shuffled beside him as they walked towards the bus stop, backpack bumping against his leg with each hesitant step. He kept glancing at Jace from the corner of his eye, a mix of gratitude and something else¡­ awe? It was a look Jace wasn''t used to. Usually, people just saw him as¡­ Jace. Average height, perpetually messy brown hair, the guy who always sat at the back of class and doodled in his notebooks. Not exactly hero material.

    ¡°Thanks again, Jace,¡± Leo mumbled, finally breaking the silence. His voice was still a little shaky. ¡°Seriously. For¡­ you know.¡±

    Jace shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. ¡°It was nothing, man. Tank¡¯s just¡­ Tank.¡± He tried to sound nonchalant, but a small thrill of pride flickered inside him. He had stood up to Tank. Without even flexing a muscle.

    ¡°Nothing?¡± Leo¡¯s eyes widened behind his thick glasses. ¡°Dude, nobody ever stands up to Tank. He¡¯s like¡­ a brick wall with anger issues.¡±

    A small smile tugged at Jace¡¯s lips. ¡°He¡¯s just a bully, Leo. They only have power if you let them.¡± It sounded like something out of a cheesy action movie, but he meant it. He¡¯d felt a surge of something real when he¡¯d faced Tank down ¨C not just anger, but a¡­ resolve.

    ¡°Easy for you to say,¡± Leo sighed, then quickly added, ¡°No offense! It¡¯s just¡­ you were really brave.¡±

    ¡°Nah,¡± Jace waved his hand in a dismissal motion, kicking a loose pebble down the road. ¡°Just¡­ tired of seeing him pick on people.¡±

    They walked in comfortable silence for a few moments. A robin chirped loudly from a bare tree branch overhead. The air smelled faintly of exhaust fumes and damp earth.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Leo started again, a little more confidently this time. ¡°Thanks for letting me copy your notes in class. Mr. Harrison is brutal when it comes to dictating notes.¡±

    Jace chuckled. ¡°Yeah, Harrison¡¯s something else. Did you understand that whole thing about the Culer City founders though? I still get them mixed up.¡±

    Leo frowned, adjusting his glasses. ¡°Culer City history¡­ it¡¯s a lot. Everything¡¯s new to me here, you know? We just moved here last month.¡±

    ¡°Oh, right,¡± Jace said, remembering vaguely that Leo was the new kid. ¡°How¡¯s Culer City treating you so far? Besides the Tank incident, I mean.¡±

    Leo shrugged, then considered. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ bigger than where I used to live. More people. School¡¯s¡­ well, school¡¯s school, right? But¡­ it¡¯s okay. People are¡­ okay.¡± He trailed off, then looked around at the street, lined with houses starting to show their age, but with gardens bravely pushing through early spring. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ different. Kind of¡­ livelier, I guess?¡±

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    Jace nodded, understanding. Culer City was a lot, especially if you weren''t used to it. ¡°Yeah, it can be. But there¡¯s good stuff too. You been downtown yet? The waterfront¡¯s pretty cool.¡±

    ¡°Waterfront?¡± Leo¡¯s eyes lit up a little. ¡°No, not yet. I¡¯ve mostly just been going between home and school.¡±

    ¡°We should check it out sometime,¡± Jace said, surprising himself a little with the invitation. ¡°They have this amazing ice cream place down there. ¡®Chill box'' ¨C you gotta try it.¡±

    Before Leo could answer, a heavier set of footsteps sounded behind them, breaking the fragile ease that had settled between them. Jace tensed, his senses sharpening. Jace¡¯s head snapped around. Tank, Marc, and Diaz were closing in fast. Anger flared in Jace, but he fought it down. Control. Secret. Leo gasped beside him, seeing them too.

    ¡°Well, well, well,¡± Tank¡¯s voice boomed, as they blocked the sidewalk. ¡°Look what we have here,¡± Tank drawled, his gaze flicking between Jace and Leo, lingering on Leo with a predatory gleam. ¡°Little Leo, and his¡­ protector.¡± He spat the last word like a curse.

    ¡°We don¡¯t want any trouble, Tank,¡± Jace said, trying to keep his voice even, firm. He stepped slightly in front of Leo. ¡°Just leave us alone.¡±

    Tank let out a harsh laugh. ¡°Leave you alone? After you embarrassed me in front of the whole school? Nah, Jace. That ain¡¯t how it works.¡± He took a step closer, his breath smelled of stale pizza and something vaguely metallic. ¡°You think you¡¯re tough now, huh? Standing up to me like that?¡±

    Jace held his ground, meeting Tank¡¯s gaze. ¡°I just stood up for what¡¯s right.¡±

    ¡°Right?¡± Tank scoffed , gesturing to Marc and Diaz with a jerk of his head. ¡°Let me show you what¡¯s ¡®right¡¯ in this school, tough guy.¡± Marc lunged, throwing a clumsy punch. Jace ducked. Diaz kicked ¨C Jace hopped back, balance wavering. Diaz cracked his knuckles,and he and Marc pressed their attack, wild punches and kicks. Jace weaved, dodged, deflected Marc¡¯s blow all while trying his best not use any of his strength. Leo stood frozen, terrified.

    Outnumbered, outmatched, Jace knew fighting was a mistake. Protect Leo. Protect his secret. He had to run.

    ¡°Run, Leo!¡± Jace yelled, pulling Leo with him. Before anger took over, before he used his strength, Jace turned and sprinted.Jace ran, yanking Leo with him, bus stop plan abandoned. "Waterfront!" he yelled, glancing back ¨C Tank and his crew were still chasing. "Faster, Leo!"

    "Waterfront? Bus stop!" Leo wheezed, stumbling.

    "Bus is out! Waterfront''s busier!" Jace shouted, pulling him down a side street towards downtown. They pounded the pavement, city sounds rising around them. Tank''s heavy footsteps seemed to fade slightly.

    "Alley!" Jace yelled, diving into a narrow passage between shops, dragging Leo. Boxes and bins cluttered the dim space.

    "Gonna be sick," Leo gasped, bending over.

    Jace stopped, concerned. "Leo! Okay?"

    Leo straightened, pale but grinning weakly. "Out of shape¡­ track practice," he wheezed, then chuckled. "Fleeing bullies¡­ new sport?"

    Jace laughed, surprised. "Fleeing Bully Dash! Olympics!" He pulled Leo onward, a grin spreading across his face despite the chase. "We''re pioneers!"

    Leo laughed too, breathless. "Gold medal¡­ for retreat!"

    "Exactly! And¡­ commentary during escape!" Jace grinned, adrenaline and laughter mixing. They were still running, still scared, but the shared absurdity had shifted something. They were the ''Fleeing Falcons'', escaping together, towards the waterfront¡­ and Chill Box ice cream. Maybe they¡¯d actually make it.

    They burst out of the alley and onto a wider street, blinking in the sudden sunlight. Ahead, Jace could see it ¨C the glint of water, the masts of sailboats bobbing in the harbor. The waterfront! And blessedly, people. Lots of them. Tourists, locals, street vendors, the usual Friday afternoon bustle.

    ¡°We made it!¡± Jace gasped, finally slowing to a jog, then a walk. Leo stumbled beside him, practically collapsing against a lamppost, wheezing like a punctured lung.

    ¡°Made it¡­¡± Leo echoed, sliding down to sit on the base of the lamppost. ¡°Pretty sure¡­ lungs¡­ stayed back¡­ in alley.¡±

    Jace leaned against the lamppost next to him, chest heaving, grinning. ¡°Nah, lungs are here. Just¡­ slightly relocated. Temporary lung vacation.¡±

    He scanned the crowd, no sign of Tank and his goons. ¡°Think we lost them?¡±

    Leo peered back the way they¡¯d come, then sagged with relief. ¡°Please¡­ please let them be¡­ defeated by¡­ alleyway garbage.¡±

    ¡°Agreed,¡± Jace chuckled. ¡°Garbage: 1, Bullies: 0. Official score.¡± He pulled out his phone, checked the time. ¡°Ice cream time?¡±

    Leo¡¯s eyes actually widened, despite his exhaustion. ¡°Ice cream? Seriously?¡±

    ¡°Seriously,¡± Jace nodded, pointing across the street. ¡°Chill Box. Best in Culers City. Fleeing Falcon victory celebration. My treat. Consider it¡­ apology for near-death experience.¡±

    Leo managed a weak but genuine smile. ¡°Apology accepted. Lead the way, Captain Falcon. To¡­ sugary freedom!¡±

    They limped across the street, a pair of slightly battered, definitely breathless, but undeniably grinning heroes of their own ridiculous chase. The bright, cheerful lights of Chill Box beckoned, promising sweet, cold relief and the perfect end to a very, very eventful walk home.

 Chapter 4

    The streetlights cast long, cool shadows as Leo and Jace walked the last block to Leo''s house. The sugar rush from the ice cream was starting to fade, replaced by a comfortable quiet. "Thanks for¡­ everything, Jace," Leo said, a small, genuine smile flickering across his lips. "Seriously. I don''t know what I would have done back there."

    Jace shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets, but a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Hey, what are friends for? Besides," he bumped Leo¡¯s shoulder lightly, "ice cream was on your tab next time, wasn¡¯t it?"

    Leo laughed, the sound lighter than it had been all day. "Definitely. Double scoop. Consider it payment for saving my skin." He stopped at his front steps. "See you around, Jace."

    "Later, Leo." Jace watched as Leo disappeared inside, the porch light briefly illuminating his retreating figure before winking out. He turned and started the walk home, the earlier adrenaline completely gone, replaced by a quiet contentment. He replayed moments from their escape in his head ¨C Leo¡¯s wide-eyed disbelief, the startled shouts of Tank¡¯s goons, the surprisingly sweet taste of mint chocolate chip. Yeah, it had been a good, if slightly insane, afternoon.

    His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out and glanced at the screen. A text from ¡®Mom.¡¯

    Hey sweetie, another late crunch at the lab. Don¡¯t wait up! Left you leftovers in the fridge. Big presentation tomorrow, wish me luck! Love you!¡±

    Jace sighed, but it wasn''t a sad sigh. More like an accepting one. He was used to nights alone. ¡°Leftovers it is,¡± he muttered to himself, pocketing his phone. The good mood from the ice cream and Leo lingered, but a different kind of energy started to bubble up now. Restlessness. Opportunity.

    As he reached his own house, he didn''t go inside. Instead, he kept walking towards the garage. He needed a change of clothes.

    Minutes later, the garage door hissed open and Jace emerged, transformed. The jeans and t-shirt were gone, replaced by darker denim and a plain black hoodie. He pulled the hood up, obscuring his features in shadow. The smile from earlier was gone, replaced by a focused, almost grim set to his jaw.

    Tonight, the neighborhood needed a little patrolling. And Jace, even if he couldn''t admit it fully to himself, needed a reason to use the strength that hummed beneath his skin. He stepped out into the cool night air, and started to walk,run and then with the monumentum he started leaping from rooftops to rooftops

    Jace barely took another breath when the night air exploded with sound. Tires screeched loudly, then a hard crash of metal. He quickly looked towards the noise ¨C Elm Street, further down from the alley.

    Using his strength, he jumped forward, going a long distance with each jump, landing hard on the ground. He rushed down Elm Street, covering the distance very fast.

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    Turning the corner, he saw what happened. A double-decker bus, a big heavy bus, was tipping dangerously over the edge of the bridge. It was leaning far out over the side. Next to it, separate from the bus, a black sports car lay upside down on the road, badly smashed. It looked empty. Sparks flew from the wrecked car. People screamed from inside the bus.

    He acted fast. People were in danger on the bus. He jumped towards the bus, not thinking about the drop below. He quickly found a strong point on the bridge railing near the tipping bus and grabbed hold of it tightly with one hand. Then, with his other hand, he reached out and grabbed a sturdy part of the bus frame that was still on the road. Using his super strength, Jace started to pull.

    Muscles straining, he hauled on the heavy bus, pulling it inch by agonizing inch back towards the road. The bus groaned and creaked, fighting against him, but Jace kept pulling, his feet braced against the bridge. Slowly, the bus started to move back, until finally, all its wheels were shuddering on solid ground again.

    He didn''t stop. He could hear scared shouts from inside. He looked at the bus doors and saw one set near the front was stuck, bent and not moving. With a loud grunt, he grabbed the stuck doorframe, braced his feet against the bus, and ripped. The metal tore loudly, and the door came off, leaving a rough opening into the bus.

    "Everyone out! Now!" Jace shouted loudly. He saw shocked faces looking at him, passengers realizing they were safe.

    Then, another loud engine sound, closer now. Jace glanced back towards Elm Street. Another black car, same as the first, was speeding towards the bridge, not caring about the crashed bus or the upside-down car. It swerved around the wrecks and sped up, going straight for¡­ further down the road, Jace saw it. A strong armored truck, plain and dark, was driving away fast.

    Reckless drivers. Chasing something. And putting everyone at risk. That was enough

    This time, he didn¡¯t jump forward. He jumped up. Straight up, using his strength to jump high, over the bridge railing in one jump. He landed hard on top of the black car chasing the armored truck, the metal bending under his weight.

    The driver inside swore and braked hard, the car skidding. Jace didn''t let him get control again. He grabbed the roof of the car with both hands, digging his fingers into the metal, and pulled back. He wanted to slow it, just stop the crazy chase.

    But his strength¡­ it was still too much. Metal screamed and ripped. The roof of the car tore off in his hands like paper, the windows broke outwards. The car jumped violently, stopping suddenly in the road, broken and sparking.

    The driver, surprisingly okay, climbed out of the wreck, his face twisted in anger. He wasn''t dressed like a racer. He wore dark clothes that looked useful, and as he moved, Jace saw shiny metal parts on his arms and legs. Tech?

    The driver growled, attacking Jace fast, throwing a punch at Jace¡¯s head. Jace, still a bit unsteady from breaking the car, just managed to block, the punch hitting his arm. Pain shot up his arm, sharper than he thought it would be. He looked down. The driver''s fist hadn''t just hit him ¨C something on his arm, a metal glove, had flashed blue when it hit.

    Jace stepped back quickly, making space. The driver kept attacking, moving fast, throwing punch after punch and kick after kick. Every hit, even light ones, sent shocks of pain through Jace. He realized ¨C it wasn''t just strength. The tech on the attacker¡¯s arms and legs made his hits much stronger and faster too

    He was defending, taking hits, trying to see how the guy moved, where he was weak. The attacker was fast, but his moves were almost¡­like a robot, easy to guess. And he was already breathing hard. Jace felt his own strength getting ready, his muscles getting used to the fight. He blocked another punch, this time catching the attacker''s arm and holding it tight. He twisted, using his super strength, wanting to stop him from using his arm, to get in control.

    Suddenly, a bright flash of light burst from behind him, with a loud whine. Pain exploded on his back, burning hot pain that made him gasp and his knees go weak. His grip on the attacker loosened, and he stepped forward, confused.

    He saw the first attacker step back, smiling smugly, as another person came from the shadows behind Jace. This one was taller, thinner, and also wore dark clothes like the first, but with something on his arm ¨C a dark grey device that was still quietly humming, with a little smoke coming from the tip.

    The world blurred. Jace wobbled on his feet, his sight going fuzzy. He tried to focus, to fight back, but the pain was too much, spreading from his back, taking away his strength. The last thing he saw before he passed out was the smug face of the first attacker and the cold eyes of the second, dark figures in the streetlight glow. Then, darkness.

 Chapter 5

    Jace was back in the void. The black, crushing space surrounded him, but now it felt¡­ familiar. Ethereal lights pulsed around him, like silent stars in an endless night. He drifted, bodiless, through the nothingness, a strange sense of peace washing over him amidst the emptiness. It was a stark contrast to the pain and chaos he vaguely remembered. This void felt almost¡­ comforting. But the comfort was fleeting. A jolt of pain, sharp and real, ripped through the ethereal calm, dragging him back. He gasped, his eyes snapping open.

    Confusion warred with pain. He was no longer floating. He was lying on something hard and cold. His head throbbed. His back burned. He tried to move, but his limbs felt heavy, unresponsive. He blinked, vision blurry, and saw¡­ metal. Cold, grey metal bands encircling his wrists and ankles. Tech. They had him restrained.

    Memory flooded back ¨C the bus, the chase, the fight, the energy blast from behind¡­ .They¡¯d captured him. Anger flared, hotter than the pain in his back. He wouldn¡¯t stay captive.

    Gathering his strength, focusing all his will, he flexed his muscles against the restraints. The metal bands hummed faintly, resisting. He pushed harder. He could feel the power coursing within him, the coiled energy ready to break free. With a roar held silent in his throat, he exploded outwards. Metal shrieked, alarms blared somewhere, and the bindings around his wrists and ankles snapped apart, torn and sparking.

    Free! He surged to his feet, the sudden movement making his head spin. He was in a room, small and stark, but not like the simple cell he¡¯d first thought. This was different. The walls were smooth metal, reflecting the harsh white lights overhead. Strange machines hummed in the corners, blinking with colored lights. Wires snaked along the walls. This wasn''t just a prison cell. This was a lab¡­ or something like it.

    There was only one way out, a heavy door set in the far wall. But in front of the door, something shimmered ¨C a wall of pale blue light, humming with energy. A force field.

    He ran towards the door, ignoring the stinging in his back, his focus solely on escape. He slammed into the blue force field. It crackled and flared, pushing back with surprising force, making him stumble. But it didn''t hold. He channeled his strength, focusing it into a single point, and punched. The force field rippled, bulged, then shattered with a sound like breaking glass, the blue light vanishing instantly.

    Alarm sirens wailed now, deafening, and red lights flashed, painting the lab-room in pulsing crimson. From the ceiling, small, sleek shapes descended, buzzing like angry wasps ¨C drones. All armed with a glowing emitter and turrets on their front.

    Beams of stinging energy lanced out, striking his arm,his leg,burning like fire ants. He grunted in pain,but kept moving. Jace leapt straight up, twisting mid-air as a volley of energy beams sliced through the space he''d just occupied. His hand shot out, fingers clamping around the cold metal body of a drone. The machine let out a shrill mechanical whine as he crushed its frame with a single squeeze, its whirring motors sputtering before dying completely. Without hesitation, he swung the lifeless drone like a massive club, its shattered propellers cutting through the air as he brought it crashing into another. A sharp crack split the room as both machines tumbled to the ground in a flurry of sparks and broken circuitry. Landing lightly, he ducked just in time to avoid another energy blast, feeling the heat graze past his cheek. He grabbed a fallen drone, yanking off its weaponized arm with a screech of metal before hurling it like a javelin at another attacker. The makeshift projectile spun through the air and struck dead-on, the drone jolting violently before detonating in a shower of sparks.

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    Jace was in rhythm now. Moving like a blur, he weaved through the remaining drones with lethal precision, dismantling them one by one. He caught another out of the air, twisting its turret backward to make it fire into its own core, reducing it to burning scrap. Another drone rushed him, but he slammed his fist through its chassis, sending fragments flying as it collapsed lifelessly. He ducked and rolled, grabbing another downed machine and turning its own laser against the rest, carving through their ranks with ruthless efficiency. What had started as an overwhelming assault was now a massacre. Jace was a force of destruction, using his strength, speed, and sheer ferocity to tear through the machines, turning their own advanced technology against them in a relentless dance of chaos.

    With the drones destroyed, he turned towards the door he¡¯d broken through. Adrenaline pumping, heart pounding, he was ready to finally escape this place. He stepped through the doorway and froze.

    He wasn¡¯t free. Not even close.

    Beyond the door wasn¡¯t an escape route, but another room. A wide corridor, and it was packed. A platoon of figures in dark uniforms stood shoulder to shoulder, lining the corridor, blocking his path. Each one held a large, energy rifle with glowing barrels, all aimed directly at him.

    And in front of the platoon, three figures stood out. The two assailants from the bridge, the ones with the tech-enhanced limbs, stood flanking a third man in the center. This man was different. Taller than the others, broader, with a harsh, angular face and cold, assessing eyes that seemed to bore right through Jace.He wore a dark, tailored suit, not uniform, and an air of absolute command radiated from him.This was the one in charge.

    The man in the suit raised a hand, a slow, deliberate gesture that silenced the alarms, cut off the flashing red lights, plunging the corridor into a stark, tense silence. Only the low hum of the energy weapons and the heavy sound of Jace¡¯s own panting broke the stillness.

    "Stand down," the man''s voice cut through the silence, cold and sharp, like shards of ice "it''s over"

    Jace stood his ground, fists clenched, red targeting dots dancing across his hoodie and just before Jace leapt to continue his escape , the air itself shifted. An invisible pressure slammed into him, not like a physical blow, but a force pressing inwards from all sides, trying to compress him, to force him back. It was disorienting, subtly sickening, as if gravity itself was warping around him, pushing and pulling him in conflicting directions instinct took over. Jace braced himself, his muscles screaming as they instantly engaged, resisting the unseen assault. He planted his feet, digging into the floor, his fists clenching, Axel watched Jace¡¯s reaction. He was testing the limits, probing Jace¡¯s defenses. The enhanced youth was raw, untrained, but the sheer magnitude of his resistance was undeniable. He was holding firm against a focused gravitational manipulation that would have sent a normal human sprawling, and even given other enhanced individuals pause

    The leader''s flicker of amusement vanished. "Allow me proper introductions. I am Axel Reed. And this," he gestured to the the platoon, "is Counter-Defence against Enhanced."

    Jace scoffed. "Counter-Defence against... You call kidnapping and attacking me ''defence''? Let me attack for real then so I can see your real defense."

    A cold smile touched Axel Reed¡¯s lips. "Threats. Predictable. Demonstration it is." He raised a hand slightly outwards.

    The invisible force increased in power slamming Jace. A crushing weight pressed down, gluing his feet to the floor. Muscles strained against an unseen pressure. He grunted, surprised.

    The smile on Axel Reed¡¯s face widened, predatory. "Gravitational manipulation."

    Jace grit his teeth, trying to move, to leap, but he was encased in lead. The force intensified, pushing him down. His knees buckled. He fought to stay upright, but it was no use.

    With a final surge of gravity, Jace was forced to his knees, then onto his chest, sprawling on the cold floor, pinned, helpless. The red targeting lasers mocked his prone form.

    Axel Reed stood over him, absolute control in his eyes. "Perhaps now," Reed said, his voice laced with steel, "you understand the reality. Stand down, Mr Jace Carter!. Resistance is unwise."

 Chapter 6

    Cuffing Jace hadn''t been difficult, his initial burst of power seemingly exhausted or suppressed. He moved stiffly, shoulders hunched as two officers dragged him down a corridor and into a stark, windowless room. The air inside felt cold, sterile, the only furniture a heavy steel table bolted to the floor and three chairs arranged around it. Axel, followed closely by Rob and Steve, entered, the rest of the platoon remaining outside, a silent, watchful presence.

    Axel took the chair opposite Jace, Rob and Steve flanking him, their usual swagger diminished in the confined space. He leaned forward, his gaze intense. "Let¡¯s try this again, shall we, enhanced?" He let the word hang in the air, a clinical label rather than an accusation. "I am Axel Reed. And this," he gestured, a clipped movement of his hand to Rob and Steve, "is Counter-Defense Against Enhanced."

    Jace¡¯s brow furrowed, the confusion returning, momentarily eclipsing the simmering anger in his eyes. "Enhanced? You keep saying that word¡­ like it¡¯s a bad thing. Like¡­ like me?" He gestured at himself again, a bewildered shake of his head.

    Axel¡¯s lips tightened, a vein pulsing faintly at his temple. "It''s not about good or bad, Jace. It''s about¡­ potential. Individuals possessing abilities beyond the natural human range," he enunciated each word carefully, "represent a potential¡­ disruption. An instability." He stepped closer to the table, his voice dropping slightly, becoming almost conversational, yet retaining a hard edge. "CDE exists to manage¡­ maintain¡­ the established order. And right now, your actions are distinctly¡­ un-managed."

    He paused, letting his words sink in before pressing the core question. "So, let''s cut to the chase. Why were you protecting the maker?"

    Jace blinked, genuine bafflement etched on his face. "The¡­ maker?" He tilted his head, looking from Axel to Rob and Steve, a flicker of hope in his eyes as if they might understand what he was missing. "Who are you talking about? I don¡¯t¡­ I don¡¯t know any maker."

    Rob scoffed, shifting impatiently in his chair. "You rip my car apart! Will you allowed him, the maker, to make a getaway then you attacked me!"

    Jace¡¯s confusion deepened, hardening into a frustrated frown. "I lost control of my powers, okay? And I only defended myself after you attacked me! You came at me first!"

    Steve leaned forward, placing a hand gingerly on his own face, wincing slightly as if touching a bruise. "Yeah, and then I came and saw you guys scuffling, and knocked you out." He rubbed his cheek again for emphasis.

    Jace rolled his eyes, exasperated. "I still don¡¯t know who this ¡®maker¡¯ is you keep talking about! I stopped you two because you were causing havoc! The bridge was falling apart, people were screaming! It looked like¡­ like you were trying to rob an armoured truck. The one carrying money!" He spread his hands, gesturing wildly, his voice rising in pitch. "What maker are you even talking about? I just stopped you from¡­ from killing people and stealing money!"

    Silence fell in the room, thick and heavy. This time, however, the silence carried a different weight, a palpable shift in the atmosphere that Axel absorbed instantly. Rob and Steve remained locked in their self-justification, oblivious to the gathering storm.

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    Axel¡¯s face, previously firm and controlled, remained outwardly composed. There was no visible flush, no dramatic paling. His expression didn¡¯t waver, yet a subtle hardening set in around his eyes, a barely perceptible tightening of his jaw. Internally, however, a cold wave of realization washed over him. The "armoured truck." It wasn¡¯t just a random vehicle. It was the vehicle. The Maker''s mobile lab. The sheer scale of their miscalculation, the potential ramifications of attacking the Maker¡¯s own transport while completely misreading the situation¡­ it was a catastrophic failure of intelligence, a professional nightmare.

    The carefully constructed mask of authority didn''t shatter, but it became a steelier, more dangerous mask. He didn''t avert his gaze to the table. His eyes remained fixed, but their focus sharpened, the intensity now laser-focused. The subtle discomfort from before solidified into a glacial certainty ¨C this was a disaster.

    He cleared his throat, the sound sharp and precise in the sudden stillness. His voice, when he finally spoke, was lower, colder, the usual unwavering certainty now laced with an undercurrent of something far more dangerous ¨C controlled fury. "Armoured truck¡­ money¡­" He repeated the words deliberately, each syllable clipped and precise, the weight of their implications hanging heavy in the air. He turned his head, his gaze now locking onto Rob and Steve. It wasn''t embarrassment they would see in his eyes. It was the chilling appraisal of a leader assessing a critical failure, a leader now contemplating the consequences for those responsible.

    Axel remained silent for a long, tense moment, his gaze locked on Rob and Steve. Then, with a barely perceptible nod of his head, he gestured towards the officers flanking Jace. "Remove the leg restraints. And one from his arm."

    The officers moved quickly, unclipping the heavy cuffs, leaving one cuff on Jace¡¯s left wrist, still attached to the table. It was a calculated gesture ¨C a loosening of control, not a complete release.

    Axel leaned back slightly in his chair, a subtle shift in posture that suggested a change in tack. His voice, while still firm, lost some of its earlier edge, becoming almost¡­ analytical. "Let''s clarify a few things. Based on what we''ve heard, and¡­ some recent realizations¡­" He paused, letting the unspoken implication of ''recent realizations'' hang in the air, a pointed jab at Rob and Steve without explicitly calling them out.

    "It appears my men were¡­ overzealous in their pursuit. Their methods endangered civilian lives. That is unacceptable." He stated it plainly, directly, a mark of a leader willing to acknowledge fault, even if indirectly. "Furthermore," he continued, turning his gaze momentarily towards Jace, "you, while acting with perhaps¡­ good intentions, misread the situation. And," his gaze hardened slightly again, "you demonstrated a¡­ concerning lack of control over your abilities. A lack of control that caused significant damage."

    He paused again, letting his words land before delivering the core information. "The individual we were pursuing¡­ the one you referred to as being in the ''armoured truck''¡­ is known as the Maker. He is distributing¡­ enhanced technology. And understand this clearly, Jace, this technology¡­ is dangerous in its own right. Just as dangerous as any enhanced individual, perhaps more so. It is designed to replicate, amplify, and weaponize abilities that should not be replicated or amplified. It is falling into the hands of¡­ less than reputable individuals. Low-level criminals."

    As Axel spoke of "enhanced tech" ¨C technology as dangerous as enhanced individuals ¨C a cold dread washed over Jace. Weaponize abilities. The words echoed in his mind, instantly pulling him back to the convenience store robbery. He saw it again, vivid and sharp: the panicked cashier, the shelves overturned, and the robber¡­ He remembered the distorted voice, the boast of a suit that "can level buildings." A sleek, black full body suit that amplified strength to a point where metal groaned and sparked under pressure. He recalled the hidden blade, the sudden burst of rocket boosters for a desperate attack. This tech wasn''t just gadgets; it was raw power, weaponized and readily available. The encounter now felt less like a contained incident, and more like a terrifying glimpse of a future filled with threats he barely understood, amplified by technology that shouldn''t exist.Axel, observing the stark shift in Jace¡¯s demeanor, the palpable fear now etched on his face, continued, his tone shifting again, this time to something approaching¡­ contrition, though still carefully measured. "Jace," he said, his voice softening marginally, "it appears we¡­ acted prematurely. Based on incomplete information. For that," he inclined his head very slightly, a curt, formal gesture, "I apologize. You were treated as hostile¡­ when perhaps you were not."

    But the apology was quickly followed by a stark warning. "However," Axel¡¯s voice hardened once more, the steel returning, "that does not negate the fundamental issue. Your¡­ lack of control, Jace. Abilities like yours, untamed, undirected¡­ will inevitably lead to hostile situations. Sooner or later, your lack of control would have made you a threat. And CDE¡¯s purpose is to manage¡­ potential threats, before they become reality

 Chapter 7

    The steel cuff on Jace''s wrist felt like a brand, a constant reminder of his current predicament. His mind raced, calculating angles, escape routes, the precise moment to break free. He was strong enough, he knew that now. That force field door, Axel¡¯s subtle pressure ¨C they were tests, and he had passed them. The single cuff was a formality, a psychological restraint more than a physical one. He was bracing himself, mentally preparing for the moment when talking ended and action began.

    "Am I¡­ staying cuffed then?" Jace asked, his voice carefully neutral, betraying none of the tension coiled beneath the surface. He met Axel¡¯s gaze directly, projecting a mixture of defiance and forced calm.

    Axel considered him for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a subtle shift in his posture, a slight relaxation of his shoulders. "No, Jace. You are not going to remain¡­ captured," he said, using the word deliberately, echoing Jace¡¯s unspoken concern.

    Jace blinked, a flicker of surprise momentarily breaking through his practiced composure. "Wait, how do you even know my name?" he blurted out, the question more reflexive than accusatory.

    A ghost of a smile touched Axel¡¯s lips, a brief flash of dry humor in his eyes. "Jace," he replied, his voice calm and even, "I lead Counter-Defense against Enhanced, knowing your name is¡­ the least amount of information I possess about you." The implication hung in the air, heavy and unspoken ¨C CDE knew far more.

    He leaned forward again, his tone becoming more direct, businesslike. "We are prepared to release you, under certain circumstances." He held up a hand, ticking off points. "Firstly, you will submit to a full physiological and¡­ power diagnostic. We need to understand the extent of your abilities, and any potential¡­ vulnerabilities."

    Axel paused, his gaze unwavering. "Secondly, we believe you could be¡­ an asset to CDE. You possess significant, if untrained, power. We can offer you¡­ structured training. Combat, control, understanding of your abilities. In return¡­" he paused again, letting the condition sink in, "¡­you would assist us. Specifically, in apprehending the Maker."

    Jace¡¯s brow furrowed. Asset? Training? It was¡­ unexpected. Intriguing, even. The idea of understanding his powers, learning to control them, was undeniably appealing. But asset to CDE? Catching the Maker? It all felt¡­ big. Too fast.

    "I¡­ I''m still in high school," Jace said, the words feeling almost absurd in the stark interrogation room. "I don''t know about being an¡­ asset. And I don''t see how I can just¡­ help you catch the Maker. I barely know who he is." He paused, then, honesty overriding his caution, added, "But¡­ training. Yeah. I¡­ I think I need training. Badly."

    A flicker of something ¨C understanding? ¨C crossed Axel¡¯s face. "High school," he repeated slowly, as if considering the concept for the first time in years. "That¡­ could be problematic." Then, his gaze sharpened, a calculating glint returning to his eyes. "Unless¡­ we remove the problem. We are equipped to¡­ facilitate adjustments to your¡­ schedule." The way he said "facilitate adjustments" hung heavy with unspoken implications, suggesting more forceful solutions.

    Jace¡¯s eyes widened slightly. Remove the problem? Was Axel suggesting¡­ "No! No, I don''t mean¡­ destroy the school," Jace clarified quickly, a touch of alarm in his voice. "I mean¡­ I still need to, you know, go to school. Just¡­ maybe we can work around it? Like¡­ a part-time job? Something that explains why I''m not always around, but still¡­ normal?" He gestured vaguely, trying to articulate his need for a semblance of his old life alongside this new, overwhelming reality.

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    Axel was silent for a moment, considering Jace¡¯s suggestion. Then, a slow nod. "Part-time job," he repeated, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. "A¡­ plausible cover. Yes. That could be¡­ arranged." He straightened, the businesslike tone returning in full force. "Very well, Jace. We have an accord. First, the diagnostic. Then, we equip you."

    Within the hour, the interrogation room was replaced by a gleaming medical bay. Wires and sensors were attached, scans were run, questions were asked, probing not just his physical body but, it felt like, the very essence of his powers. It was invasive, clinical, but also¡­ reassuringly thorough. When it was done, and he was led back to a less sterile, but still functional room, clothes were laid out for him. Not the drab sweats he''d expected, but a soft, dark grey hoodie, comfortable jeans, and a sleek, black masked spandex suit that felt surprisingly supple, folded neatly, subtly contoured, undeniably cool.

    Finally, an officer handed him a small, sealed packet. "Pain relievers," he explained, his voice curt but not unkind. "Specially formulated for¡­ enhanced physiology. You might find them¡­ useful." Jace took the packet, the weight surprisingly comforting in his hand

    Jace shrugged into the soft hoodie and pulled on the jeans, the unfamiliar fabric feeling strangely comforting after the scratchy jumpsuit. He carefully folded the black spandex suit and tucked it, along with the pain relievers, into the provided duffel bag. He was still adjusting to the rapid shifts in his situation, the interrogation room feeling like a distant, unpleasant memory now, replaced by¡­ well, he wasn''t entirely sure what this was. Freedom? A gilded cage? He wasn''t free of the cuff, not entirely, but the shift in tone was undeniable.

    "Where to now?" Jace asked the officer who reappeared at the door.

    The officer, impassive and efficient, simply nodded. "This way."

    As they walked, Jace tried to catch sight of Axel. "Is Axel around? I wanted to¡­ thank him, I guess." It felt weird to be grateful to the guy who''d just intimidated and interrogated him, but a part of him recognized the shift in demeanor, the almost¡­ apology.

    The officer¡¯s expression remained unchanged. "Mr Reed is currently unavailable." It was curt, final, and offered no further explanation.

    They arrived at another room, this one larger and more dimly lit than the medical bay. Inside, people in white coats moved with purpose, attending to various consoles and equipment. In the center of the room, on a raised platform, was a circular podium. It was crafted from a material that looked like glass, but possessed a strange, internal luminescence, a soft neon blue glow emanating from within its depths. Intricate patterns, almost like circuitry, pulsed faintly beneath the surface, adding to its otherworldly feel.

    As Jace stepped into the room, one of the white-coated technicians gestured towards the podium with a silent nod. Hesitantly, Jace approached it, climbing the podium. It felt like glass. He opened his mouth to ask what it was for, but before he could utter a word, the room hummed with a rising intensity. A bright, cerulean light bloomed from beneath the podium, bathing the platform and then Jace himself in an incandescent glow. It was warm, not painful, but intensely bright, momentarily blinding. He instinctively shielded his eyes with his cuffed hand.

    Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped. The light vanished. The humming ceased. He blinked, his vision swimming for a moment, and then cleared. He was no longer in the dimly lit room.

    He was¡­ home.

    Familiar posters adorned his walls, his slightly messy bed was unmade in the corner, and the faint scent of leftover pizza hung in the air. Disbelief warred with astonishment. He stumbled forward, touching his desk, his books, the worn-out rug on the floor. It was all real. He rushed to the window, peering out at the familiar street, the pre-dawn quiet of his neighborhood just starting to stir. He was home. Teleportation. It had to be teleportation. That podium¡­ that light¡­

    Shaking his head in bewildered wonder, he pulled out his phone, intending to check the time, maybe see if anyone had messaged. But the device in his hand wasn''t his familiar, cracked-screen phone. It was sleek, new, and unfamiliar. He frowned, unlocking it. It looked¡­ identical to his old phone in terms of interface, same apps, same contacts, but¡­ different. He checked the time. 6:00 AM. Exactly. No time had seemed to pass at all. His breath hitched in a scoff of bewildered amusement. They¡¯d even replaced his phone.

    He was hungry. The adrenaline and the weirdness of the last few hours had worked up an appetite. He headed to the fridge, pulled out the cold pizza from last night ¨C thankfully, no CDE dietary restrictions were being enforced yet ¨C and devoured a slice standing at the counter. Then, remembering the packet, he tore it open and swallowed a couple of the special pain relievers with a gulp of water. Almost instantly, a soothing warmth spread through his muscles, easing the lingering aches from his¡­ encounter.

    Finally, exhaustion crashing over him, he slumped onto his bed, still in the new hoodie and jeans, and pulled the covers over himself. The black masked spandex suit remained in the duffel bag, silent promises of a future he was only just beginning to comprehend. Sleep came quickly, a deep, dream-filled slumber that finally allowed him to process, or perhaps simply escape, the bewildering reality of his new life.

 Chapter 8

    Jace woke slowly, a hazy sense of disorientation clinging to him like sleep dust. Sunlight, filtering weakly through his blinds, painted stripes across his face. He stretched, muscles protesting with a dull ache even the special pain relievers hadn''t fully erased. Reaching for his new phone, he instinctively checked for notifications. And froze.

    His lock screen was flooded. Messages, missed calls, social media alerts blinking furiously. Confusion morphed into a cold spike of panic as he unlocked the phone. Someone was trending. Or rather, something. Memes. So many memes. "Bridge Hero" was all over the place. "Double Decker Dynamo." "Door Ripper Supreme." "Bus-tling Biceps." "Justice for Bus Door (and Double Decker Buses Everywhere!)" Each one depicting a slightly different, often ludicrous, take on the bridge incident. One showed a stick figure with comically oversized biceps labeled "Hero" pulling a ridiculously tall double-decker bus uphill and ripping its door off. Another was a photoshopped image of Atlas holding the world, except the world was a double-decker bus and he was using one hand to casually tear off its door. A new meme format emerged: "Double Decker Door Rip Challenge" ¨C people filming themselves struggling to open regular doors with exaggerated effort. They were everywhere, these anonymous tributes to the figure who saved the double-decker bus, its door, and now inspired bizarre online challenges.

    His heart hammered against his ribs. He was exposed. They¡¯d found him. CDE would be furious. He scrolled frantically through the messages, a knot of dread tightening in his stomach. ¡°Dude, did you see that Bridge Hero video?!¡± ¡°Who was that guy on the bridge?!¡± ¡°OMG DOUBLE DECKER BUS SAVER AND DOOR RIPPER IS REAL?!¡± Mixed in with the hero worship and double-decker bus/door-ripping jokes, though, skepticism remained, now battling against a rising tide of genuine awe. "Okay, bus pulling a double decker is nuts, door rip is insane. Still gotta be fake, right? Right?" "Guys, seriously, it''s a double decker! Physics says NO. But... the video... " However, the believers were getting louder, more insistent. "For anyone saying fake, explain the door rip on a double decker bus. Explain it! #EnhancedHumansAreReal" "Double decker bus. Door ripped. Case closed. He''s real."

    He scrambled out of bed, his head a mess of panicked thoughts, and searched for a news outlet. Finally, he found a local news website. There it was. The bridge collapse. And then¡­ the double-decker bus. The video, shaky and pixelated, showed him ¨C a blurry figure ¨C somehow hauling the massive double-decker bus backwards with incredible force, dragging it away from the collapsing edge and back onto solid ground. The crowd cheering was even louder in this version, more visceral. Then, the video clearly showed him approach the mangled emergency exit door of the double-decker bus. In a quick, almost brutal motion, his hands blurred, and the heavy metal door sheared off its hinges with a sickening tear, crumpling like foil and revealing the terrified faces of the passengers within. Then, it showed the bus passengers, on both levels of the double-decker, already emerging, blinking in the sunlight, helped down by uniformed officers. The door ripping, in this version, was undeniable, visceral, and frankly, kind of terrifyingly impressive.

    He watched it again, his brow furrowed, and finally read the accompanying news article properly. The headline screamed: ¡°Mystery Hero Pulls Double-Decker Bus Back from Bridge Collapse, Rips Door Open ¨C Reckless Driver Blamed for Tragedy!¡± The article detailed the bridge collapse as an ¡®unfortunate structural failure, exacerbated by a tragic traffic accident.¡¯ It stated that a ¡®reckless driver, later identified as David Miller, had tragically lost their life after losing control of their vehicle and careening into the bridge support, causing the initial damage that led to the double-decker bus dangling precariously.¡¯ The focus was firmly on the ¡®reckless driver¡¯ as the cause of the tragedy, and the ¡®Mystery Hero¡¯ as the silver lining, the one bright spot in an otherwise unfortunate incident.

    He watched it again, his brow furrowed. The chaotic aftermath, the collapsed section of the bridge¡­ it was all presented as an ¡®unfortunate structural failure¡¯ and the fault of a deceased reckless driver. No mention of the two men in black causing havoc, no armoured truck, no fight. Nothing about CDE. It was just¡­ a heroic rescue, complete with impossible strength, door-ripping theatrics on a double-decker bus, and a convenient scapegoat in the form of David Miller. CDE''s spin was getting¡­ elaborate, and increasingly, unbelievably audacious.

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    A slow dawning realization replaced his panic. Manipulation, CDE. They¡¯d cleaned it up. Erased their own disastrous involvement, sanitised the story, blamed a convenient deceased party. They were playing the narrative, controlling the story, and they were masters at it. Too good. And a little¡­ terrifying.

    He showered quickly, the hot water doing little to soothe the lingering unease. It was Saturday. Leo. He needed to talk to Leo. He politely knocked the door Silence. He tried the bell. Still nothing. Peeking through the window, he saw the house was empty. Leo and his parents must be out.He debated calling, but something told him it wasn¡¯t worth it.

    His next thought? His mom.

    He rarely got to surprise her at work, and after everything lately, showing up at Pantheon Technologies might actually make her happy. Maybe he could grab some takeout and¡ª

    BZZT.

    His phone vibrated. Unknown number. A single, blunt message, no greeting, no pleasantries, just: ¡° 137 Forgeway Street, Red Oven Pizzeria. Be there in 15 minutes.¡±CDE. Straight to the point, just like Axel

    Red Oven Pizzeria was located in an old industrial district, tucked between abandoned warehouses and rusting storage yards. Known for it greasy absurdly cheap pizza, sticky tables, tattered surroundings it was the perfect place for anonymity. He sighed, the thought of seeing his mom receding. Duty called, or rather, ordered.

    Red Oven Pizzeria was predictably deserted at this hour. He walked in, the aroma of cheap tomato sauce thick in the air. A lone figure behind the counter, wiping it down with a rag, barely glanced up. As Jace hesitated, a hand gestured subtly from a darkened corner of the restaurant. He walked towards it, past empty booths and flickering neon signs, until he reached a door at the back. Hesitantly, he entered, stacks of pizza boxes lined one wall, flour dust coated the stainless steel surfaces, and the air smelled faintly of yeast and cleaning fluid the room was just a room just as he was about to open the door to leave the room shuddered violently. The floor beneath his feet dropped away with stomach-lurching speed. The chatter of the ''pizza employees'' above abruptly cut off as the entire space plummeted downwards with a rush of air and a muffled grinding sound.

    He opened the door onto a brightly lit, humming corridor. Before he could even take in his surroundings, before he could admire the clean, almost sterile lines of the underground facility, two figures blurred into motion, slamming into him from either side.

    Pain exploded in his ribs, knocking the air from his lungs. He stumbled back, disoriented, catching a glimpse of black, armored figures, moving with impossible speed and precision. Enhanced tech. They were in suits, just like the robber, only these were¡­ different. More streamlined, more menacing.

    ¡°Useless footwork!¡± one of them snarled, his voice distorted by a modulator in his helmet. ¡°Predictable telegraphing!¡±

    A fist, encased in metal, slammed into his jaw, snapping his head back. ¡°Defense like paper!¡± the other one roared, his movements a whirlwind of controlled aggression. ¡°You call that power? Control is power! Control!¡±

    They were relentless, a flurry of calculated blows and brutal instructions. Jace, still reeling from the surprise attack, fought back instinctively, relying on raw strength and speed, but it was chaotic, untrained. He took hits, grunting with pain, but his enhanced durability kept him standing. He managed to land a few blows of his own, feeling the satisfying crunch of metal on metal as his fist connected with a suited arm or leg. He was getting stronger, faster, adapting, even in the chaos. He could feel the tide turning, his raw power starting to overwhelm their initial assault.

    Just as he was about to capitalize on an opening, to unleash a truly devastating blow, a voice cut through the din of the fight. "Enough."

    The two armored figures instantly froze, stepping back, their movements as synchronized in stopping as they were in attacking. Axel stood at the end of the corridor, watching them, his expression unreadable with his aura of authority radiating through their surroundings.

    He walked forward, his gaze sweeping over Jace, assessing the sweat, the grit, the burgeoning determination in his eyes. "Jace," he said, his voice calm and even amidst the residual tension, "Welcome to your training facility. These lovely people," he gestured to the two armored instructors, who removed their helmets, revealing grim, professional faces, "are Kai and Zara. Your primary combat instructors. You will also have¡­ guest instructors, specializing in various disciplines."

    Axel inclined his head, a curt, almost dismissive gesture. "Good luck, Jace. You''ll need it." And then, with that enigmatic farewell, he turned and walked away, leaving Jace alone with Kai and Zara, and the daunting reality of what was to come.

    Zara, her dark eyes sharp and intense, stepped forward, cracking her knuckles. "Alright," she said, her tone all business. "Let''s start with the basics. Hand-to-hand. You fight like a panicked toddler flailing at shadows. We¡¯re going to fix that. Starting now."

 Chapter 9

    Four weeks into his new reality, Jace existed in a state of constant friction. School, once the central point of his life, was now a meticulously maintained facade. He kept his grades solid, his enhanced mind efficiently processing information even on minimal sleep, but it felt¡­ detached. Superficial. His friendship with Leo, still relatively new, was fraying at the edges. Their connection had been built on shared classes and quick lunchtime chats, confined to the school day. Now, even those brief interactions were strained, filled with Jace''s hurried excuses and Leo¡¯s increasingly withdrawn silence. It was a school-day friendship struggling to survive outside the school walls, starved of genuine connection.

    His mom¡¯s worry was a palpable presence in their small apartment. She watched him with a quiet intensity, her concern a constant hum beneath the surface of their stilted conversations. Pantheon Laboratories, her world of demanding but understood work, offered no comfort in the face of his increasingly erratic schedule. He¡¯d become adept at the late-night return, the silent slide into his room, letting her assume he was simply exhausted from his ¡°delivery job.¡± The lie felt heavier with each passing day.

    Weekdays after school, weekends were swallowed whole by CDE''s relentless training regime at Red Oven Pizzeria. Weekdays focused on foundational combat skills with Kai and Zara. Weekends were a deep dive, bringing in a rotating roster of guest instructors. He''d sparred with a whip-fast, cybernetically enhanced named Renaldo, learned grappling techniques from a stoic, heavily augmented Judoka called Anya, and endured brutal endurance drills under the watchful eye of a silent, instructor named Gideon. Each instructor brought a different fighting style, different augmentations, a different facet of combat expertise, pushing him in new and agonizing ways.

    Beyond combat, his training was equally diverse. Tactical analysis sessions were led by a sharp, analytical woman named Seraphina, who used holographic simulations and complex algorithms to sharpen his strategic thinking. Stealth and infiltration were taught by a wiry, enigmatic man known only as Wraith, who moved with unsettling silence and drilled him in evasion, surveillance, and blending into the shadows. Even lock-picking and secure comms had their specialist instructors, each piece designed to mold him into something¡­ more.

    The black Spandex suit he wore to protect his identity within the facility did nothing to make the relentless training any easier. Form-fitting and constricting, it trapped sweat against his skin and muffled sounds within the claustrophobic mask. Yet, from his second session onwards, it was a constant part of the experience, a symbol of his separation from his old life, a uniform for this new, brutal reality.

    In the Red Oven Pizzeria¡¯s training room, always clad in the black suit, facing Kai and Zara again, the familiar, almost mocking, meme-derived nicknames still peppered their instructions, but the tone had shifted. Zara, sometimes, would just call him ¡°Chico,¡± a curt, almost impatient nickname in Spanish.

    ¡°Stance, Dynamo! You¡¯re telegraphing again.¡± Zara corrected, her voice sharp but less overtly derisive than in the early days.

    Kai pressed his attack, a relentless series of punches and kicks, each movement precise, controlled, and designed to exploit any opening. ¡°Hands tighter, Ripper. Guard is too wide.¡±

    He was improving, yes. He could last longer, endure more, even land the occasional counter. But the relentless pressure, the sheer volume of training, was starting to chafe.

    ¡°What¡¯s the point of all this?¡± he asked, gritting his teeth as he blocked a flurry of strikes through the restrictive fabric of the mask. ¡°All this¡­ training¡­ if I can¡¯t even¡­¡± He hesitated, searching for the right words, the words that wouldn¡¯t sound like outright defiance. ¡°If there¡¯s no chance to¡­ use it for something real?¡±

    He managed to create a hair''s breadth of space, pivoting away from Kai''s relentless advance, trying to catch his breath within the close confines of the mask. ¡°If it¡¯s just¡­ training¡­ for training¡¯s sake¡­¡±

    Zara cut him off with a sharp gesture, her dark eyes narrowing. ¡°Focus, Chico. Training is for mastery. Mastery is its own purpose. Now, footwork. Again.¡±

    Kai simply intensified his attack, a silent, brutal answer to Jace''s unspoken questions. He moved with even greater speed and force, each strike a calculated lesson in pain and discipline. There was no booming reprimand, no lecture about obedience. Just relentless, unforgiving training, pushing him harder, faster, demanding more focus, more control, more skill he fought back, instinctively, stubbornly, pushing through the burning muscles, the aching joints, the sweat-soaked suit, the rising tide of frustration. But the questions lingered, unaddressed, unanswered. He was being honed, sharpened, forged in the fires of relentless training, shaped by the hands of unseen masters within CDE. He was becoming a weapon, forged because of the Marker. CDE¡¯s interest in him, this relentless training¡­ it all stemmed from that chaotic night on the bridge. He was being molded, not for his own sake, not even necessarily for some grand heroic purpose, but for theirs, for CDE¡¯s agenda, linked inextricably to the Marker.

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    The evening training session was brutal. Sweat plastered the black Spandex to Jace¡¯s skin. Confined by the mask, the training room echoed with the constant thud of impacts and sharp gasps for air. Four weeks of this relentless training had sculpted his body, but his mind felt frayed at the edges.

    Zara¡¯s attacks were a relentless barrage of jabs and hooks, her voice a constant stream of demands. ¡°Faster, Chico! Elbows in! Guard higher!¡± Kai, a silent, looming presence, circled, watching, waiting.

    Jace moved with a new, brutal efficiency. He blocked, parried, dodged ¨C his body learning to react without thought. He was becoming what they wanted, a weapon. But the endless drills, the corrections, the suffocating mask ¨C tonight, it was all too much. Frustration simmered, questions he¡¯d suppressed clawed at the surface.

    He deflected a hard kick from Zara, the impact still jarring through his enhanced defenses, and retaliated with a rapid flurry of punches, a combo Anya had hammered into him. Zara moved fluidly, evading, but Jace pressed his attack, anger sharpening his strikes.

    ¡°What am I even doing this for?¡± The words burst out, tight with frustration, muffled by the mask. A solid jab connected with Zara¡¯s ribs, a grim satisfaction as she recoiled.

    Zara¡¯s eyes narrowed behind her visor. ¡°Focus, Chico. Control your breath.¡±

    Control was gone. The pressure, the confinement, the unanswered questions¡­ it was overwhelming. He attacked again, faster, harder, abandoning finesse for raw force, desperate to feel something other than the crushing weight of training.

    He saw a flicker, a momentary opening in Zara¡¯s guard, and reacted purely on instinct. A kick, a brutal sweep aimed at her head, surged from him ¨C weeks of training exploding in a moment of lost control.

    Zara reacted with incredible speed, twisting her head aside, narrowly avoiding the full force. But his heel still caught her temple, snapping her head back sharply. She stumbled, disoriented, a sharp gasp escaping her lips.

    Kai froze instantly. ¡°Zara!¡±

    The session ground to a halt. Zara straightened, touching her temple, her expression hidden, but the sudden, sharp tension in the room was palpable. He¡¯d gone too far.

    ¡°Enough,¡± Zara said, voice tight, controlled, an undercurrent he couldn''t read. Annoyance? Surprise? ¡°Session over.¡±

    Dismissed, he walked out, the echoes of the near-miss and his outburst ringing in his ears. Heart pounding, stomach knotted with anxiety. He¡¯d crossed a line.

    He moved through the facility towards the locker room, the low hum of the base a constant companion. Passing the common area, he noticed technicians and staff clustered around the news screen. Headlines flashed: ¡°CITY-WIDE UNREST REPORTED,¡± ¡°MULTIPLE ATTACKS ACROSS METRO AREA,¡± ¡°CIVILIAN CASUALTIES MOUNTING.¡± Images of chaos flickered across the screen ¨C overturned vehicles, flashing lights, terrified crowds.

    Jace stopped, a cold dread creeping into his stomach. Snatching snippets of hushed conversation: ¡°¡­completely overwhelmed.... coordinated attack¡­ incidents everywhere¡­¡±

    An Icy dread washed over him and panic surged, overriding training. He sprinted, adrenaline flooding him, back to the training room, to the hidden elevator. He had to get out. Get to his mom.

    He reached the corner, the unmarked door of the elevator, and Kai stepped directly into his path, blocking his escape. The armored figure loomed, implacable. Kai¡¯s hand clamped onto his shoulder, a restraining grip. ¡°Stand down, Jace. Last warning.¡±

    ¡°Kai, please!¡± Terror tightened Jace¡¯s voice. ¡°The news¡­ attacks¡­ everywhere¡­ my mom works at Pantheon! Pantheon Laboratories is under attack, I have to go!¡± He wrestled against Kai¡¯s grip.

    Kai¡¯s hold remained firm. ¡°Stand down, Jace. CDE is aware. But you remain here.¡±

    . ¡°Get out of my way!¡± Jace roared as he ripped free from Kai, launching himself into a desperate assault. He had to get past him. Get to his mom. Unleashing a wild flurry of blows, faster, more desperate than anything he¡¯d shown in training. Technique was irrelevant, control nonexistent. Only fear and desperation drove him.

    Kai was forced to engage, his movements fluid, defensive, deflecting Jace¡¯s frantic attacks. ¡°Dynamo! Stand down! That¡¯s an order!¡± Kai¡¯s voice remained calm, controlled, a stark contrast to Jace¡¯s raw panic.

    But Jace was beyond orders. He was fighting for his mother. He pressed his attack, forcing Kai back, against the padded walls.

    ¡°Sierra-Nine!¡± Kai¡¯s voice boomed, the coded alarm piercing the training room.

    Instantly, the training room was flooded with security. CDE personnel in black uniforms poured in, weapons raised, energy crackling. They encircled Jace, a tightening ring of opposition.

    Jace glanced around at the grim, unyielding faces. He didn''t want to fight them. But they stood between him and his mother. The elevator, his escape, was sealed, locked down, mocking him from the corner of the room. Escape blocked.

    He took a ragged breath, steeling himself against despair. Focus training, discipline, control, clarity emerged from the panic.

    Chaos erupted in the training room. Jace moved, a whirlwind of focused fury. He ducked under energy blasts, deflected strikes, hurled training dummies and pads, creating confusion. He wasn¡¯t flailing; he was fighting, channeling every lesson, every drill, every agonizing hour, fear transformed into terrifying efficiency.

    Figures fell around him, collapsing amongst the mats, groaning, gasping. He vaulted over obstacles, leaped off walls, using the familiar space to his advantage, fluid, predatory, attacks brutally precise. Energy blasts seared the air, ozone filling the enclosed space.

    He reached the corner, the elevator useless. His gaze snapped upwards ¨C the ceiling. The only remaining way out.

    Adrenaline surged, desperation fueling his muscles. He sprinted towards the wall, gathering momentum, muscles coiling, fist clenched. He leaped, launching himself upwards, explosive force aimed at the ceiling, at freedom.

    Crack-thump! His fist connected, shattering the thin ceiling. Concrete groaned, spider-webbed, then ripped apart. Dust, plaster, insulation rained down as he crashed upwards, bursting through into the Red Oven Pizzeria above.

    He landed in a shower of debris in the pizzeria, scattering startled staff, the pungent aroma of cheap tomato sauce suddenly overwhelming. He was in the pizzeria, blinking in the dim, artificial light, the sounds of sirens and shouts now much closer.

    No hesitation. No looking back at the chaos he left behind. He turned, ran, bursting through the pizzeria¡¯s front door, into the evening-shrouded city. Driven by a single, all-consuming terror: Mom. Pantheon Laboratories under siege. He had to reach her, whatever the cost.

 Chapter 10

    Sirens shrieked, a deafening cry that the city¡¯s evening thrum couldn¡¯t quite drown out. Jace, a silhouette clad in black spandex, flowed across rooftops, each movement a surge of controlled power, not just speed. Pantheon Laboratories, a colossal tower of glass and steel, pierced the horizon. He hauled his phone up, the infrared scan overlaying reality ¨C clusters of heat signatures, trapped figures huddled on a mid-level floor. Hostages. News feeds scrolled across the screen, stark and grim: Pantheon incident¡­ robbery¡­ hostages¡­ casualties confirmed. Four already: three security personnel, one worker ¨C uncooperative, the chilling euphemism flashed. Beneath his mask, Jace¡¯s jaw clenched, anger a cold knot.

    He bounded across the last rooftop expanse, landing with a silent roll. Pantheon. His mother¡­ fear, a paralyzing tendril, snaked through him, but he severed it, forcing focus back to the infrared readings. Fiftieth and first floor, robbers had split into groups

    Taking a deep, steadying breath, Jace sprinted, every muscle coiled and released, launching himself in a powerful arc towards a darkened window on Pantheon¡¯s 50th floor. The glass imploded inwards with a shattering roar as he crashed through, landing in a combat roll amidst the opulent wreckage of a corner office. Luxury furniture overturned, shattered screens flickered, but his focus locked on the scene before him: three figures, weapons trained on a trembling woman ¨C the Director, her face pale, etched with terror. Two hulking shapes in full body armor, tech-guns raised and spitting sparks, and the third¡­ radiating waves of visible heat, a shimmering aura distorting the air around him. Blaze.

    Before they could even register his arrival, Jace moved, a blur of calculated aggression. Blaze, the pyrokinetic, was the primary threat. He lunged, intending to neutralize him instantly. But even as his muscles coiled to spring, a wall of fire erupted, an incandescent barrier roaring into existence, cutting off the room, pushing back the very air with its heat. Blistering waves slammed into Jace, forcing him to stagger back, his eyebrows singeing, the air itself catching in his throat. He¡¯d underestimated Blaze¡¯s immediate, overwhelming defense.

    "We got company", Blaze¡¯s voice crackled, distorted by a vocal modulator in his helmet, laced with arrogant amusement. ¡°Fast? meaningless against fire.¡± Then hell unleashed. Fireballs erupted, not as single projectiles, but a barrage, a dozen incandescent spheres streaking towards Jace, filling the confined space with searing light and heat. Tech-gun fire from the armored robbers joined the assault, energy blasts tearing through the office, ripping through furniture, narrowly missing him as he moved. He didn''t just dodge ¨C he leapt and twisted, using his enhanced strength for bursts of impossible agility, turning the office itself into an obstacle course, bouncing off walls, vaulting over desks, fireballs exploding where he¡¯d been moments before, tech-fire scorching the walls inches from his head. He batted away incoming fireballs with powerful forearm blocks, the heat radiating through his suit, searing his skin beneath, the smell of burning fabric filling the air.

    Suddenly, Blaze moved, abandoning ranged attacks. The chain, until now coiled at his side, erupted into a searing inferno, licking flames dancing along its length. With a guttural cry, Blaze lashed out, the burning chain a whip of fire arcing towards Jace¡¯s neck. No time to evade. The chain snaked around his throat, biting into his flesh through the spandex, the burning links constricting, choking, searing. Agony flared, raw and immediate, stealing his breath, clouding his vision with white-hot pain.

    The two armored robbers pressed their advantage, advancing as Blaze held him captive, tech-guns spitting relentless energy blasts. They were a brutally efficient unit, attacks seamlessly coordinated. Blaze tightened the chain, the burning pressure intensifying, choking him, the metallic tang of blood filling his mouth. The two armored figures hammered at him ¨C armored fists like steel pistons slamming into his ribs, energy blasts concussive against his torso, each impact stealing what little breath he could manage. He was trapped, pinned, overwhelmed. Pain, white and searing, pulsed through him ¨C the burning chain, the relentless impacts ¨C threatening to drown him. Mom¡­ The thought flashed, searing through the pain, a jolt of pure, icy fear, instantly hardening into resolve. He couldn¡¯t fail. Not now.

    He roared, a primal sound muffled by the constricting chain and his mask, raw power surging from the depths of his being, and heaved. Not just pulled, heaved, with every fiber of his enhanced muscle screaming in protest. The burning chain strained, metallic links groaning under impossible pressure, then, with a high-pitched snap, shattered, showering sparks and molten fragments, the fiery weight suddenly gone, replaced by the blessed rush of air filling his lungs, the searing agony receding to a throbbing burn. He was free, and unleashed. Rage and cold, focused training surged to the forefront.

    He didn''t weave, didn''t dart ¨C he moved like a battering ram of pure, focused fury. He closed the distance on the two tech-gun wielding robbers in a heartbeat, a blur of motion too fast for them to track. Brutal, bone-jarring strikes followed, amplified by his enhanced strength. Armor buckled and shattered under his fists, bone crunched with sickening finality. They crumpled, unconscious before they even registered what had happened, their useless tech-guns clattering onto the ruined carpet. Blaze, momentarily stunned by the sudden reversal, the chain still sparking on the floor, could only stare in disbelief as Jace turned his full, focused fury upon him.

    Ignoring the lingering burn of the chain, the searing pain in his throat, Jace advanced on Blaze with silent, predatory purpose. He closed the distance in ground-eating strides, disregarding the residual heat radiating from the pyrokinetic. Blaze, recovering quickly, unleashed another fireball barrage, a desperate, uncontrolled assault. But Jace didn¡¯t evade, didn¡¯t even flinch. He powered through the inferno, raising his forearms as improvised shields, absorbing the brunt of the heat, suit smoking, skin blistering, pushing forward relentlessly, a human juggernaut of raw will and enhanced muscle. He reached Blaze, closing the final gap in a fraction of a second, a fist like a sledgehammer arcing towards the pyrokinetic¡¯s jaw. The impact was devastating. Blaze¡¯s head snapped back with brutal force, eyes rolling upwards, consciousness flickering and dying, and he crashed to the floor in a smoking heap, the fire around him sputtering and fading, finally still, knocked out cold.

    He had to get to the ground level, his mom,the hostages, he had to save them

    He dropped through a shattered section of the floor, landing silently in the lobby. His gaze swept across the vast space ¨C chaos reigned. Four hulking armored figures, tech-weapons trained on a terrified mass of employees huddled against the far wall. These weren''t just lookouts; they were enforcers, a brutal line of defense holding back any police incursion. Element of surprise, his most potent weapon, remained. He launched himself at the nearest robber, a roar building in his chest, a strength-fueled uppercut that detonated against the armored jaw. The robber, a massive figure in full plate, was lifted bodily off his feet, propelled backwards by the sheer force of the blow. He smashed through the lobby¡¯s reinforced glass doors in a shower of shattering fragments, a thunderous crash echoing as he landed heavily amidst the startled police officers and onlookers gathered outside, effectively creating his own breach point.

    Chaos erupted inside. The remaining three armored robbers whirled, tech-guns swiveling wildly, voices cracking with alarm. ¡°Major!?¡± one barked, his modulated voice strained with panic.

    The smaller figure in the center, the one radiating cold command ¨C Major ¨C gestured sharply, dismissively, a chilling lack of concern. ¡°Kill him.¡±

    Two of the armored robbers advanced, weapons immediately switching to lethal engagement. One wielding a gleaming sword in one hand and a spitting enhanced gun in the other, a brutal combination of close-quarters and ranged threat. The other advanced, wielding two short staffs, electrical nodes at their tips crackling with lethal energy. More experienced, more disciplined, undeniably more lethal than the thugs upstairs. Enhanced bullets ripped through the air, slamming into Jace, impacting his chest and abdomen. He braced, absorbing the impacts, gritting his teeth against the jolting force, his focus solely on protecting the hostages huddled behind him, minimizing any stray fire. Pain lanced through him, but he pushed it aside, adrenaline masking the sharp bite. A sword flashed, a silver arc in the dim light, slashing across his side ¨C agony exploded, a searing line of fire. Then, the electrical staffs jabbed, lightning arcing from the nodes, agonizing shocks coursing through his system, muscles spasming uncontrollably, vision swimming. He staggered back, momentarily blinded, disoriented, reeling from the combined assault. Mom¡­ Is she down here? Safe? His gaze darted frantically towards the huddled hostages, searching, his heart hammering against his ribs. Where is she?

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    The floor bucked again, a low, groaning tremor resonating through the building. Then, with a ripping sound, a massive chunk of concrete floor tore free from the structure, propelled by unseen force, hurled telekinetically towards him. No time to react, to evade. The concrete slab slammed into his ribs, a bone-crushing blow, sending him flying backwards, impacting a massive support pillar with sickening force, the air exploding from his lungs. He gasped, struggling to stand, vision blurring, pain a roaring wave threatening to overwhelm him.

    Major chuckled, stepping forward, a cold, mocking sound that cut through the din of alarms and distant sirens. ¡°Impressive strength, little Valiant. Still¡­ ultimately inadequate.¡± Jace lunged forward, fueled by raw desperation, ignoring the agony lancing through his side, but Major simply raised a short staff, the electrical nodes sparking menacingly, and jabbed it not at him, but towards the huddled hostages. A woman screamed, a high-pitched shriek of terror, then abruptly cut off, replaced by a sickening silence. One of the hostages, a woman near the front, slumped lifelessly to the floor.

    ¡°Next one dies if you even breathe wrong,¡± Major¡¯s voice, amplified by cold fury, was chillingly calm, utterly devoid of emotion.

    Rage, grief for the innocent life lost, and a cold, terrifying focus. Training. Discipline. Control. It all clicked into place, a terrifying clarity amidst the storm of panic and pain. Not reckless rage, not uncontrolled fury. Efficient. Deadly. He feigned retreat, a strategic withdrawal, leaping upwards with explosive strength, towards the ravaged upper floors, vanishing from Major¡¯s line of sight, disappearing into the shadows above. Major snickered, a sound of smug satisfaction, convinced he had broken the enhanced intruder.

    Then, Jace returned. Not from the stairs, not from the elevator shaft, but from above, an impossible descent. The reinforced ceiling above the lobby shattered inwards with a deafening roar as he crashed through, landing amidst a torrential rain of debris, plaster dust and shattered light fixtures. He landed in a combat roll, a discarded tech-gun ripped from the unconscious robber upstairs clutched tightly in his hand, still sparking with residual energy. Before Major could even react, process the impossible attack vector, Jace fired. Energy blasts ripped through the air, silent streaks of lethal power tearing into Major¡¯s exposed chest and abdomen. Armor buckled, then shattered under the concentrated fire, drawing a choked cry of pain from the telekinetic as the energy bolts tore through flesh and bone. Major staggered back, doubled over, clutching at his wounds, utter disbelief and raw pain etched on his face, surprised yet again, outmaneuvered, outgunned.

    Jace, discarding the emptied tech-gun, hurled the heavy weapon like a javelin, the improvised projectile slamming into the electrical staff wielding robber, the force of impact sending him stumbling back, staffs flying from his grip. He closed the distance to the sword-wielder in a blur of motion, snatching up one of the discarded electrical staffs as he moved, the crackling energy singing in his hand. He parried a wild, desperate sword slash with the staff, the electrical charge arcing and crackling against the blade, deflecting the deadly steel. Overwhelming the robber with brutal, focused aggression, he pressed his attack, a relentless flurry of blows, staff humming with power, disorienting and weakening the armored figure. Then, with a final, powerful sweep of the staff, he knocked the sword-wielder off balance, sending him crashing to the floor, and used the man¡¯s own armored legs to execute a brutal leg sweep on the remaining electrical staff wielding robber, sending him sprawling backwards as well.

    Major, wounded but consumed by a white-hot fury, roared, rising to his feet, telekinesis flaring to life around him. Desks, chairs, overturned equipment, chunks of debris ¨C everything not nailed down in the ruined lobby ripped free from the floor and walls, swirling around him like a vortex, a chaotic, telekinetic tornado aimed directly at the huddled, terrified hostages.

    No time for finesse. No room for strategy. Only instinct remained. Jace moved, putting himself directly between Major and the hostages. And then, with a roar that ripped from his throat, fueled by adrenaline, fear, and a primal protectiveness, he clapped his hands together with earth-shattering force, channeling every ounce of his enhanced strength into a single, desperate act. The resulting sonic boom ripped through the lobby, a shockwave of pure force tearing through the air. The telekinetic projectiles faltered mid-flight, buffeted by the invisible force, their trajectories wavering, then reversed, slamming back towards their originator, a hail of debris impacting Major with brutal force. Glass shattered in every window and display case in the lobby, the concussive shockwave rippling outwards, buffeting Jace, momentarily deafening and disorienting him, but he held his ground, protecting those behind him.

    He moved in on Major, finding the telekinetic collapsed amidst the wreckage of his own attack, impaled by shards of glass and debris, still struggling weakly, flickering telekinetic energy sparking around him. He reached down, grabbed Major by the neck with a viselike grip, lifting the wounded telekinetic effortlessly. As he raised Major high above his head, intending to slam him into the ruined floor and end it, a searing wave of unimaginable heat exploded outwards, engulfing him. Blaze! A colossal fireball, far larger and hotter than anything before, erupted from the downed pyrokinetic, catching Jace point-blank. His suit erupted in flames, skin seared, agony blooming anew as the force of the blast hurled him backwards, sprawling amidst the wreckage, the world blurring at the edges.

    He pushed himself up through the smoke and flames, suit smoking, skin a raw, throbbing canvas of pain. Blaze, battered and scorched but conscious, unleashed another desperate barrage of fireballs, the lobby erupting in flames. Major, coughing and bleeding but not broken, telekinetically ripped at the structural pillars of the building, groaning sounds echoing through the collapsing space. They were making a run for it, trying to bring the entire building down to cover their escape.

    No. Not while his mother, not while any of the hostages were inside.

    Ignoring the screaming agony, Jace blitzed Blaze again, raw speed and power carrying him forward. A brutal shoulder tackle, fueled by adrenaline and desperation, connected with the pyrokinetic with the force of a runaway train, sending Blaze flying unconscious across the burning lobby, crashing into a wall of flames, and finally, stilling. Turning to Major, he saw the ceiling above them beginning to buckle, groaning ominously, sections of the 37th floor collapsing inwards. Major was already scrambling for escape, scrambling towards a shattered window, stolen tech clutched in his hand, abandoning the hostages to their fate.

    Hostages first. Always. Mom first. He scanned the huddled group again, desperate, his gaze locking onto a familiar figure huddled near the back, a woman with familiar hair, familiar clothes, fear etched on her face, but alive. Mom! Relief and terror warred within him. He had to get them all out.

    He roared, a voice of command that cut through the cacophony of alarms, fire, and collapsing structure, ushering the terrified hostages towards the shattered lobby doors, towards the uncertain safety beyond, towards the waiting police barricades. Then, with a final surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, he leaped upwards, towards the ravaged upper floors, towards the Director, towards the 37th floor, every muscle screaming in protest, every nerve ending firing with pain.

    He reached the 50th floor, finding the Director, miraculously unharmed amidst the devastation, along with the two subdued robbers. He scooped up the Director, cradling her gently in one arm, the two unconscious robbers slung heavily over his shoulders. Outside, through the gaping holes in the building¡¯s facade, Pantheon groaned and shuddered, sections of the upper floors visibly collapsing, dust and debris raining down. No time for elevators, no time for stairs.

    He braced himself against the window frame, adrenaline screaming through his veins, the weight of three bodies suddenly insignificant, and jumped. Thirty-seven floors, an impossible plummet for any normal human.

    Below, police officers and the first wave of rescued hostages watched in stunned, horrified silence as Pantheon Laboratories began to crumble and die, sections collapsing like a house of cards. Then, a black streak detached itself from the collapsing tower, plummeting from an impossible height. Jace fell, a dark meteor against the smoke-filled evening sky, impacting the ground with a ground-shaking thud, the shockwave rippling outwards, but emerging from the dust cloud, impossibly, unharmed. He deposited the two unconscious robbers at the police line, then gently placed the Director onto a waiting stretcher, paramedics rushing to her side.

    His gaze scanned the rescued crowd, heart still hammering against his ribs, a desperate, frantic search. Mom¡­ Please be okay¡­ And then he saw her. His mother, wrapped in a thermal blanket, being checked over by paramedics, her face pale but her eyes wide and alive. Relief washed over him, so potent it almost buckled his knees, a wave so intense it stole his breath. The crushing weight of fear, the agonizing worry, lifted, vanishing as quickly as it had arrived, an ironic lightness considering he was still carrying the accumulated weight of the day¡¯s brutal fight, the injuries, the burns, the sheer exertion.

    Without a word, without a backward glance, he leaped again, vanishing into the smoke-filled evening shadows, disappearing back towards the Red Oven Pizzeria, the familiar escape hatch. He landed inside the deserted pizzeria, the lingering scent of stale tomato sauce suddenly a strangely comforting anchor in the chaos. And then, as the adrenaline finally, irrevocably, drained away, the dam of pain broke. His vision swam, the world tilting at a sickening angle, and the gritty pizzeria floor rushed up to meet him. Blackness claimed him, a merciful oblivion descending.

 Chapter 11

    Jace¡¯s consciousness returned in a rush, a tide of throbbing pain and disoriented awareness. He blinked, the harsh fluorescent lights of a familiar, sterile ceiling grating against his eyes. He was back in the CDE facility. Not the pizzeria. Here. He was lying on a narrow cot, the same uncomfortable slab he¡¯d occupied before, in the same stark, windowless room. Patched up. His spandex suit had been replaced with a rough, scratchy cotton uniform. He ran a tentative hand over his torso, bandages beneath the fabric, skin still burning with residual heat despite the treatment. His side throbbed, a dull, persistent ache. He was definitely feeling the aftermath of the night, the adrenaline crash a brutal descent from heroics to raw, exhausted pain.

    The air was sterile, cold, and silent save for the low hum of the facility. No comforting scent of oregano and cheap tomato sauce here. He sat up slowly, wincing, he swallowed, throat dry and raw, and waited. He knew they would come. It was just a matter of time.

    And they did. The door hissed open with quiet authority, and Zara and Kai entered. They filled the small room, their presence imposing even without their armored suits. Zara¡¯s expression was unreadable, her usual sharp intensity softened by a cool, professional detachment. Kai, as always, was an impassive wall, his gaze steady, unwavering, and devoid of any discernible emotion. They weren''t in combat gear, but there was a rigid formality to their movements, a contained readiness that spoke volumes. They were here to bring him to account.

    ¡°Dynamo,¡± Zara stated, her voice clipped and formal, using his CDE designation, not his name. It felt colder somehow. Kai remained silent, a looming shadow at her side.

    Neither offered a greeting, no preamble, just that single, charged word hanging in the sterile air. Then, Zara gestured curtly towards the door. ¡°Come with us.¡±

    The escort back to the debriefing room was silent and swift. No rough handling, no restraints, but the firm pressure of Kai¡¯s presence at his back, Zara¡¯s unwavering gaze fixed on him from the front, made escape unthinkable. The silence was heavy, oppressive, filled with unspoken accusations and the palpable weight of his disobedience. He was led through the familiar, cold corridors of the CDE facility, every step echoing the gravity of his situation. He was no longer a trainee, no longer on a path to becoming their weapon. He was¡­ something else. A problem. A breach.

    The debriefing room was stark, functional, designed for efficiency, not comfort. Metal table, two chairs already positioned, and the cold, unwavering gaze of Zara and Kai fixed upon him as he entered. He sat, unbidden, feeling the weight of their scrutiny like a physical pressure.

    Zara initiated the questioning, her voice controlled, devoid of warmth. ¡°Begin with a complete account of your actions following the unscheduled termination of your training session this evening, Dynamo.¡± It was an interrogation, not a conversation. Clinical, detached, focused solely on procedure.

    Jace recounted the events, starting with his outburst in the training room, the news headlines, the rising panic for his mother, the desperate sprint to the elevator, the confrontation with Kai, the fight with security, the escape, the journey to Pantheon, the chaos within the lab, the robbers, the hostages, the fights¡­ he laid it all out, the words tumbling out in a rush, a torrent of explanation and justification, driven by a desperate need to make them understand.

    He emphasized his fear for his mother, the overwhelming panic that had overridden his training, the instinct to protect, to rescue. ¡°Pantheon was under attack. My mom was there. I¡­ I had to go.¡± He looked at Zara, then Kai, seeking some flicker of understanding, some sign of human recognition beneath their professional facades.

    Kai remained impassive, a statue carved from granite. Zara¡¯s expression softened, almost imperceptibly, a flicker of something akin to understanding in her eyes, quickly suppressed. But her voice remained formal, detached. ¡°You disobeyed a direct order, Dynamo. You engaged CDE security personnel. You left the facility without authorization. You operated in public,  potentially compromising CDE operations and security protocols.¡± She ticked off each violation, her tone flat, factual, each point landing like a hammer blow.

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    Kai finally spoke, his voice a low, resonant baritone, devoid of emotion. ¡°Your actions were reckless, Dynamo. Uncontrolled. Insubordinate. Protocol Sierra-Nine was initiated because of your direct violation. You understand the severity of this?¡±

    ¡°But¡­ I saved people,¡± Jace protested, frustration and a desperate need to justify his actions rising in his voice. ¡°The hostages at Pantheon¡­ my mom¡­ they could have died.¡±

    Zara¡¯s gaze sharpened, a hint of steel returning to her eyes. ¡°The outcome is¡­ acceptable. Civilian casualties were minimized,  the immediate threat neutralized. However,¡± she stressed the word, her voice hardening, ¡°your methods were unacceptable, Dynamo. Completely outside protocol. Chaos. Uncontrolled variables. That is¡­ undesirable.¡±

    ¡°Undesirable?¡± Jace repeated, incredulous, a bitter laugh escaping him. ¡°People were in danger! My mother was in danger! What was I supposed to do, stand here and wait for orders while they died?¡±

    Before Zara or Kai could respond, the door to the debriefing room hissed open again. Axel stood in the doorway, his presence radiating an unexpected authority that immediately silenced the room. He glanced at Zara and Kai, his expression unreadable.

    ¡°That will be all,¡± Axel stated, his voice firm, brooking no argument. He didn¡¯t look at Jace, didn¡¯t acknowledge him directly, but the dismissal was clear. Zara and Kai exchanged a brief, questioning look, surprise flickering across Zara¡¯s face, but protocol reigned supreme. They nodded curtly and moved to exit the room, leaving Jace alone with Axel.

    Axel finally turned his gaze to Jace, his expression still unreadable, but the air of cold command had lessened, replaced by something¡­ else. Weariness? Resignation? ¡°You are dismissed, Dynamo.¡±

    Jace blinked, confusion warring with a tentative surge of relief. ¡°Dismissed? From¡­ CDE?¡±

    ¡°For now,¡± Axel clarified, his voice softening slightly, a hint of something almost¡­ human in his tone. ¡°Go home, Jace. Be with your mother.¡± He paused, a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. ¡°See to her.¡±

    Confusion warred with disbelief on Jace¡¯s face. ¡°But¡­ the debriefing¡­ the violations¡­¡±

    Axel waved a hand dismissively, cutting off his protest. ¡°Consider this¡­ a temporary leave of absence. We will¡­ re-evaluate your status at a later time.¡± His gaze hardened again, a flicker of the old steel returning. ¡°Do not¡­ complicate matters further, Dynamo. Go home.¡±

    Jace didn¡¯t need to be told twice. He rose, still stiff and sore, and walked out of the debriefing room, leaving Axel standing alone, a solitary figure amidst the sterile efficiency of CDE. He moved quickly, his mind reeling, a whirlwind of confusion and tentative hope. Dismissed? Leave of absence? After everything? It made no sense.

    Jace rose, dismissed by Axel, a confusing mix of relief and dread churning within him. He was escorted not by Zara or Kai, but by a CDE officer to the teleportation chamber, a transit hub he vaguely recalled from his induction. Inside, a technician, impersonal and focused on his console, curtly instructed him to the neon podium, the podium, now repurposed for his departure. Hesitating a moment, a silent question for vanished authorities hanging in the sterile air, Jace stepped onto the platform as ordered, the familiar hum vibrating beneath his feet, a strange finality settling in his gut. Then, the disorienting rush of teleportation, and just as abruptly, solid ground beneath his feet once more ¨C rain-slicked pavement, the soft neon glow, the sounds of his neighborhood washing over him, a wave of surreal normalcy. He was home, impossibly, inexplicably home, yet adrift, uncertain, stepping off the podium into the cool night air, the scent of ozone and sterile CDE fading, replaced by the fragile, uncertain scent of freedom.

    His apartment building was a familiar, almost alien sight after the underground facility. He unlocked his door, stepping into the dim, familiar space of his home and there she was. His mother, pacing frantically in the small living room, her face etched with worry, her movements agitated, restless energy radiating from her in waves. As soon as he stepped inside, her pacing stopped, her head snapping up, her eyes locking onto his face.

    ¡°Jace!¡± Relief flooded her features, her worry instantly melting away, replaced by a rush of emotion. She surged forward, engulfing him in a fierce, desperate hug, clinging to him tightly, burying her face against his shoulder.

    ¡°Mom,¡± he murmured, relief washing over him in a warm wave, hugging her back just as fiercely, holding her close, the familiar scent of her comforting him more than he could articulate. She was safe. She was here.

    Then, the hug broke, and she stepped back, her expression shifting, relief fading, replaced by a complex mixture of emotions ¨C anger, hurt, and a deep, simmering sadness. Tears welled in her eyes, and her voice trembled as she finally spoke, the words laced with a heartbreaking mix of anger and pain.

    ¡°Why¡­ why are you lying to me, Jace?¡±

    He blinked, confusion clouding his relief. ¡°Lying? Mom, what¡­ what do you mean?¡±

    Her voice cracked, tears finally spilling down her cheeks, her gaze searching his face, accusing, knowing. ¡°Don¡¯t you think¡­ don¡¯t you think wearing a black spandex suit and a ridiculous mask would be enough to stop me from recognizing my own son?¡±

    Jace froze, his blood running cold, his mind blanking, all coherent thought dissolving into stunned, utter silence. He stared at his mother, her tear-streaked face, her knowing, heartbroken eyes, and for the first time in weeks, in months, maybe ever, he was completely, utterly¡­ stumped.

    The silence stretched, thick and heavy with unspoken truths, with years of carefully constructed lies and suddenly, devastatingly, shattered illusions. And in that silence, in the raw, unfiltered emotion in his mother¡¯s gaze, Jace knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that everything had just irrevocably changed.

 Chapter 12

    Jace swallowed hard, his throat tight, his mind scrambling for words that wouldn¡¯t come. His mother¡¯s eyes¡ªsharp, wet with unshed tears¡ªheld him in place, demanding an answer, demanding the truth he had buried beneath months of secrecy. ¡°Mom, I¡­ I didn¡¯t want you to worry,¡± he said, but even as the words left his mouth, he knew how weak they sounded. Her expression twisted, disbelief and hurt warring across her face.

    ¡°Worry?¡± she repeated, her voice rising. ¡°Jace, I thought you were just exhausted from overworking yourself, that you were pushing too hard, but this¡ª¡± she gestured at him, at the faint bruises still visible, at the weight of something unspoken between them¡ª¡°this is so much worse. You¡¯ve been out there fighting, getting hurt, nearly dying, and you didn¡¯t want me to worry?¡± She took a shaky breath, her hands trembling at her sides ¡°Do you have any idea how it felt watching you at Pantheon? Not as some stranger in a mask, but as my son? And you just¡­ you didn¡¯t trust me enough to tell me?¡± The weight of her words crushed him more than any fight ever had.

    Jace took a deep breath, steadying himself. ¡°Mom, I know you¡¯re worried. I know seeing me like this¡ªhurt, fighting, putting myself in danger¡ªit¡¯s not what you ever wanted for me.¡± He met her eyes, his voice steady but pleading. ¡°But I can¡¯t just ignore what I¡¯ve been given. I have these powers for a reason. I was given them to do good, to help people the way no one else can.¡±

    He exhaled, shaking his head. ¡°I know it¡¯s not easy to accept. But if I have the ability to stop someone from getting hurt¡ªto protect people, to protect you¡ªthen how could I live with myself if I didn¡¯t? This isn¡¯t about wanting to fight or take risks. It¡¯s about doing what¡¯s right, because I can.¡±

    Then, he stepped closer, his voice pleading but increasing with intensity; ¡°This scar¡­ yes, it looks bad, I know. But¡­ I don¡¯t feel the pain like you think I should. The CDE¡­ they helped, patched me up, but¡­ it¡¯s different for me now. I¡¯m stronger, faster¡­ I can protect people. I had to protect you, Mom, at Pantheon. When I saw the news¡­ I couldn¡¯t just stay here.¡±

    "You think this doesn¡¯t hurt?" she snapped, her voice shaking. "Jace, I am your mother. You cannot deceive me. His mother let out a sharp, bitter laugh, pacing the room like she was trying to hold herself together. " And when exactly were you planning to tell me, Jace? After you got yourself killed? After I got another call telling me my family was gone?"

    Jace flinched. She never talked about Dad like this¡ªnot with that edge in her voice, like she was barely holding back a scream.

    "I¡¯m not going to die," he said, trying to steady his voice.

    "You don¡¯t know that!" she exploded, turning to face him. "Just because you think you¡¯re invincible doesn¡¯t mean you are! You run around in spandex, throwing yourself into danger like you have a death wish! Do you have any idea what it was like for me tonight? Watching the building you were in burn to the ground? Watching that masked figure¡ªmy son¡ªjump off a skyscraper like it was nothing?"

    Jace opened his mouth, but she wasn¡¯t done.

    "You are selfish, Jace. Do you know that? Selfish." Her voice cracked. "I am just getting over losing your father. Just starting to breathe again. And now, now, you¡ª" She exhaled sharply, pressing a hand to her forehead. "I can¡¯t do this. I cannot go through this again."

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    Jace felt something in his chest tighten, something worse than any punch, any bullet, any blast of fire he¡¯d taken. Because she wasn¡¯t just mad. She was scared.

    "I¡¯m trying to protect people," he said, voice softer now.

    "And what about me?" she whispered. "Who¡¯s protecting me, Jace?"

    Silence. Jace had no answer. Because deep down, he knew she was right.

    His mother turned away, rubbing at her eyes. "Go to bed," she muttered. "I can¡¯t talk about this anymore."

    Jace nodded, swallowing the lump in his throat, and headed for his room.

    For the first time since he got his powers, his body didn''t feel heavy. his heart did.

    Jace reached the bottom of the stairs, his hand gripping the railing, but he didn¡¯t move. His mother stood with her back to him, one hand pressed to her temple, the other wrapped around herself like she was trying to hold everything in. The sight made his stomach twist, but he couldn¡¯t leave it like this.

    He took a breath, turned slightly, and looked over his shoulder. His voice was quiet, but firm.

    "I''m sorry, Mom. I really am. But I have this incredible ability, and I can¡¯t just ignore it. People out there need help, and if I can do something¡ªif I can save even one life¡ªI have to. I will. No matter how you feel about it."

    His mother tensed. He saw her shoulders rise, like she wanted to argue, to scream, to tell him he was making the biggest mistake of his life. But she didn¡¯t turn around.

    Jace swallowed, his throat tight. "I know you¡¯re scared. I know you just want to protect me. But I can¡¯t live my life in fear of what might happen. I won¡¯t."

    Silence.

    For a second, he thought she might respond. That she might give him something¡ªanger, disappointment, anything. But she didn¡¯t move, and the quiet stretched between them like a canyon.

    Jace exhaled, gripping the railing a little tighter. Then, without another word, he turned and headed upstairs, each step feeling heavier than the last.

    <hr>

    TWO WEEKS LATER: IN THE CDE

    The CDE facility hummed with its usual efficiency¡ªagents moving with purpose, data streams flickering across holographic displays, the low murmur of voices discussing ongoing operations. But beneath the surface, tension simmered.

    Axel Reed stood in the facility¡¯s dimly lit training bay, wrapping his hands with slow, methodical precision. The air smelled of sweat and metal, a familiar scent that grounded him. Across from him, a combat drone reassembled itself, its sleek black plating clicking into place after their last sparring session.

    His mind wasn¡¯t on the fight.

    The higher-ups had been silent for too long. That silence meant something was coming.

    As if on cue, the steady rhythm of footsteps echoed through the bay¡ªthree of them, crisp and deliberate. Axel didn¡¯t need to turn around to know they weren¡¯t just any operatives. He could feel it in the way the air shifted, in the way conversations in the hallway outside seemed to hush as they approached.

    But it was the presence of the man in the center that confirmed it. His posture, his pace, the unshakable weight of command in his very existence.

    Axel finished wrapping his hands, flexing his fingers as he finally glanced over his shoulder.

    Three men stood at the entrance. The two on either side wore standard CDE black¡ªefficient, lethal. The man between them, though¡­ he was something else, The man in the center exuded authority, but there was something colder beneath it¡ªsomething dangerous. His face was sharp, angular, with a presence that made the room feel smaller just by standing in it. A single, piercing eye locked onto Axel, unreadable yet unwavering. The other was gone, replaced by an old, deep scar running from his brow to his cheekbone, a wound that hadn¡¯t been hidden by any synthetic replacement. Either he didn¡¯t care to fix it, or he wanted people to see it.

    More unsettling was his right hand¡ªcompletely covered by a sleek black glove that extended past his wrist, disappearing beneath the cuff of his sleeve. The way he held it, perfectly still at his side, made it seem almost unnatural.

    This wasn¡¯t just another bureaucrat hiding behind a title. No, this man had seen war. Had survived it. And had no patience for those who disappointed him.

    Axel exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as he finally turned to face them.

    "So," he said, voice steady. "You finally decided to stop watching and start talking."

    The man took a step forward, measured, deliberate. His remaining eye held no warmth, only the weight of a man who had delivered judgment before¡ªand would do so again without hesitation.

    "Director Reed," he said, his voice smooth but carrying a quiet, lethal certainty. "It¡¯s time we had a conversation."

    Axel glanced at the still-reassembling drone, then back at them. He sighed, shaking his head.

    "Yeah," he muttered. "Figured as much."

    Without another word, he unwrapped his hands, tossing the wraps aside. Whatever was coming, he was ready.

 Chapter 13

    Chapter 13

    ***Carter residence**

    A week had passed since the fight with his mom, and in that time, the house had turned into something that barely felt like home.

    They spoke, but only in the way two strangers sharing a space would¡ªbrief, necessary exchanges with no depth. Every morning, she left food for him before heading to work, a quiet offering of care that neither of them spoke about. Every night, he came home to find food set for him, most of the time he''d find it cold, untouched by anything but time and silence.

    In between, Jace buried himself in routine;

    School. Patrolling. Fighting crime.

    His body moved on autopilot¡ªclasses, dodging Leo¡¯s questions, sneaking out after dark. The streets were still dangerous, and he couldn''t turn his back on them. Without his spandex suit, he was back to using his hoodie, which felt¡­ wrong. He never thought he¡¯d miss that tight, black second skin, but it had become part of him, part of the identity he was still figuring out.

    Leo had noticed the shift.

    "Man, you¡¯ve been dodgy lately," Leo muttered one afternoon as they walked home.

    Jace kept his hands in his pockets, eyes on the sidewalk. "Dodgy how?"

    "You know how." Leo shot him a look. "You disappear right after school, barely answer texts, and when you do talk, you sound like you''re a million miles away."

    Jace exhaled, shaking his head. "I¡¯ve just been busy."

    Leo narrowed his eyes but didn¡¯t push. He knew Jace well enough by now to recognize when a wall wasn¡¯t coming down.

    At least Tank wasn¡¯t an issue anymore. After getting embarrassed and beaten down weeks ago¡ªlong before the Pantheon attack¡ªhe had slunk into the background, his presence at school almost nonexistent. Jace barely even thought about him anymore.

    What did bother him, though, was the silence from the CDE.

    Despite his nightly patrols, despite the fights he had broken up, the muggers he had stopped, the criminals he had left tied up for the cops¡ªhe hadn¡¯t heard anything from them. No messages. No warnings. No orders.

    It was like they were ignoring him.

    And somehow, that was more unsettling than anything.

    ----Nine Days After the Argument with his mom ---

    Jace came home late. Again.

    He locked the door behind him and trudged into the kitchen, his hoodie still damp from the drizzle outside. As expected, a plate of food sat on the counter, covered with foil, untouched by anything but time.

    Sitting down, he peeled the foil back and started eating. The food was cold, but he didn¡¯t mind.

    Then, footsteps.

    Soft, hesitant, coming down the stairs.

    He paused, looking up just as his mother stepped into view. Her face was pale, eyes glassy with unshed tears, and when she opened her mouth, her voice was already breaking.

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    "How long are we going to keep this up, Jace?"

    Jace froze. His fork clattered against the plate. His chest tightened, something inside him unraveling too fast to stop.

    His mother swallowed hard, her breath shaky. "I can''t do this anymore... this silence... this distance." She pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking her head, tears spilling over. "I don''t want to lose you, too."

    That broke him.

    Jace stood up so fast the chair scraped against the floor. In two steps, he was in front of her, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he could without hurting her.

    She sobbed into his shoulder, gripping the back of his hoodie like she was afraid he''d disappear. "I''m sorry," she whispered. "I''m so sorry."

    Jace squeezed his eyes shut, holding back his own tears. His throat burned, his body trembled, but he just held her tighter.

    For the first time in weeks, the silence between them didn¡¯t feel like a wall. It felt like a bridge.

    And for the first time in a week, Jace felt like he could finally breathe.

    ----CDE Interrogation Room ¨C Two Weeks After the Pantheon Attack-

    The room was cold. Sterile. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones, not from temperature, but from the weight of the place itself. The walls, smooth and metallic, reflected the single overhead light in a dull, lifeless glow. No windows. No clock. Just a table, two chairs, and the unwavering silence that pressed down on Axel like a lead weight.

    He had been on the other side of this room countless times¡ªwatching, waiting, prying answers from those who thought they could defy the CDE. Never once had he imagined he¡¯d be the one sitting here, staring across the table at a man whose presence carried the kind of authority that didn¡¯t need to be explained.

    ¡°Lucian Vendrell,¡± the man said, his voice smooth and measured, deliberate in a way that made it clear every word was chosen with care. ¡°I represent the highest up. You understand what that means.¡±

    Axel held his gaze, saying nothing. He did understand.

    Lucian didn¡¯t need to lean forward to be imposing. He simply watched, as if reading every thought running through Axel¡¯s mind before he could speak them. After a pause, he laced his fingers together and spoke again.

    ¡°You were brought here to answer for your actions¡ªor rather, your inaction¡ªregarding Dynamo.¡± A flicker of amusement, or maybe disdain, crossed his face. ¡°Your ....leniency has not gone unnoticed.¡±

    Axel¡¯s jaw tightened. His voice was calm, controlled. ¡°I did what I thought was best.¡±

    Lucian exhaled through his nose, a small, almost disappointed sound. ¡°Shall we review?¡±

    The words were rhetorical. It wasn¡¯t a question. It was a statement. A conclusion already reached, a verdict already decided.

    To his left, Zara crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her stance rigid. ¡°Dynamo was never under control. He resisted orders at every turn, and instead of shutting it down, you let it happen.¡±

    Kai let out a slow breath, shaking his head. ¡°You let him walk away after multiple violations¡ªbreaking protocol in training, ignoring restrictions, reckless exposure. You made him believe there were no real consequences.¡±

    Lucian didn¡¯t interrupt, merely listening with the patience of a man who already knew every word before it was spoken. Then, with an almost casual flick of his fingers, he slid a black folder across the table.

    Axel hesitated for only a second before flipping it open.

    Surveillance reports.

    Time-stamped images of Jace across the city. Caught in the act¡ªstopping robberies, stepping into fights, leaving behind criminals battered but breathing in a hoodie and jeans costume. And beneath each image, a detailed log. Two weeks of unchecked vigilantism.

    Lucian¡¯s voice was level, unreadable. ¡°You allowed him to operate freely, outside of our jurisdiction, outside of our control. And in doing so, you forced us to adjust¡­ to compensate for your negligence.¡±

    Axel kept his expression unreadable, but his grip on the folder tightened.

    Lucian continued, his words measured. ¡°You may not realize it yet, but your failure to contain him had consequences beyond what you intended.¡± He paused just long enough to make Axel look up. ¡°At Pantheon Laboratories, for example.¡±

    Axel¡¯s fingers stilled against the paper.

    Lucian didn¡¯t elaborate. He didn¡¯t need to. The words were deliberate, left to hang in the air, unanswered.

    Was he implying what Axel thought he was?

    A beat passed.

    Lucian was watching him too closely now, searching for a reaction, for any flicker of realization.

    Axel kept his face impassive, but his mind was already turning over the details of that evening. The attack. The way it played out. The way it escalated.

    He had accepted it for what it seemed¡ªa high-stakes robbery gone wrong, a reckless power grab that Jace had interfered with. But now¡­ now the pieces weren¡¯t fitting the way they should.

    Was it really just a robbery?

    Or had Jace walked into something bigger?

    Lucian gave the faintest hint of a smile, as if he could already see the doubt creeping in. He leaned back, adjusting the sleeve of his coat, his voice smooth as ever. ¡°You are hereby relieved of your position, effective immediately, and you have been summoned by the highest up who will further give you appropriate punishment"

    Axel lifted his eyes from the folder, meeting Lucian¡¯s gaze head-on. His expression remained unreadable, but his words were measured. ¡°And what happens to Dynamo?¡±

    Lucian¡¯s smile didn¡¯t falter, but his eyes turned colder, sharpening like a blade pressed against the skin. ¡°That is no longer your concern.¡±

    He stood, straightening his coat with practiced ease.

    For a moment, Zara and Kai hesitated.

    Axel didn¡¯t miss it. That split second of doubt. They had been his people once. Fighters who stood beside him, trusted his judgment. But now, they were leaving with Lucian, their silence speaking louder than any words could.

    The door shut behind them, leaving Axel alone with the folder, the surveillance logs¡­ and a question he wasn¡¯t sure he wanted the answer to.

 Chapter 14

    Carter Residence ¨C Early Morning

    The morning sun peeked through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the cluttered battlefield that was Jace¡¯s room. Clothes¡ªboth clean and dirty¡ªwere draped over the back of his desk chair, a half-zipped duffel bag sat abandoned in the corner, and a lone sneaker lay in the middle of the floor as if dropped mid-step. His desk was a mess of notebooks, snack wrappers, and a physics textbook left open but unread.

    His mother, Evelyn Carter, stepped carefully through the controlled chaos, her gaze softening as she took in the sight of her son, sprawled across his bed, tangled in a blanket. For all his strength, for all the power he wielded, he looked young in sleep, vulnerable. Like the boy she had rocked to sleep all those years ago.

    She hesitated for a moment, then reached down, gently shaking his shoulder.

    "Jace. Wake up, honey."

    He stirred, groaning into his pillow before cracking one eye open. When he saw her, the tension he usually carried in his sleep loosened, and he mumbled, "Morning, Mom."

    She smiled. "Come on, let¡¯s get some food in you."

    Jace stretched, rubbing his eyes before sitting up. As he did, his mother pulled him into a tight hug. He returned it, burying his face in her shoulder for a second longer than necessary. No words were needed.

    They had lost too much time already.

    Carter''s Residence ¨C Kitchen

    Jace shoveled eggs into his mouth between words, animatedly recounting his battle at Pantheon Laboratories.

    "So there I was, Mom, fifty stories up, facing off against this psycho with fire powers¡ªBlaze, that was his name. Guy thought he was hot stuff¡ªliterally." Jace grinned, chewing a piece of toast. "He threw a chain of fire at me, and I had to dodge mid-air. Nearly lost my eyebrows."

    Evelyn chuckled, but her fingers tightened slightly around her coffee mug. She wanted to be strong for him, but the thought of her son fighting men like that, of nearly falling from fifty floors up, made her heart clench. Still, she let him talk. Let him live.

    "Did you win?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

    Jace smirked. "Of course. Sent him flying, but not before he set the whole damn building on fire." He leaned back, stretching. "You should¡¯ve seen the way people looked at me when I jumped 50 floors with the director of Pantheon and two criminals in my arms. It was like an action movie."

    His mother exhaled, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and worry. "Jace, I swear, you''re going to give me gray hair before my time."

    Before Jace could respond, a sudden knock at the door made both of them freeze. The lighthearted atmosphere vanished, replaced with something heavier.

    Jace stood first, setting his fork down. He didn¡¯t need to check¡ªhe already knew who it was.

    He turned to his mother, his face serious now. "It¡¯s them."

    Evelyn¡¯s breath hitched.

    Slowly, she stood, following him as he walked toward the door. Jace took a deep breath before opening it.

    Kai and Zara stood on the porch, their faces unreadable. Behind them, ten armed operatives in tactical gear waited, their expressions cold and professional.

    For a moment, Jace tensed¡ªten men? Did they think he¡¯d run? Fight? But he exhaled, steadying himself. This was expected.

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    He turned to his mother. "I have to go."

    Evelyn¡¯s lips parted, her eyes flickering between the strangers at their doorstep and her son. Fear. Hesitation. But in the end, she nodded, reaching out to squeeze his hand.

    "Be careful," she whispered.

    Jace gave her a reassuring smile. "Always."

    Then, without another word, he stepped forward, past the threshold, past the unspoken warnings in his mother¡¯s eyes, and into the hands of the CDE.

    The neon light of the operatives'' teleportation devices flickered, and in the next blink¡ª

    They were gone.

    In the CDA

    Jace materialized in a familiarly lit, industrial-style chamber, the air thick with an artificial sterility that made his skin itch. The moment his vision adjusted, someone tossed a bundle at him.

    His spandex suit.

    He caught it mid-air, lifting it with a raised brow. "So, what? I¡¯m back in training already?" he joked, shaking it out. "Not even a ¡®welcome home¡¯ or a snack first?"

    Neither Kai nor Zara answered. Their silence was... off. Different.

    Jace frowned but shrugged it off, slipping into the black suit that had come to define his other life.

    The moment the fabric settled against his skin, a whoosh cut through the air.

    Before he could react, something slammed into his throat and lifted him off his feet.

    Jace gagged, fingers clawing at the cold, metal grip wrapped around his neck. His vision sharpened as he scanned his attacker¡ª

    Lucian Vendrell !.

    Hovering feet off the ground, standing atop a sleek, black glider, his coat billowed slightly from the sheer force of his arrival. His mechanized gauntlet clamped down on Jace¡¯s throat like a vice.

    Lucian¡¯s gaze was clinical, calculating. "So this is the famous Dynamo," he mused, almost lazily. "Let¡¯s see just how powerful they claim you are."

    Then, without warning, he whipped Jace downward¡ª

    CRASH!

    Jace hit the ground hard, concrete shattering beneath him. Dust and debris rose like smoke.

    Pain flared through his back, but he barely had time to register it before his instincts screamed at him to move.

    "What the hell was that for?" Jace snapped, his body tensing while he was still on the floor

    Lucian tilted his head. "An introduction."

    Jace exhaled sharply, pushing down his irritation. He glanced at Kai and Zara, who stood unmoving at the edges of the room. They weren¡¯t interfering. They weren¡¯t surprised, they knew this was coming.

    Jace cracked his neck as he rose to his feet, rolling his shoulder where Lucian had just slammed him into the floor. The reinforced concrete beneath him was cracked, spiderweb fractures spreading out from the impact. He wiped his mouth, eyes narrowing. "Who the hell are you?"

    Lucian smirked. "Your new boss, you uncouth one."

    Jace¡¯s fists clenched. He already hated this guy.

    "Alright," Jace exhaled, shaking off the pain. His eyes locked onto Lucian, who hovered a few feet above him on his sleek black glider, the neon-blue thrusters humming faintly beneath him. His coat flared slightly from the upward draft as he looked down with an unreadable expression.

    "So this is the famous Dynamo?" Lucian smirked. "I expected more."

    Jace narrowed his eyes. He''d fought enhanced people before, but Lucian... He wasn¡¯t sure. Was this guy enhanced? Or was he just a man with advanced tech?

    Jace launched forward.

    He was fast¡ªfaster than most could track¡ªbut Lucian reacted just as swiftly, tilting his glider sideways with an effortless lean. Jace¡¯s first punch sliced through empty air. Before he could adjust, Lucian activated a small thruster boost, sending his glider into a sharp backflip over Jace¡¯s head.

    Jace barely had time to react before¡ª

    WHAM!

    Lucian''s boot struck him mid-turn, launching him backward. Jace skidded across the floor, rolling into a crouch.

    Lucian¡¯s smirk widened. "Not bad. But you¡¯ll have to do better than that."

    Jace wasn¡¯t listening. His eyes flickered to Lucian¡¯s movements. No bursts of unnatural speed. No aura of power. His attacks felt strong, sure, but... there was no telltale sign of an enhanced ability.

    He shot forward again, dodging the small concussive blasts Lucian fired from his gauntlet arm, each shot whistling past Jace¡¯s ear. Jace ducked, rolled under a hovering sidestep, and twisted behind Lucian¡¯s glider.

    Then he struck.

    Jace latched onto the glider''s wing and yanked down with full force.

    Lucian¡¯s body jolted as his glider veered sharply, spinning out of control. Jace used the momentum to swing himself onto the glider itself, gripping the center controls.

    Lucian¡¯s smirk finally faltered¡ªthe first sign of genuine surprise.

    "Get off¡ª"

    Jace didn''t let him finish. He ripped off one of the stabilizers and jammed it into the control panel. Sparks erupted.

    Lucian jumped off just in time, landing smoothly while his glider spun wildly out of control, slamming into the ground in a fiery wreck.

    Silence.

    Lucian brushed off his coat and let out a small breath before raising a hand.

    "Enough."

    Jace remained tense, breathing hard, his knuckles tight. He wasn¡¯t sure if Lucian was going to throw another punch or¡ª

    Lucian just smirked. "At least he (referring to Axel) gave you proper training, that was not... underwhelming."

    Jace exhaled, rolling his shoulders. "You could¡¯ve just asked how strong I was, instead of slamming me into the floor."

    "Where¡¯s the fun in that?" Lucian mused. Then, with a final glance at Kai and Zara, "Continue." And just like that, Lucian was gone, leaving Jace alone with his next ''fight''.

 Chapter 15

    Jace lay flat on the cold training room floor, his chest rising and falling in ragged breaths. His fingers clenched around the mask of his Spandex suit, now half-torn and damp with sweat. The metallic scent of blood mixed with the acrid tang of burnt wiring, the remnants of high-powered drones littering the ground around him¡ªbroken, shattered, torn apart

    Pain radiated from his ribs as he pressed a trembling hand against his bruised side, wincing when his fingers met torn skin. His body screamed in protest, every muscle overworked and battered from the brutal training session. But training wasn¡¯t the right word.

    They had been trying to kill him.

    Zara and Kai had never held back before, but today had been different. Their movements had been precise, their attacks lethal. And it hadn¡¯t just been them. The drones had been relentless, targeting him with enough force to make it clear¡ªthis wasn¡¯t about training. This was about survival.

    The realization settled uneasily in his gut, but before he could process it further, a shadow loomed over him.

    A single, cold eye stared down at him.

    ¡°Get up.¡±

    Jace¡¯s grip tightened around his mask as he forced himself to look up. Lucian Vendrell stood above him, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. His face, as always, was sharp and severe, but Jace¡¯s gaze was drawn to the right side of it¡ªto the scarred, sunken socket where his other eye should have been. The ruined flesh stretched jaggedly across his cheekbone, a permanent mark of whatever had happened to him.

    The sight of it made something instinctively twist in Jace¡¯s gut, but Lucian¡¯s lone, piercing eye bore into him, snapping him back to the present.

    ¡°Follow me.¡±

    Jace gritted his teeth but pushed himself up, ignoring the sharp protest of his injuries. He wouldn¡¯t give Lucian the satisfaction of seeing him struggle. Still, he felt his body sway slightly as he took his first step forward, his exhaustion catching up with him. Lucian noticed but said nothing, only leading him down the sterile halls of the CDE facility.

    The interrogation room was dimly lit, its walls bare except for a single metal table and two chairs. Lucian gestured for Jace to sit, then took the seat across from him, leaning back with calculated ease.

    Silence stretched between them, thick and suffocating. Then Lucian finally spoke.

    ¡°Let¡¯s get something straight,¡± he said, his voice sharp. ¡°If you ever go against instructions again, if you ever so much as hesitate when given an order, today¡¯s ¡®training¡¯ will feel like a warm-up.¡±

    Jace clenched his jaw, the words digging into his already raw frustration. He was still trying to catch his breath, and now he had to sit through this?

    His grip on the edge of the table tightened. ¡°My only offense is trying to help people,¡± he shot back, his voice low but firm.

    Lucian let out a short, humorless laugh. ¡°Help people?¡± He leaned forward, his lone eye locking onto Jace¡¯s with an intensity that sent a chill through him.

    ¡°Let me tell you something,¡± he said, his tone laced with cold amusement. ¡°I¡¯m not Axel. He may have tried to baby you, may have thought you were something special¡ªbut I¡¯m here to give you the truth.¡±

    Lucian¡¯s smirk faded. His voice hardened.

    ¡°You are not some precious asset. You are a tool. And once a tool starts to malfunction¡ªit gets disposed of.¡±

    Jace stiffened. The words hit harder than he expected.

    Lucian leaned back slightly, watching Jace¡¯s reaction with calculated patience before delivering the final blow.

    ¡°Like Axel.¡±

    Jace felt his stomach drop.

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    ¡°What¡ª¡± His voice faltered for a split second before he forced himself to steady it. ¡°What do you mean ¡®disposed of¡¯?¡±

    Lucian tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. ¡°That¡¯s none of your concern.¡±

    Jace¡¯s mind raced. Had they killed Axel? Locked him away? Was he even alive? The thought made his stomach churn. He had his doubts about the man, but Axel had at least tried to look out for him¡ªtried to protect him. And now, just like that, he was gone?

    He wanted answers. But Lucian wasn¡¯t going to give them.

    Instead, the man stood up, his expression settling back into one of cold disinterest. ¡°Freshen up,patch yourself up ¡± he ordered. ¡°You are going on your first mission .¡±

    Jace didn¡¯t move at first. His mind screamed at him to say something, to push back, to demand to know what happened to Axel.

    But he didn¡¯t, he couldn''t.

    Instead, he let out a slow breath and stood, his body still aching from the earlier fight. He shot Lucian a glare, but the man had already turned away, his message clear.

    This conversation was over.

    ......Few minutes later..

    Jace exhaled sharply, running a hand through his damp hair. The bruises on his body still throbbed beneath the tight fabric of his undershirt, even after the painkillers had dulled most of the sensation. These weren¡¯t the standard meds they gave him before¡ªLucian had made sure of that. Whatever was in them worked fast, forcing his body into a state of artificial recovery.

    Lucian wasn¡¯t giving him the option to rest.

    The elevator doors slid open with a mechanical hiss, revealing a dimly lit corridor lined with reinforced steel. Jace followed in silence, his boots echoing softly against the metallic floor. He had been in this facility before¡ªthis was where he had first met Axel¡ªbut he had never seen this level. He hadn''t even known the building had more floors. The deeper they went, the colder the air became, like the place itself was designed to strip away any warmth, any comfort.

    His escort stopped in front of a large doorway and pressed his palm to a scanner. A series of beeps followed before the heavy doors rumbled open, revealing a massive control room.

    The Command Centre.

    Jace¡¯s eyes flicked across the vast space¡ªwalls covered with blinking monitors, consoles lined with arrays of switches, and two enormous screens mounted at the front of the room. The entire place hummed with quiet efficiency, like the nerve center of something far bigger than he had imagined.

    Four figures stood near the main console where Lucian was

    Lucian gestured toward them as they turned to face Jace. ¡°Meet your team,¡± he said flatly. ¡°Lynx, Beta, Zeta, and Spectre.¡±

    Lynx, the apparent leader, was a tall, sharp-eyed man with an air of complete control. Beta and Zeta¡ªwho Jace assumed were twins¡ªwore nearly identical tactical suits, arms crossed in silent judgment. Spectre, the only woman in the group, stood slightly apart, her presence unreadable beneath the hood that partially obscured her face.

    Jace forced a smirk. ¡°Dynamo,¡± he introduced himself, pausing before adding, ¡°Not my first choice, but hey, branding is important, right?¡±

    Silence. No reaction.

    Jace shifted uncomfortably, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. ¡°Tough crowd.¡±

    Lucian ignored the exchange and moved toward the main console. He pressed a button, and one of the large screens flickered to life. The image that appeared made Jace¡¯s stomach twist.

    A man¡ªbloodied, bound to a chair, his face barely recognizable through the bruises¡ªsat slumped forward, his breathing ragged. Three figures stood around him, their faces obscured by shadows. The entire scene was lit by a single overhead lamp, casting harsh contrasts over the torture unfolding in real-time.

    Jace¡¯s breath hitched. His gut churned.

    ¡°Jesus Christ, man. Torture?¡±

    Lucian barely spared him a glance. ¡°Axel really did baby you,¡± he muttered, as if Jace¡¯s reaction was an inconvenience. ¡°This is how things work in the real world, so you better get used to it.¡±

    Jace clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms.

    Blaze. That was his name, the second enhanced individual he fought at pantheon laboratories, the sight of him¡ªbeaten and barely conscious¡ªwas enough to make Jace¡¯s jaw tighten. The CDE had always been ruthless, but this was something else.

    Lucian continued, unfazed. ¡°Our ''source'' got us the location of a possible hideout linked to The Maker. Infrared satellite imaging shows activity in multiple areas, but this one is the busiest.¡± He gestured toward the second screen, which displayed a grainy heatmap of a large industrial complex. ¡°We¡¯re sending you there to confirm his presence.¡±

    Beta let out a low groan. ¡°So basically, we¡¯re babysitting a rookie.¡±

    Zeta scoffed. ¡°Great.¡±

    Jace shot them a glare but kept his mouth shut. He wasn¡¯t about to give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

    Lucian ignored the complaint. ¡°The objective is simple. Go in, confirm if The Maker is present, and report back. No engagements unless absolutely necessary. Understood?¡±

    The team nodded. Jace exhaled slowly, bracing himself.

    Lynx turned to them. ¡°Gear up. We leave in five.¡±

    The locker room was silent except for the soft sounds of zippers and buckles being secured. Jace pulled on the new suit they had given him¡ªa sleeker, more reinforced version of his usual Spandex. The material stretched comfortably but had an added layer of durability. Probably designed for stealth and protection.

    He adjusted the gloves, rolling his shoulders as the painkillers dulled the last remnants of soreness.

    Lynx¡¯s voice cut through the quiet. ¡°Move out.¡±

    Jace followed as the team stepped into a garage. The air smelled of fuel and steel. A black transport van sat waiting, its doors open, the interior dark and ready.

    Jace took a breath.

    This wasn¡¯t just another training session. This was real.

 Chapter 16 - Something Darker

    The abandoned airport stretched endlessly under the moonlight, its ruined buildings casting jagged shadows. The control tower stood lifeless, its shattered windows resembling hollow eyes. Rusted airplanes lay scattered across the cracked tarmac, their skeletal remains blending with the eerie silence. Jace moved with Lynx, Spectre, Beta, and Zeta, their steps light against the dust-covered floors of the old terminal. His new Spandex suit felt stiff but lightweight, making every movement fluid and controlled. A quiet voice crackled in their earpieces¡ªLucian.

    "Lynx, you¡¯re in charge. The objective is recon. Find proof that The Maker operates here and report back. Nothing more. No heroics."

    Jace scowled. Nothing more? Beta snickered beside him. ¡°Did he just say ¡®no heroics¡¯? Damn, Dynamo, that¡¯s basically a personal attack.¡±

    Jace sighed, already feeling the incoming ridicule. ¡°I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re talking about.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, sure, buddy,¡± Zeta chimed in with a smirk. ¡°You got a whole brand now. Mr. ¡®Runs Into Fire First, Asks Questions Never.¡¯¡±

    Jace groaned. ¡°I don¡¯t always¡ª¡±

    ¡°You guys are the worst,¡± Jace muttered as they pressed forward.

    They moved past security checkpoints, broken luggage carts, and faded travel posters peeling from the walls. Beyond a shattered window, rows of vehicles sat idle in the shadows. Something felt off. Jace crouched, squinting at the lineup of trucks and vans. ¡°That¡¯s too many vehicles for a place that¡¯s supposed to be abandoned.¡±

    Lynx gave a curt nod. ¡°Beta, Zeta¡ªsee what they¡¯re carrying.¡±

    The twins exchanged a glance before slipping into the darkness, their movements silent and precise. Jace watched Spectre scanning the area with a small device, its screen pulsing with shifting heat signatures. She frowned slightly. ¡°There¡¯s movement deeper in the terminal. Not civilians.¡±

    ¡°Henchmen?¡± Jace asked, his pulse steadying.

    Spectre nodded. ¡°At least a dozen, maybe more.¡±

    Jace exhaled slowly, tension creeping into his muscles. He turned to Lynx. ¡°So what now?¡±

    ¡°We keep moving.¡±

    The team advanced through the derelict concourse, past empty kiosks and overturned chairs. The silence felt unnatural, like the entire building was holding its breath. Then Zeta¡¯s voice crackled in Jace¡¯s earpiece.

    ¡°We got a problem.¡±

    Jace, Lynx, and Spectre met them behind an overturned baggage carousel. Zeta¡¯s usual smirk was gone, replaced by something colder. ¡°We checked the trucks.¡±

    Beta crossed his arms. ¡°They¡¯re not moving cargo.¡±

    Jace frowned. ¡°Then what are they¡ª¡±

    Zeta jerked her head toward a modified garbage truck that seemed to be crushing something. The others turned just in time to see henchmen dragging bodies toward it.

    Jace¡¯s stomach dropped. His breath hitched as a limp, pale arm slipped from one of the bags. He felt something snap inside him. Before anyone could stop him, he was already moving.

    He slammed into the first henchman like a battering ram, sending the man crashing against the truck¡¯s steel plating. The second barely had time to react before Jace grabbed him by the collar and hurled him into a pile of crates. A third man drew a gun, but Jace caught his wrist, twisting it until something snapped before launching a knee into his ribs. Another came at him with a knife¡ªJace caught the blade mid-swing, yanked it from the attacker¡¯s grip, and buried his fist in the man¡¯s gut. Within seconds, the henchmen were groaning on the ground, barely conscious.

    Panting, Jace grabbed the nearest one and slammed him against the truck. His voice came out low and sharp. ¡°Where is The Maker?¡±

    The man choked on his own blood but weakly pointed toward the main hangar. That was all Jace needed.

    He stormed inside, his voice booming through the cavernous space. ¡°MAKER!¡±

    Immediately, henchmen swarmed.

    Jace tore through them with brutal efficiency, moving like a wrecking ball with purpose. His fists shattered ribs, his elbows snapped jaws, and every kick sent bodies flying. They came at him with pipes, knives, even tasers¡ªbut none of it mattered. The air filled with the sounds of breaking bones and desperate shouts. By the time the last man hit the floor, Jace had lost count. Thirty, maybe more. One of them, barely conscious, pointed toward an old elevator.

    Jace didn¡¯t hesitate.

    He punched through the floor and leapt down.

    The underground air was thick with blood and chemicals. A dim, flickering light barely illuminated the horror before him¡ªrows of cages, filled with malnourished prisoners, their eyes hollow. Others were strapped to machines, wires buried into their arms, their bodies twitching involuntarily. Jace¡¯s stomach churned. What kind of place was this?

    Then, movement.

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    Three figures emerged from the darkness, their bodies twisted and unnatural. Blades jutted from their arms, their skin marred with grotesque enhancements. Their eyes gleamed in the dim light before they lunged.

    Jace barely ducked the first swipe as a razor-sharp blade missed his throat by inches. He caught the attacker¡¯s wrist, twisting hard enough to hear bone snap, before delivering a brutal knee to the gut. The second came from behind¡ªJace spun, catching him mid-charge and slamming him into a steel beam. The third managed to grab him, lifting Jace and hurling him into a reinforced wall, leaving a dent in the metal.

    Jace gritted his teeth, pushing past the pain. He leapt forward, flipping midair to slam his boot into the enhanced¡¯s skull, dropping him instantly As the last enhanced crumpled, Jace¡¯s eyes locked onto a figure at the far end of the chamber.

    The Maker, he was running.

    Jace pivoted, then grabbed Lynx by the collar and flung him forward like a human missile.

    Lynx twisted midair, claws flashing as he reached for The Maker¡¯s back¡ª

    Then- BOOM !!!

    The Maker¡¯s body exploded.

    Lynx barely managed to activate his holographic shield before the blast sent him skidding across the floor. Debris rained down, the room shaking from the force.

    Jace shielded his eyes, coughing through the dust cloud. His pulse pounded in his ears.

    They had him, and now he was gone.

    Beta and Zeta cursed as they got up. Spectre dusted off her suit, her face unreadable.

    Jace exhaled sharply, hands trembling as he turned to the cages.

    Without a word, he sprinted forward, tearing open the doors with raw strength.

    ¡°Dynamo! We are far from mission objectives,¡± Lynx called. ¡°Don¡¯t further break rules.¡±

    Jace shot him a glare. ¡°To hell with rules.¡±

    One by one, he freed the captives, ignoring the others.

    Then¡ªsomething was wrong.

    Suddenly, his body tilted. His limbs felt heavy, his ears rang with a high-pitched frequency that grew sharper by the second. His knees buckled, vision blurring, as the world spun around him. He barely registered Lynx raising a weapon before a sharp sting hit his back. As he fell to the floor unable to move Jace locked onto spectre as she slipped something into her pocket. A detonator.

    His mind raced, but his body couldn''t react. Then Lynx pulled out his phone¡ªpresumably to make a call. The last thing he saw before darkness consumed him

    Jace woke with a sharp inhale, his muscles immediately tensing against cold, unyielding restraints. His wrists and ankles were strapped down, the firm bite of reinforced material digging into his skin. The dim, sterile light above cast harsh shadows, making the room feel eerily similar to his first day in the CDE. The walls were bare, the silence suffocating. He flexed his fingers, testing the restraints, but they held firm. His patience snapped quickly.

    "Hello?!" His voice rang out, laced with anger and frustration. "You bastards seriously tying me down now?!" His voice echoed, swallowed by the empty room.

    Minutes crawled by in agonizing silence before the heavy steel door slid open. Lucian stepped inside, his expression thunderous, a storm of barely contained rage simmering beneath his cold eyes. Without a word, he strode toward the control panel beside Jace¡¯s horizontal restraints and pressed a button. A mechanical hum filled the air as the chair-like bed Jace was strapped to slowly tilted upright, forcing him into a standing position. His feet dangled just above the ground, giving him no leverage.

    Jace barely had time to process before Lucian raised his right arm and tugged off the black glove covering his hand. The sight made Jace¡¯s breath hitch for just a second¡ªLucian¡¯s hand was not flesh and bone but a metallic construct, sleek yet menacing, with visible reinforced plating along the knuckles. It gleamed under the light, and Jace¡¯s gut twisted in instinctive unease.

    His mind snapped back into focus, anger overriding confusion. "What the hell is going on¡ª?"

    The question barely left his mouth before Lucian drove his metal fist into Jace¡¯s gut.

    Pain exploded in his stomach like a shockwave. His body jerked forward against the restraints, a strangled gasp escaping him as air was forced from his lungs. His head dropped, chin hitting his chest as he coughed violently, struggling to breathe.

    Lucian loomed over him, eyes burning with pure, unfiltered contempt. "Damn you and your repulsive kind." His voice was venomous, seething with disgust. "You enhanced freaks walk around thinking yourself powerful and mighty, using your disgusting abilities to spread disorder in an already chaotic world.

    Jace clenched his jaw, his body still reeling from the impact, but he forced himself to meet Lucian¡¯s gaze. He refused to look weak in front of this man.

    Lucian leaned in, his breath slow and deliberate. "Just because you can break natural law doesn''t mean the laws don''t apply to you. And I will make you understand that."

    With a slow, deliberate motion, he grabbed Jace¡¯s face with his metallic hand, the cold, unyielding metal pressing against his skin. Jace could feel the pressure, the sheer strength behind it, even without Lucian squeezing. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Lucian turned Jace¡¯s head toward the wall.

    A screen flickered to life.

    Jace¡¯s blood ran cold.

    Images of his mother, Leo, and his parents appeared¡ª candid shots, taken at different times of the day. His mother outside their house. Leo laughing at something on his phone. His parents leaving a grocery store. The angles were too perfect, too precise. These weren¡¯t random pictures. These were surveillance shots.

    His stomach twisted into a cold knot.

    Lucian¡¯s voice dropped to something even more chilling. "I have people on them 24/7."

    Jace¡¯s pulse pounded in his ears. He strained against the restraints, his body coiling with fury. "You son of a¡ª"

    Lucian tightened his grip on Jace¡¯s face, fingers digging in just enough to remind him of his position. His next words were delivered with quiet, razor-sharp precision. "The next time you disobey an order... you will watch as each and every one of their nails and teeth are pulled out."

    Jace¡¯s breath hitched. His entire body locked up, frozen in a mix of horror and rage.

    Lucian wasn¡¯t done. "I will learn the pain threshold of a mother and a best friend. And then, when you have nothing left, you will spend the rest of your life in solitary confinement¡ª replaying that moment over and over in your head."

    Jace''s face twisted with unfiltered fury, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. His fists clenched as much as the restraints allowed, his nails digging into his palms. He didn¡¯t care about himself¡ªbut his mother? Leo? Lucian was threatening the people he loved. His heart pounded like a war drum, a fire roaring in his chest, consuming his fear and leaving only the sharp edges of rage.

    Lucian saw it. And smiled.

    Then, without warning, he slammed another punch into Jace¡¯s gut.

    Jace choked on his own breath, a guttural sound escaping him as fresh pain tore through his core. His body convulsed, his head hanging forward as he struggled against the nausea creeping up his throat.

    Lucian spat on him. The warm, disgusting sensation landed on his cheek, sliding down his skin.

    Then, just like that, he turned on his heel and walked toward the exit.

    The door hissed open, and Lucian paused in the doorway. He glanced over his shoulder, his tone completely void of emotion. "Remember this feeling, Dynamo."

    The door shut with a cold, final click, plunging Jace into silence.

    His breathing was erratic, his body trembling¡ªnot just from the pain, but from the sheer fury boiling beneath his skin. His mind raced, cycling between the image of his mother and Leo on that screen and Lucian¡¯s threats.

    For the first time in a long while, he felt something deeper than anger.

    Something darker. Jace gritted his teeth, his jaw so tight it ached.

 Chapter 17: Powerless

    The silence after Lucian left was a physical weight, pressing down on Jace. But beneath it, a tremor started, a low hum of pure, unadulterated rage. His breath hitched and stuttered, each inhale a ragged gasp against the burning knot in his chest. His mother. Leo. The images on the screen flashed behind his eyelids, stark and horrifyingly real. Lucian''s cold, precise threat echoed in his ears, a venomous whisper that ignited a firestorm in Jace''s gut.

    He curled his fingers, slowly, methodically, testing the limits of movement. His entire body was sore¡ªhis ribs throbbed from Lucian¡¯s brutal punches, his limbs felt like they had been wrung dry, but none of it mattered. The only thing that did was getting up.

    A deep breath.

    Jace yanked his right arm forward. The restraint didn¡¯t budge. His muscles burned, still weak from the hours of captivity. He gritted his teeth, pushing through the pain. Again. Harder this time. The metal groaned, the sound barely audible over his heavy breathing.

    Again! With a sharp crack, the restraint snapped free. His arm dropped limply to his side, but he didn¡¯t waste time savoring the victory. He reached for his left wrist, fingers fumbling against the reinforced strap. His grip was weak, but he pressed on, pulling, twisting, forcing the lock loose.

    His legs were next. His body screamed in protest as he wrenched himself free, but he shoved the pain aside. Every second wasted was a second Lucian still controlled him. That thought alone was enough to push him forward.

    He swung his legs off the metal slab, his bare feet hitting the cold floor. He staggered but caught himself, using the wall for balance. His breathing was uneven, his head pounding, but the fire inside him burned brighter than the pain. His gaze locked onto the steel door across the room.

    He reeled his fist back. One hit. That¡¯s all it would take.

    But before he could strike...The ringing returned.

    Jace¡¯s world shattered. A piercing, unnatural frequency tore through his skull, splitting his thoughts apart like jagged glass. His muscles locked up instantly, his veins turning to ice as an unbearable weight pressed against every nerve in his body. His vision swam, his balance faltering.

    No, no, not again.

    He gasped, his throat closing up, his chest tightening as though invisible chains were wrapping around him. He stumbled, his legs giving out beneath him. His body crumpled to the floor, limp and useless, his fingers twitching weakly against the concrete. His mind screamed at his muscles to move, to fight, but nothing responded.

    His breath came in short, panicked bursts. The cold seeped into his skin, his cheek pressed against the freezing floor. The fire that had been roaring inside him just moments ago was gone¡ªsnuffed out in an instant, leaving nothing but crushing silence.

    How long had it been? Minutes? Hours? Jace didn¡¯t know. All he knew was that he was trapped, not by walls, not by restraints, but by his own body.

    A shuddering breath escaped him, uneven and shaky. His vision blurred¡ªnot from exhaustion, not from pain, but from something else entirely. His throat burned, his chest tightening with something unfamiliar. His breath hitched. His eyes stung.

    Tears? No! His jaw clenched so hard it ached, his hands trembling against the ground. He couldn¡¯t cry. He wouldn¡¯t.

    But it was there, choking him, clawing at the edges of his control. The frustration, the helplessness, the gut-wrenching realization that no matter how much he fought, Lucian could do this to him whenever he wanted. He could snap his fingers, press a button, and Jace would be nothing more than a broken marionette on the floor.

    And the worst part? Lucian knew it!

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    Lucian¡¯s Office

    The room was dimly lit, the cold glow of monitors casting eerie reflections across the polished desk. Lucian stood with his back to the room, arms crossed behind him as he watched the live feed of Jace, still motionless on the floor. The sight was¡­ satisfying.

    Behind him, a technician shifted uneasily. ¡°Sir, the implant wasn¡¯t designed for long-term use. Prolonged exposure to the frequency could cause nerve deterioration. If we keep pushing it, it could kill him. Lucian barely spared the man a glance. ¡°I don¡¯t care.¡±

    The words were final. Dismissive. He turned his attention back to the screen, watching as Jace¡¯s fingers twitched slightly¡ªhis only sign of life. ¡°Keep the frequency running for another hour. Then bring him back.¡±

    The technician hesitated but nodded, pressing a button on the control panel. The sharp ringing continued.

    Lucian smiled.

    /////Hours Later///

    The sound of the steel door sliding open barely registered in Jace¡¯s haze of exhaustion. He was still on the floor, his body drenched in sweat, his limbs stiff and aching from hours of paralysis. His breathing was shallow, his mind sluggish, but he forced himself to open his eyes.

    Lucian stepped inside, his boots clicking against the floor as he approached. He crouched down to Jace¡¯s level, studying him with mild amusement. ¡°Disappointing,¡± he mused, shaking his head. ¡°I thought you¡¯d put up more of a fight.¡±

    Jace¡¯s fingers curled weakly into fists, but his body refused to obey anything beyond that.

    Lucian leaned in, his voice low and mocking. ¡°Do you know what you¡¯ve done, Dynamo? You cost us our only lead on The Maker. Now, thanks to your little stunt, he knows we¡¯re closing in. He¡¯ll be harder to track, harder to catch.¡± He let the words settle, then added, ¡°And those people you oh-so-heroically detached from the machines? They could¡¯ve been valuable sources of information. But now?¡± He tsked. ¡°They¡¯re useless.¡±

    Jace forced a glare, his breaths slow and labored.

    Lucian¡¯s smirk widened. ¡°And this?¡± He tapped two fingers against Jace¡¯s temple, triggering a fresh wave of dizziness. ¡°This little episode you¡¯ve been having? That¡¯s an implant in your spine disrupting your nervous system. Installed during your early physiological tests.¡±

    Jace¡¯s mind reeled. ¡°...What?¡± His voice came out hoarse, barely above a whisper.

    Lucian chuckled, standing to his full height. ¡°Did you really think all those tests were harmless?¡± He shook his head. ¡°You were injected with it when you first joined. You probably don¡¯t even remember.¡±

    A flicker of memory surfaced¡ªcold metal against his back, a slight pinch of pain, a lab worker murmuring something about a blood draw.

    He had been played. From the very beginning.

    His body shook¡ªnot from the implant, not from exhaustion, but from sheer, unbridled fury. He dug his fingers into the floor, willing himself to move, to stand, to do something.

    He pushed. His arms trembled, his muscles locking up, but he pushed.

    Lucian watched in amusement as Jace struggled to rise. He made it barely an inch before his strength gave out, his body collapsing once more. Lucian chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Pathetic.¡±

    Jace gritted his teeth, hating the way his vision blurred again, the way his chest tightened with something dangerously close to despair.

    Lucian crouched down, gripping Jace¡¯s chin and forcing him to meet his gaze. ¡°You¡¯re free to go,¡± he said smoothly, ¡°but you¡¯d better be ready when I call for you.¡± His grip tightened. ¡°Because now that you¡¯ve screwed this up? You have so much more work to do.¡±

    He let go, standing up and turning toward the door. Jace lay there, his fists clenched, his breath slow and ragged. He had never hated anyone more.

    Jace barely made it to the teleportation chamber, his body sluggish and weak from hours of paralysis. Every step sent fresh pain through his nerves, but he forced himself forward. The cold metal floor steadied beneath him as a technician wordlessly input his destination. A pulse of energy surged through him¡ªan instant of weightlessness¡ªthen he was home.

    Silence.

    The house felt empty in a way it never had before. The familiar walls, the framed pictures¡ªunchanged, yet distant, like remnants of a life that no longer belonged to him. His vision blurred as exhaustion crashed over him. He took a single step before his legs gave out.

    Jace collapsed, knees hitting the floor with a dull thud. His breath hitched as he curled in on himself, arms wrapping around his legs, pulling them tight to his chest. His body trembled¡ªwhether from pain, exhaustion, or the storm raging inside him, he didn¡¯t know.

    Then, the first sob tore from his throat, raw and broken.

    It started slow¡ªsharp inhales, shaky exhales¡ªbut quickly spiraled. His shoulders shook violently as he buried his face in his arms, tears spilling freely. He had fought so hard to hold it in, to keep himself together, but now¡ªaway from Lucian, away from the suffocating weight of the CDE¡ªhe couldn¡¯t fight it anymore.

    His hunger for heroism had led him here, into something far darker than he ever imagined.

    He had wanted to help people, to matter in a greater way. But all he had done was make things worse. His mother was in danger. Leo was in danger. He thought he had the power to protect them, but it wasn¡¯t enough. Lucian had proven that in the cruelest way possible.

    No matter how hard he fought, he was still just a tool in their hands, a pawn they could control.

    And for the first time, Jace truly felt powerless.

 Chapter 18: Hollow

    The hot water ran down Jace¡¯s back, scalding against his skin, but he barely felt it. He stood motionless under the spray, hands braced against the tiled wall, head hanging low. The mirror across from him was fogged, but he could still make out his reflection¡ªa ghost of himself. His knuckles were bruised, his ribs ached with every breath, and the faintest traces of dried blood clung to his temple. He looked like hell. But what disturbed him most wasn¡¯t the injuries.

    It was his own eyes, there was nothing in them. No fire. No anger. No frustration. Just a hollow stare.

    Jace had always thought of himself as strong¡ªnot just physically, but mentally. No matter how hard things got, he could push through. But last night shattered that belief. Lucian had stripped him down to nothing, twisted his strength into shackles, and showed him just how powerless he really was.

    His fists clenched against the wall, nails pressing into his palms. The thought of crying crossed his mind, the sting building behind his eyes, but he refused. He forced himself to straighten, inhaling deeply as if that could steady the tremor in his chest.

    Not now. Not here.

    Instead, he turned off the shower, grabbed a towel, and stepped out.

    By the time he emerged from his room, Jace had forced his usual smirk back onto his face. His mother was in the kitchen, her back to him as she made coffee. He walked up behind her, plastering on his best casual tone.

    "Morning, Mom," he said, opening the fridge.

    She turned, surprised. "Oh! You¡¯re up early." Her gaze flickered over him, concern creeping in despite his attempt at normalcy. "You okay, sweetheart?"

    Jace flashed a lopsided grin. "What, do I not look okay?"

    Her brow furrowed, but before she could press further, he grabbed an apple and dramatically took a bite. "I¡¯m great. Super great. You know me¡ªunstoppable."

    His mother didn¡¯t look convinced, but after a long pause, she sighed. "Alright. Just¡­ take care of yourself, okay?"

    "Always," he said, forcing his voice to stay light. He leaned over, kissed her cheek, and grabbed his backpack. "See you later and good luck with pantheon laboratories today""

    She smiled softly. " Thanks baby "

    As Jace stepped outside, the smile vanished.

    Instead of leaping of rooftops and terrains like he usually would, Jace walked to the bus stop.

    The ride was quiet. The city passed by in a blur, but he barely noticed. The excitement he once felt about his abilities, about being something greater, was gone. The weight of it all¡ªthe lies, the pain, the constant fear¡ªpressed down on him.

    When he got to school, the day passed in a haze.

    He moved through the halls like a shadow, barely acknowledging anyone. Teachers called on him, and he gave automatic answers. Friends waved, and he forced a quick nod in return. It was like he wasn¡¯t even there.

    Leo noticed.

    At lunch, he sat across from Jace, watching him carefully. "Alright, dude, what¡¯s up?"

    Jace blinked. "What?"

    "You¡¯re acting weird."

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    Jace scoffed, leaning back. "Weirder than usual?"

    Leo didn¡¯t laugh. "You¡¯re quiet. You¡¯re never quiet."

    Jace shrugged, picking at his food. "Guess I¡¯m just tired."

    Leo narrowed his eyes but didn¡¯t push. Instead, he grinned and elbowed Jace¡¯s side. "You need to loosen up, man. Maybe I should set you up on a date. What about¡ª"

    "Not interested," Jace cut in.

    Leo groaned dramatically. "Oh my god, who are you and what have you done with my best friend?"

    Jace gave a weak chuckle. It was enough to satisfy Leo¡ªat least for now.

    ---

    After school, Jace and Leo walked together, but when they reached their usual parting point, Jace kept going toward the bus stop.

    Leo frowned. "Wait. You¡¯re taking the bus?"

    Jace nodded.

    Leo squinted at him. "You hate the bus."

    "Just felt like switching it up."

    Leo stared for a moment but let it go.

    Then, footsteps.

    Jace had sensed them earlier but hadn¡¯t cared. Now, as five figures closed in around them, he exhaled slowly.

    At the front of the group was Tank. Once a schoolyard bully, Tank had taken a downward spiral ever since Jace embarrassed him in front of half the school. Drinking, fights, and rumors of gang activity had followed, and now, those rumors seemed true.

    Tank sneered, eyes bloodshot. "Look who it is," he slurred. "The big hero."

    Jace didn¡¯t react.

    Tank stepped closer, alcohol thick on his breath. "I should break your damn legs for what you did to me."

    Jace exhaled, barely sparing him a glance. "Leo. Run."

    Leo tensed. "What?"

    "Go home."

    Before Leo could react, the gang rushed Jace.

    Jace remained limp on the ground, barely aware of the gang¡¯s taunts as they rained blows down on him. Metal bats cracked against his ribs, heavy boots slammed into his sides, but he barely felt it. His body had taken worse. His mind was elsewhere¡ªnumb, detached.

    One of the gang members pulled out a gauntlet¡ªa crude but dangerous piece of enhanced tech. Blue energy flickered at his knuckles as he raised it for a punch¡ª

    A loud clang !

    The loud clang rang through the alley as it bounced off the thug¡¯s skull. The gang member staggered, clutching his head in shock. Everyone turned toward the source of the attack.

    Leo stood at the alley entrance, breathing hard, in his hands a cover of a trash can .

    "Get away from him," he said.

    For the first time since the attack started, Jace¡¯s head lifted. His eyes found Leo, standing there, fearless, shaking slightly but unwavering.

    Something inside Jace cracked.

    The numbness, the detachment¡ªit all shattered in an instant. A new sensation flooded his chest, a mix of guilt, anger, and something more powerful than either. Leo had come back for him. Leo, the guy who had no powers, no combat training, nothing¡ªbut still stood his ground against five thugs.

    And they turned on him.

    Two of them rushed Leo. He barely had time to lift the trash can lid as a shield before a bat slammed into it, sending him stumbling. Another grabbed him by the shirt, yanking him forward, fist raised¡ª

    Jace moved.

    Tank stood beside him¡ªtoo close. Before the drunk could react, Jace twisted and drove his fist into Tank¡¯s gut.

    Tank let out a choking gasp, his body folding over Jace¡¯s knuckles. The bat he had been holding slipped from his grip, clattering to the ground. Jace caught it.

    Jace didn¡¯t hesitate. He stepped forward, sweeping the bat low, knocking one attacker¡¯s legs out from under him. The guy hit the ground hard, groaning but still conscious.

    . Jace darted in, using the bat¡¯s handle to push the guy off balance before hooking his foot behind his knee, sending him stumbling to the ground.

    The third attacker hesitated. He looked between Jace and Leo, clearly weighing his options.

    Jace took a step forward. ¡°Just stay down.¡±

    The guy hesitated for another half-second before making the smart decision and running away.

    Jace exhaled.

    Then a sharp hum filled the air.

    He turned just in time to see the last thug¡ªthe one Leo had hit¡ªscrambling for the enhanced gauntlet on the ground. The tech flickered to life, energy humming in the palm.

    Jace moved on instinct, stepping in front of Leo.

    The gang member fired.

    The energy blast struck Jace square in the chest.

    He barely shifted.

    The gang member¡¯s smug expression faltered into pure confusion.

    Jace let out a slow breath

    Silence filled the alley.

    Jace ripped the trash can lid from Leo¡¯s hand and flung it. It slammed into the guy¡¯s head, knocking him out cold.

    As the rest of the gang groaned, Jace crouched down and grabbed the fallen enhanced gauntlet, stuffing it into his backpack before standing up.

    ¡°Let¡¯s go,¡± he muttered to Leo, his voice quiet but firm. Leo nodded, still processing everything as they walked out of the alley together.

    Leo was still staring., confused about everything that just happened. Jace who seemed like he needed help, knocked out all the gang members without breaking a sweat like some special agent.

    Jace exhaled. Then, before Leo could react, he grabbed him and leaped onto the nearest rooftop.

    Leo let out a strangled yell, clutching onto Jace as they landed. "WHAT THE HELL¡ª"

    Jace set him down, looking him in the eye.

 Chapter 19: Sabotage

    Jace sat back on the couch, exhaling as he ran a hand through his hair. "And... that''s the whole story," he said, signaling the end of his explanation. He had left out the worst parts¡ªthe torture, the implant, the fact that Leo¡¯s entire family was under surveillance¡ªbut he had told Leo everything else. His powers, the CDE, the missions, the lies.

    Leo sat across from him, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. He looked like someone who had just been hit by a truck made of pure adrenaline. "Dude," he finally breathed out, shaking his head. "This is insane. You¡¯re out here fighting terrorists, pulling buses, and going on spy missions ?

    "I wouldn''t exactly call it spy missions " Jace replied

    Leo ignored him. "And you just¡ªwhat? Go to school like nothing happened?" He leaned forward. "Wait, how strong are you? Can you fly? Can you shoot lasers? Are you, like, bulletproof or something?"

    Jace chuckled, relieved by how well Leo was taking it. "No flying, no lasers, and yes I think I''m more than bulletproof "

    Leo nodded, still dazed. His mind was clearly racing, but Jace had one question that had been stuck in his head since the fight. "Leo... why did you come back?"

    Leo blinked. "What do you mean?"

    Jace sat up, looking his best friend in the eyes. "Back in the alley. I told you to run, but you came back for me. Why?"

    Leo hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck. For the first time since Jace had revealed his powers, he looked genuinely unsure of what to say. Then, he let out a small laugh. "You really don¡¯t get it, do you?"

    Jace frowned. "Get what?"

    Leo leaned forward. "That day, when Tank humiliated me in front of the whole class, I thought... that was it. I thought that was just how life was gonna be¡ªme getting pushed around, being too scared to do anything about it." He shook his head. "But then you stood up for me. You didn¡¯t have to. You could¡¯ve just watched like everyone else. But you stepped in, no powers, no tricks¡ªjust you."

    Jace swallowed hard, unsure of what to say.

    Leo continued. "That moment changed something for me. It made me realize I didn¡¯t have to be afraid. That I could fight back. That someone would fight for me." His voice softened. "That¡¯s why I came back, man. Because when I saw you in trouble, running away wasn¡¯t even an option in my head at all."

    Jace felt something shift inside him. A warmth, a spark, something deep in his chest that made him sit up a little straighter. This ! This was why he wanted to be a hero. Not because of the CDE, not because of orders or missions but because of people like Leo. Because standing up for the little guy mattered. Because changing one life was just as important as saving the whole world.

    The CDE had tried to shape him, control him, break him but they weren¡¯t the reason he fought. They weren¡¯t his purpose. They weren¡¯t his future. He wasn¡¯t theirs to use, and no matter what they did, no matter how hard they tried to chain him down, they would never take this from him.

    Jace pulled Leo into a tight hug, catching his best friend completely off guard. Leo stiffened, still dazed from everything he had just heard, his arms awkwardly hovering in the air.

    ¡°Thanks for that,¡± Jace murmured, his voice thick with emotion, barely holding back the tears threatening to spill.

    Leo hesitated before patting Jace¡¯s back. ¡°Uh¡­ you¡¯re welcome?¡± he said, still confused. ¡°Not sure what I did, but.. cool, man glad I could help?¡±

    Jace let out a small, shaky laugh, pulling away and wiping at his eyes before Leo could see any tears. ¡°You did more than you think.¡±

    --------Days later-------

    Jace sat on the infirmary bed, peeling a bandage off his forearm, fingers sticky with half-dried blood. The cut wasn¡¯t deep, but it stung. Across from him, Dr. Meyers flipped through a tablet, barely looking up.

    "Your ability to heal never fails to amaze me" she murmured

    Jace gave her a tight-lipped smile. "Perks of being a freak, right?"

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    She glanced at him then, her lips pressing into a thin line. He had said it on purpose, throwing Lucian¡¯s words back out into the open. Watching for a reaction. There¡ªa flicker of something¡ªdiscomfort, maybe even disapproval. She didn¡¯t agree with Lucian¡¯s methods, he could tell. She never had.

    "That¡¯s not what I meant," she said finally.

    "Sure." He leaned forward, lowering his voice. "So why are you still here?"

    Dr. Meyers stiffened, fingers tightening around the tablet. He didn¡¯t push. Not yet. But the seed was planted.

    In training, he stopped playing nice.

    Kai lunged at him, but Jace sidestepped, catching the older man¡¯s wrist and twisting. Kai grunted in surprise, barely managing to yank himself free before Jace¡¯s elbow nearly cracked into his ribs.

    "You¡¯re holding back," Kai sneered, circling him. "Trying to prove something?" Jace rolled his shoulders. "What, you tired already?" Kai¡¯s eyes darkened, and the next round was brutal. Jace let loose, no longer restraining his strength, forcing Kai to work to keep up. Sweat dripped from the man''s brow as Jace dodged, countered, and struck without hesitation. By the end, Kai¡¯s chest heaved with exhaustion, his stance slipping.

    Jace barely looked winded.

    While the instructors caught their breath, Jace wandered just a little too far down the halls, slipping into restricted sections when no one was paying attention. He memorized security clearances, exit routes, the way guards rotated shifts.

    Jace had been working on Rob and Steve for weeks. Every chance he got, he pressed, prodded, let carefully chosen words slip at just the right moments. He made sure to get under their skin, not enough to make them shut him out completely, but just enough to make them think.

    "Man, security detail again?" He leaned against the wall beside them, arms crossed. "That¡¯s gotta sting, huh?"

    "Not in the mood, Dynamo," Rob grunted, staring ahead.

    "No, really," Jace continued, voice laced with something just a little too smug. "You guys were Axel¡¯s go-to, right? His best team. And now you¡¯re stuck guarding doors while Kai, Zeta, and the others take all the action."

    Steve exhaled sharply, like he wanted to say something but bit it back. Jace caught that. Stored it away for later.

    "Axel wouldn¡¯t have let this happen," he added, voice quieter now. Testing.

    Rob¡¯s shoulders stiffened Jace tilted his head, watching them closely. "But then again, he¡¯s not dead, is he?"

    Neither of them spoke. Jace exhaled, shaking his head. "Yeah. That¡¯s what I thought."

    They never cracked all at once. He had to wear them down, chip away at whatever loyalty they still clung to. A comment here, a joke there. Little things that made them second-guess everything.

    Then, one day, after a particularly grueling training session, in a quiet corridor, he found Rob and Steve at their usual post. He leaned against the wall, casual.

    Rob looked away. Steve exhaled slowly. "Where is he?" He asked in a tone asserting his determination not to give up; more silence. Jace didn¡¯t let up. "Come on. You guys fought with him. You gonna tell me you¡¯re fine with this?"

    Finally, Rob muttered, "They locked him up. The Box."

    Jace felt something cold settle in his chest.

    "Where?" Steve hesitated. Then, quietly¡ª"Off-grid." It was something.

    He started breaking things:

    One of the high-power drones during training,  he punched it mid-air, sending it rocketing through a concrete wall, where it crashed into a lab, shattering expensive equipment. The technicians screamed. Jace winced, lifting his hands.

    "Shit. My bad. Implant¡¯s messing with my coordination."

    Lucian grilled him later, eyes boring into him.

    "You¡¯re lying," he murmured. Jace let his shoulders tremble. "I¡ªI don¡¯t know what¡¯s happening. I swear, I just¡ªI can¡¯t control it." The medical team backed him up "prolonged implant use, possible side effect include  coordination loss.

    Lucian smirked, pleased. He liked seeing Jace vulnerable. But he still didn¡¯t trust him.

    Let him keep watching¡ªwhile Jace tore his whole operation down from the inside.

    He pushed his luck with Zara, too. Found her alone in the training room, methodically sharpening a combat knife.

    "You miss him?" he asked, voice low. She didn¡¯t look up. "Who?"

    "Axel." He replied the sharpening stopped for just a second before she resumed. "You¡¯re being reckless, Dynamo."

    "Maybe. Or maybe I just don¡¯t like being a tool."

    Her grip on the blade tightened. But she said nothing else.

    Later, she told Kai what Jace was up to. And Kai wasn¡¯t happy. He cornered Jace in the hall, shoving him back against the wall.

    "You think you can play games, kid?" His voice was low, venomous. "You¡¯re stepping way out of line."

    Jace smirked through the pain. "Yeah? Gonna run and tell Lucian?"

    Kai¡¯s fingers twitched¡ªhe wanted to hit him. But he didn¡¯t. Instead, he stepped back, voice a warning.

    "Next time, I will."

    Jace learned how to disable the implant in the same place he always ended up¡ªthe infirmary.

    One of the younger doctors whispered it to him as they wrapped his wrist.

    "You have to overload it," they muttered. "Flood the implant with power."

    Jace¡¯s pulse picked up. "How much?", She hesitated. "At least 800 megawatts"

    Jace blinked; "That¡¯s¡­ a lot." She gave him a sharp look. "It could stop your heart and they¡¯ll know immediately""

    A challenge, then. Jace filed that away. He didn¡¯t need to use it yet, but soon.

    Then, one day ; Lucian walked onto the training floor. Jace barely reacted as the man approached, eyes cold with amusement.

    "You¡¯ve been keeping me entertained, Dynamo."

    Jace kept his gaze lowered, keeping his shoulders tight. Submissive, scared.

    Lucian¡¯s smirk widened.

    "I have a job for you," he said. "A solo mission. The last storehouse linked to The Maker."

    Jace¡¯s heart thudded.

    "If he¡¯s been hiding anywhere," Lucian continued, "it¡¯s there."

    Jace inhaled slowly, this was it.

    He lifted his head, meeting Lucian¡¯s gaze. Carefully, he let his fingers tremble. Just enough for Lucian to see.

    Lucian¡¯s smirk grew. He thought he had fully taken control of Jace, he was now not more than just a tool in his box

 Chapter 20: Evolution

    It began 106 years ago, a mere week after humanity first broke the bonds of Earth and touched the void of space. The world was still reeling from the triumph of its first venture beyond the atmosphere when the skies erupted in an unprecedented meteor shower. To the common people, it was nothing more than a dazzling celestial display, but the world¡¯s leading governments knew better.

    The meteorites were not ordinary rock. They burned with an ethereal glow, pulsing in colors unseen by human eyes. Upon impact, they released vast amounts of energy, warping the very land where they fell. Soil hardened into crystalline formations, rivers shimmered with unnatural hues, as if infused with an otherworldly essence.

    For the next fifty years, a silent war was waged¡ªnot with weapons, but with ambition. Every major nation raced to collect and harness the meteorites, now named Cosmosium. It became the crown jewel of technological advancement, a limitless energy source that powered military vehicles, industrial machines, and even entire cities. But despite decades of experimentation, every attempt to weaponize it into a tool that a single soldier could wield failed.

    Then came the consequences.

    As the years passed, the air itself changed. Factories, warships, and transports powered by Cosmosium bled invisible fumes and radiation into the world, altering the environment slowly, silently, irreversibly. No one noticed at first. No one suspected that with every breath they took, with every step upon the tainted earth, something deep inside them was shifting.

    By the 80th year after the Cosmosium showers, the world began whispering of the impossible.

    Reports surfaced at first dismissed as superstition of people defying human limits. A man who lifted a burning car with his bare hands. A woman who survived a fall from a skyscraper without a scratch. A child whose cries shattered glass across an entire block. The governments, having unknowingly bred an age of anomalies, reacted with fear and control.

    It was then that the world saw the rise of global organizations created to study, capture, and control the "Enhanced." And quell every rumours hoping to keep the existence from the ordinary citizens

    Among them, the most formidable was Global Organization for Research and Enhancement GORE, the ruling force of Aldoria, home to the metropolis of Culer City. To maintain dominance in the new era, GORE rekindled the race for Cosmosium technology, not for industrial use but to develop tools capable of subduing these emerging anomalies.

    They gathered the finest scientists and engineers forming a coalition to push the limits of what was possible. At the forefront of this effort stood a brilliant yet enigmatic mind¡ªDr. William Markyov who amongst other scientists first theorized that Cosmosium did not merely alter environments¡ªit altered biology, believed that exposure over generations had rewritten human genetics, unlocking abilities beyond comprehension. But while the government saw these discoveries as a means to empower themselves by weaponizing the Enhanced, he saw something else: he saw them as the next step in human evolution. To him, this was not an accident of nature but an opportunity to create something greater. He believed that power was the only true currency in the universe, and those who wielded it would stand above all others.

    In time, the team¡¯s efforts bore fruit¡ªthe birth of Enhanced Technology. These advanced weapons and devices allowed ordinary humans to stand toe-to-toe with enhanced individuals, bridging the gap between natural evolution and artificial augmentation. Exosuits that amplified strength, gauntlets that generated kinetic blasts, neural enhancers that boosted reflexes¡ªall of it was a game-changer in the power struggle between enhanced beings and the rest of the world.

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    But for Markyov, one of the leading minds behind these breakthroughs, it wasn¡¯t enough. He wasn¡¯t satisfied with merely studying enhanced individuals or designing tools to counter them. His ambitions stretched far beyond what his peers at the Global Organization for Research and Enhancement (GORE) deemed acceptable. Markyov wanted more. He wanted to create something greater.

    His experiments grew bolder, more radical. He didn¡¯t just test on people¡ªhe experimented on the very fabric of the world itself. He sought to force evolution where nature had refused to act. People, metals, plants, animals he twisted and refined them, exposing them to conditions no living thing should endure, attempting to craft the ultimate form of existence. The line between science and madness blurred as his work ventured into areas that even his colleagues found abhorrent.

    GORE had once prided itself on pushing the boundaries of human potential, but Markyov¡¯s vision strayed too far from what even they considered acceptable. When whispers of his unethical experiments spread, other nations took notice. What began as quiet disapproval soon escalated into full-scale intervention. The world could not allow a man like Markyov to continue his work unchecked. Under immense pressure, GORE was dismantled. Its members were scattered, its research facilities raided, and its classified projects buried.

    But Markyov refused to be buried with them.

    Rather than face the consequences of his work, he erased every trace of his existence. He abandoned his name, his history, and everything that tied him to GORE. Markyov the scientist ceased to exist.

    And in his place, The Maker was born.

    He vanished into the shadows, but his work did not stop. Freed from oversight, from restrictions, from the shackles of bureaucracy, he now had the freedom to truly create. His ambitions no longer had limits¡ªonly purpose.

    And soon, the world would witness what that purpose truly was.

    Driven by a ravenous hunger for power, Markyov''s actions were unremorseful and full of calculated cruelty. He wasn''t merely stealing cosmosium; he was plundering the very fabric of potential, twisting it to his own vile designs. The artificially replicated cosmosium, a pale imitation of the genuine material, pulsed with an unstable energy, a testament to his reckless ambition. He sold this dangerous substance and the enhanced techs to the highest bidders, criminals, and power-hungry warlords, each transaction a dark pact forged in greed.

    His experiments were a sickening horror of inhumane experimentations. He abducted not just individuals with cosmosium-altered DNA, who remained powerless, but regular individuals too and subjected them to torturous procedures. Their screams echoed through his hidden laboratories, a chilling soundtrack to his relentless pursuit of power. Their lives were just disposable elements in his quest to unlock the secrets of superhuman abilities. His hired help, a motley crew of enhanced and hundreds of regular criminals, who were his instruments of terror, their raids leaving a trail of chaos and fear.

    He reveled in the cat-and-mouse game with CDE, the organization formed to replace the defunct GORE. Each successful heist, each evaded capture, fueled his arrogance. He reveled in the shadows, his activities kept from the public eye. The failures of his experiments did nothing to deter him, each setback only stoking the fires of his obsession. He was a force of nature, a malignant presence that threatened to unravel the very foundations of order. Now, with the CDE''s new enhanced operative having infiltrated his lair, he would ensure that this intruder would serve as his next test subject.

    Earlier, Lucian had briefed Jace, emphasizing the importance of apprehending "the Maker" alive. This time, the restraints were off. This abandoned warehouse, a labyrinth of shadows and forgotten machinery, was deemed the most likely location of Markyov''s operations.

    Jace crashed through the rusted ceiling, the impact sending a shower of dust and debris raining down. Moonlight, slicing through the gaping hole, illuminated the interior. The air hung thick with the stench of chemicals and decay. He moved cautiously, his senses straining to detect any sign of life. The warehouse was a maze of stacked crates, tangled wires, and shadowy spaces.

    As he navigated the darkness, searching for a light switch, his foot landed on a pressure plate. A metallic click echoed through the warehouse, and before he could react, he felt the floor give way. He attempted to leap away, but his head slammed against a protruding pod cover, the impact disorienting him. Then, with a sickening hiss, the pod began to fill with a viscous, gel-like substance, trapping him like an insect in amber. The darkness closed in, and he felt a cold dread grip him.

 Chapter 21: The Maker

    Jace¡¯s consciousness snapped back as he found himself trapped in a circular glass pod. His breathing was heavy, fogging up the inside. No restraints, no visible locks just the smooth, transparent gelatinous material surrounding him. Jace thrashed against the pod¡¯s walls, but the gel clung to him, sapping his strength. Gritting his teeth, he pressed his palms against the glass, forcing every ounce of power into his arms. Cracks splintered across the surface before he let out a roar and pushed shattering the pod apart in a violent burst. The gel spilled onto the floor as he collapsed, gasping for air.

    The moment he stood up , a metallic whirring noise surrounded him. He looked up. Dozens no, hundreds of stick-figure-like robots emerged from the shadows, their thin, spindly limbs clicking into place. A single red light gleamed in the center of their featureless faces.

    Jace barely had time to react before they lunged. He dodged the first swing and countered with a punch, only for his knuckles to meet something denser than anything he had faced before. His eyes widened. What the hell are these things made of? He had faced tough CDE training bots before, but these? This was different. He tightened his fist and increased his striking power the next hit sent one bot flying into another, but they barely stayed down before rebooting.

    Then the lasers came.

    Bright, searing beams fired from the robots'' red eye-like sensors, cutting through the air with sharp precision. Jace barely had time to throw up his arms in defense, but the impact burned against his skin a sharp pain shot through his hands "these aren¡¯t stun blasts¡­ they¡¯re actually trying to kill me" he thought to himself

    He leaped upward, flipping midair before slamming his foot through another bot. He tore through their ranks, his movements a blur of raw power and precision but just when it seemed like he had thinned their numbers, more swarmed in, climbing over their fallen counterparts like insects.

    As he fought, his mind raced. Is this another one of Lucian¡¯s tests? No¡­ these aren¡¯t CDE machines these bots are too durable, too lethal. His movements became sharper, more desperate. This has to be The Maker¡¯s doing.

    A bot swung a metallic limb at his ribs, another shot a laser that grazed his shoulder. His spandex suit bore scorch marks, his skin pulsed with bruises, but he kept moving. He adapted, grabbing a fallen bot and redirecting its laser into another, then using the wreckage to shield himself. His pain was there, but compared to what Lucian had put him through? This was nothing.

    And then, just as he landed, the last three remaining bots did something unexpected.

    They merged.

    Their limbs twisted and compacted, metal screeching as they formed a single, hulking entity. The new bot was nearly three times his size, with multiple red sensors glowing across its body. Without hesitation, it unleashed a storm of lasers from every direction.

    Jace ducked, rolled, evaded¡ªhis body moving on pure instinct. He dashed forward, throwing a punch at its chest¡ªonly for his fist to slam against something as unyielding as solid rock. The impact shot a shockwave up his arm, and a sickening pop echoed through the room.

    Shit¡ª his shoulder had dislocated.

    He stumbled back, sucking in a sharp breath before gritting his teeth. No time for pain. No time for hesitation. He grabbed his arm and with one forceful shove pushed it back into place.

    Then he ran.

    He leaped from wall to wall, gaining momentum, calculating his attack. The red light, it''s always the weak point. He zoned in on one of the sensors and launched himself forward.

    The bot fired. A rain of lasers tried to stop him. But his momentum was too much. With all his strength, he punched straight through the sensor.

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    Instead of exploding, the bot imploded¡ªcollapsing in on itself before crumbling into useless parts.

    Jace landed, smoke rising from his singed suit, his breath heavy but controlled. He exhaled and turned toward the exit¡ªonly for the warehouse lights to suddenly flicker on.

    A slow, mocking clap echoed from above.

    Jace¡¯s eyes snapped up to see a man standing in a glass-walled room overlooking the battleground. The figure stepped forward into the light.

    Jace narrowed his eyes. "Are you the real one, or another exploding robot?"

    The man smirked. "Oh, I¡¯m the real deal. And damn, you are one strong enhanced, tearing through cosmosium-infused metal like that."

    Jace¡¯s expression darkened. "What the hell is cosmosium?"

    The Maker chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow, how in the dark are you? You work for the CDE and don¡¯t even know the origins of enhanced people or enhanced tech? Pathetic."

    Jace tensed, his patience wearing thin. He bent his knees and leaped, aiming straight for The Maker but his body slammed against an invisible force midair. A force field.

    The Maker clicked his tongue. "Tsk, tsk. Don¡¯t be so hasty. I have plans for you." His smirk widened.

    Jace glared at him, his breath still heavy from the fight. "I don¡¯t give a damn about your plans."

    The Maker simply chuckled. "You will." Then, he pressed a button. Without warning, a high-pitched beep echoed from The Maker¡¯s wrist device. Jace¡¯s stomach twisted as the distant sound of explosions rumbled across the city. Not one but multiple.

    Jace spun around, already sprinting out of the warehouse to see what exactly were those explosions a nd then, the chaos began.

    The night sky was ablaze.

    Jace landed hard on a rooftop opposite to Central Towers, the heat from the raging fire already searing his skin. Flames tore through the top floors, thick black smoke suffocating the air. Sirens wailed below, firefighters struggling to reach survivors.

    "There are still people inside!" someone cried from the ground.

    No hesitation, Jace launched himself straight through a window, he shot straight through the smoke, heat licking at his skin as he punched through a glass window on the 37th floor.

    Inside, screams, choking coughs, children crying. The hallway was thick with smoke, flames hungrily devouring the walls.

    Jace moved fast, busting open apartment doors, lifting people in both arms. He took two at a time, bursting through windows, landing on a nearby rooftop, and launching back into the blaze.

    But the heat was unbearable. His vision swam. His lungs burned.

    And then he heard it. A piercing scream from above.

    A mother, clutching her child on the very edge of the crumbling rooftop. Below, the fire escape had collapsed there was no way down.

    Jace didn¡¯t think. He leaped up the burning structure, his muscles screaming in protest. As the mother lost her grip, he caught her midair, twisting his body to shield her and her child from the fire¡¯s heat.

    With one final burst of strength, he landed hard onto a rooftop a building away, rolling to absorb the impact. The mother sobbed into his shoulder. The child clung to his chest.

    "You''re safe," he rasped.

    Gasps and cheers erupted around him. Firefighters rushed in, taking the mother and child.

    Above, the flames raged on. More people were still inside.

    No time to rest. Jace took a step back¡ªthen rocketed upward.

    The news captured every second.

    "Who is he?" the anchor gasped, the live footage showing Jace smashing through another window. "Is this the same man from the bridge incident?"

    The city watched as he vanished into the smoke again, defying the flames, defying death itself.

    The next disaster struck before the fire was even fully extinguished.

    Jace barely had a moment to breathe when he heard the deep roar of steel grinding against steel.

    He turned¡ªhis stomach dropping.

    A metro train was barreling out of control. Sparks flew as it careened off-course, headed straight for the Grand Central Station platform.

    Hundreds of people stood frozen in terror.

    Jace shot forward, diving onto the tracks ahead of the train he planted his feet, bracing himself for the oncoming train as it thundered closer. He thrust out his hands against the speeding front car but it didn¡¯t slow down the force sent him skidding backward, sparks flying under his boots his muscles screamed in protest. Faster, It was still going too fast, with a roar, Jace turned, pressing his back against the train, digging his heels into the tracks. Every fiber of his being strained, his vision blurred, his arms trembling.

    And then¡ª

    The train screeched to a stop and for a moment, silence.

    Then the station erupted into cheers, people flooded from the cars, staring in awe, some in tears. The cameras captured him standing there, smoke rising from his body, his hands trembling from the effort. The news anchor¡¯s voice cracked. "He¡­ He stopped a train with his bare hands". The headlines changed, he wasn¡¯t just a masked vigilante anymore he was something else.!

    Jace staggered, chest heaving. He barely had time to wipe the sweat from his brow when...

    Another explosion!