The Flare

Rebirth

Nightfall in Wellrose

The city of Wellrose lay in slumber, its neon signs flickering weakly against the quiet darkness. The streets, usually alive with activity, were empty save for the occasional hum of a passing car.

A lone figure moved through the night, his footsteps muffled by the damp pavement. He was draped in a long brown jacket, the collar turned up, shadowing most of his face beneath the brim of a wide hat. He walked with purpose, his destination clear.

He stopped in front of Rackies Casino.

A bouncer stood at the entrance—a hulking man, his muscles straining against the tight fabric of his suit. His face was carved with deep scowls, his dark eyes scanning the stranger with suspicion.

"What are you looking for?" his voice was sharp, almost threatening.

The man said nothing.

The bouncer shifted, his stance widening. "I asked you a question."

No response.

Inside the casino, the air was thick with cigarette smoke and murmured conversations. Within the VIP lounge, under the dim glow of golden chandeliers, two men sat surrounded by excess—a haze of smoke, half-dressed women, and untouched whiskey glasses.

One of them, an older man with sleek gray hair, leaned forward, tapping the ash from his cigarette into a crystal tray.

"Rackies, do you have the item?"

Across from him, Rackies, a bald man with a gold earring glinting in the low light, gave a slight nod. With a flick of his wrist, he gestured to his men.

One of them disappeared behind a curtain and returned moments later, carrying a black briefcase. He placed it on the table.

Rackies leaned back, watching as the gray-haired man unlatched the briefcase.

A soft green glow burst forth, illuminating his face in an eerie light. He inhaled sharply, eyes widening.

"Where’s the mon—"

A scream tore through the air.

The VIP lounge froze. Heads turned toward the casino floor.

Then came another scream. Louder. More desperate.

The two men rushed to the entrance, stopping dead in their tracks.

A figure wreathed in flames stood in the center of the room.

He wasn’t just on fire—he was fire. The flames clung to him like a second skin, flickering and shifting, casting dancing shadows on the terrified faces of gamblers and staff.

Lying at his feet was the bouncer, his charred body barely recognizable, the smell of burnt flesh thick in the air.

Rackies’ pulse pounded in his ears. He turned to seek help from his guest, but—

The man was already gone.

---

A Change of Plans

The apartment was dark, save for the faint glow of the streetlights outside. The door creaked open, and Alex slipped inside, moving carefully to avoid making a sound.

He wasn’t careful enough.

Bella was already awake, sitting on the sofa, arms crossed, eyes sharp with suspicion.

"Where have you been?"

Alex hesitated. "Carrying out business."

He held up a brown envelope and handed it to her before sitting down.

"I’ve been thinking," he said. "Kay was right. We need a normal life, even while protecting the city."

Bella raised an eyebrow. "And how do you propose we do that?"

Alex leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "We get jobs."

She scoffed. "Jobs? Who the hell would hire a high school dropout?"

"I don’t know," he admitted. "But we have to try."

Bella stared at the envelope for a moment before Alex swiftly snatched it back, preventing her from opening it.

She sighed, rubbing her temples. "I guess it’s time to face reality."

Without another word, she stood and walked into her bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Alex sat there, staring blankly at the envelope, his mind adrift in uncertainty.

---

Bella’s Interview

Bella sat stiffly in a leather chair, her hands folded in her lap. Across from her sat a plump red-haired woman, her face framed by thick glasses, the nameplate on her desk reading: Margaret Hicken, Owner.

Margaret studied the file in front of her before looking up. "Bella Taughton?" Her brows lifted. "Scottish?"

Bella gave a small nod. "Yes."

Margaret hummed in acknowledgment before flipping through the papers.

"What makes you think you’d be a good fit for Hicken’s Kitchen?"

Bella sat up straighter. "I may not be the best fit yet, but I will be once I gain the experience."

Margaret smirked. "And what makes you think I’ll hire you just so you can ‘gain experience’?"

Bella’s lips curled slightly. "Because Hicken’s Kitchen is known for nurturing individuals and setting them up for success."

Margaret studied her for a moment, her smirk turning into a full smile.

"That’s true."

Leaning back in her chair, she extended her hand. "Welcome to Hicken’s Kitchen."

Bella took her hand firmly. "Thank you, Madame. I promise you won’t regret this."

"I know I won’t."

---

New Beginnings at the WPD

The Wellrose Police Department was a monolith of concrete and steel, its massive glass doors reflecting the city lights. Inside, the station was a whirlwind of activity—officers moving between desks, ringing phones, muffled voices discussing case files.

Alex stood outside, gripping a sealed envelope in his hands. He had pulled every favor he had to get this opportunity.

Taking a breath, he stepped inside.

Minutes later, he stood before Chief Donovan, a towering man, at least 6’11, with a thick beard and piercing eyes.

The Chief flipped through Alex’s file, his expression unreadable. "So… you’re a rookie from Dallas?"

Alex nodded. "Transferred here to gain experience in a smaller town."

The Chief chuckled. "Wellrose? A smaller town?" He shook his head. "You were misinformed, kid."

Closing the file, he stood. "Come with me."

Alex followed, unsure of what to expect.

The Chief led him to a cluttered desk where a Caucasian woman sat, flipping through reports.

"Detective Wells," he called.

The woman barely looked up.

"Meet your new partner, Rosicky. He’s here for his internship."

Detective Wells sighed and set down her pen. "Chief, I work alone."

"Not anymore," the Chief said, finality in his tone. "I’ll leave you two to it."

As he walked away, Alex was left standing awkwardly.

Detective Wells finally looked at him. "Don’t just stand there. Sit."

Before he could move, her phone rang.

A case.

She grabbed her coat and turned to him. "Hey, intern. We’re leaving."

Alex dropped the chair and hurried after her.

---

---

The Aftermath of Fire

Detective Wells stood over the bodies, the stench of burnt flesh thick in the air. The victims were charred beyond recognition, their limbs twisted in unnatural angles. The streetlights above flickered, casting eerie shadows over the crime scene.

Her jaw tightened. Another superhuman attack.

She turned to a nearby officer. "What happened here?"

The officer, still shaken, wiped sweat from his brow. "We’re not sure, ma’am. But whatever it was—it's powerful."

Alex, standing nearby, studied the scene carefully. Then, without hesitation, he muttered, "It was a superhuman."

Wells scoffed, turning to him. "And what makes you so sure?"

Alex pointed to the center of the victims' chests, where the burns were unnaturally focused.

"See how the heat concentrated here?" He gestured at the wounds, the skin around them completely disintegrated. "This wasn't just an explosion or a fire. Whoever did this didn’t just burn them—they incinerated them."

Wells narrowed her eyes. "And?"

Alex’s voice was steady. "It means whoever did this can throw fireballs."

For a second, Wells just stared at him.

Then, without taking her eyes off him, she grabbed her radio.

"We’ve got a rogue superhuman on the loose."

---

A Harsh Reality

Alex dragged himself home, exhaustion weighing him down. His muscles ached from the day’s events, and his mind refused to shut off.

As soon as he stepped inside, a mouthwatering aroma hit him.

The dining table was fully set, the dim apartment lit with warm hues from a small lamp in the corner. A tray of golden-brown baked chicken sat in the center, steam rising from its surface.

Bella stepped out from the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel.

"Oh, welcome back, Alex." She set down the last dish. "How was your day?"

Alex blinked at the feast. "Where did you get all this?"

Bella smirked. "Employee benefits." She sat down. "I got a job at Hicken’s Kitchen."

Alex pulled out a chair but didn’t sit yet. "That’s great."

Bella took a bite of food before answering. "What about you?"

He hesitated. "I’m working at the Wellrose Police Department."

Silence.

Bella swallowed slowly. "That’s… nice." Then her expression changed. "What’s the pay?"

Alex’s voice dropped. "There is no pay."

Bella frowned. "What do you mean there’s no pay?"

"It’s an internship. I didn’t know interns don’t get paid."

She stared at him for a long moment.

Then she stood up abruptly, shaking her head. "You’re impossible, Alex."

She stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Alex exhaled, rubbing his temples. But before he could process the conversation, his eyes caught movement on the TV screen.

Breaking news.

A superhuman with fire abilities was rampaging through the city.

---

Flames and Thunder

Detective Wells stepped out of her patrol car, the heat from the burning buildings washing over her. A uniformed officer ran up to her, his face pale with fear.

"What’s the situation?" she asked.

"He’s burning everything in his path." The officer's voice wavered. "We… we don’t know how to stop him."

Wells turned toward the center of the chaos.

A towering figure wreathed in flames stood in the middle of the street. The air around him shimmered with heat, his body a mass of swirling fire. Every step he took left scorched footprints on the pavement.

Wells grabbed a megaphone.

"Whatever you are—stop immediately and put your hands in the air!"

No response.

"Last warning!"

The fireman raised his arm, and before she could react—

A fireball launched toward her.

She fired.

The bullet melted mid-air before reaching him.

The fireball struck a nearby car, detonating it in a fiery blast. The shockwave sent Wells and the officers sprawling.

Then, in a flash of blue light, the fireman was hurled backward.

A crackle of electricity filled the air.

Standing before him, sparks flickering at his feet, was The Flare.

Alex’s voice was calm but firm. "Who are you?"

The fireman tilted his head, amused. He raised his hand and, in an instant, hurled a massive fireball toward Wells.

Alex moved before anyone could blink.

A lightning streak shot through the air, and in a blur, Wells was suddenly on the opposite sidewalk, completely unharmed.

She gasped, disoriented. One second she had been standing in the line of fire—then she was just… gone.

Alex turned back to the fireman.

"I won’t ask again. Who are you?"

The fireman grinned, his eyes burning embers of rage.

"I am your worst nightmare."

Alex’s knuckles crackled with electricity.

"We’ll see about that."

He sprinted forward.

Then something went wrong.

As soon as he got close, the fireman’s entire body exploded outward—a blast wave of heat and flame erupted, slamming into Alex like a wrecking ball.

He was launched off his feet, his body crashing through a nearby building’s glass window.

His vision blurred. His body screamed in pain.

Through hazy eyes, he saw the fireman reassemble himself.

The burning figure strode forward, closing the distance in seconds. Then he grabbed Alex by the collar and hurled him through another wall.

Pain shot through Alex’s body as he crashed onto the pavement outside. Before he could recover, the fireman was already on top of him, his fists pounding into Alex’s stomach like sledgehammers.

Alex gasped for air, his suit flickering with unstable energy.

The fireman leaned in, his molten breath scorching Alex’s face.

"You puny hero." Another punch. "You think you can stop me?"

Then—

"Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?"

A new voice rang through the air.

The fireman turned—just in time for a shockwave to slam into him.

The ground shattered beneath him as he was flung backward into the building behind him.

Alex coughed, struggling to sit up.

A familiar figure rushed to his side.

Bella.

She grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, let’s get out of here."

---

A Breaking Point

Back at the apartment, Alex sat on the sofa, pressing his sore ribs. The pain wasn’t just physical—it was mental.

Bella stood across from him, arms crossed. "Why did you go off without me? I thought we were a team."

Alex didn’t answer.

She sighed. "You could have died, Alex."

His voice was cold. "You can leave, Bella."

She stiffened. "What?"

Alex looked up, his expression distant. "Kay was right."

Bella’s eyes flashed with anger. "So that’s it? After all our years together, you think I’ll just throw it all away?"

Alex’s fist clenched.

"The Paragon. Everything. It was all just a joke. A ruse to escape reality."

Bella took a step back. "If that’s how you see it… then I don’t care. I’ve given too much to this family to walk away now."

She turned and walked out, leaving Alex alone.

---