Chapter three
1151 Words
The abandoned parking structure smelled like rain, rust, and bad decisions.
Which, Ethan was beginning to realize, was becoming a recurring theme in his life.
He stood in the center of Level Six, staring up through the open concrete gaps above him where Ashbourne's cloudy evening sky loomed overhead.
The city lights flickered in the distance.
Wind swept through the empty structure, carrying the distant sounds of traffic and sirens.
And beside him, Maya Torres was grinning like a scientist who had just discovered something deeply unethical and very exciting.
"This," she said, setting down a black duffel bag with dramatic flourish, "is where science happens."
Ethan eyed the bag.
"What's in there?"
"Equipment."
She unzipped it.
Inside were:
Two drones.
A thermal scanner.
A battered laptop.
Several sensors.
Three rolls of duct tape.
And what appeared to be a watermelon.
Ethan stared.
"What is that for?"
Maya looked offended.
"Control group."
"That does not answer the question."
"It will."
He sighed.
He had stopped trying to understand how her brain worked years ago.
It was easier that way.
Maya pulled out her tablet and tapped rapidly.
The two drones buzzed to life, rising into the air.
Blue lights blinked beneath their frames.
"Okay," she said. "We're establishing parameters."
"Translation?"
"We're figuring out if your body has become a walking physics violation."
"That's comforting."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"Still taking it."
Ethan shook his head.
For the first time since the explosion, some of the tension in his chest eased.
Maya had that effect.
She made impossible things feel manageable.
Even if her methods were occasionally insane.
Mostly insane.
"First test," she said.
"Movement threshold."
For the next hour, Ethan ran.
Jumped.
Landed.
Dashed.
Repeatedly.
While Maya barked increasingly specific instructions.
"Run to that pillar and stop suddenly!"
He did.
Nothing happened.
"Again, faster!"
Still nothing.
"Again, but imagine you're late for class."
"That's your scientific variable?"
"It's a strong motivator."
He sprinted harder.
Halfway across the platform, pressure surged through his legs.
Before he could react—
he launched forward.
"Whoa—"
He slammed chest-first into a concrete support beam.
The entire structure shook.
Dust rained from above.
Ethan slid to the floor with a groan.
Maya stared at her tablet.
Then at the cracked pillar.
Then back at the tablet.
"Well."
He peeled himself off the ground.
"Well what?"
She slowly looked up.
"You hit that at approximately sixty kilometers per hour."
He blinked.
"…That seems bad."
"It is deeply concerning."
"Should I be worried?"
"Oh, absolutely."
"Great."
She smirked.
"But also very cool."
Of course that was her takeaway.
By test number twelve, they had established several things:
One:
Ethan's powers activated most strongly through sudden acceleration or impact.
Two:
He could absorb force instinctively.
Falling from thirty feet no longer even bruised him.
Three:
The energy built inside him physically.
Like pressure.
The longer he held it, the stronger it became.
And four—
he had almost no control over release.
Which became painfully obvious when Maya set up the watermelon.
"This is stupid," Ethan said.
"It is necessary."
"It's a watermelon."
"It represents science."
"It represents fruit."
"Punch it."
He stared at her.
"Maya."
"Ethan."
He sighed.
Fine.
He approached the watermelon perched on a folding chair.
Blue sparks flickered faintly across his knuckles.
He drew back his fist.
And punched.
The result was immediate.
A violent kinetic burst exploded outward.
The chair disintegrated.
The watermelon vanished in a mist of pink vapor.
The shockwave blasted across the structure.
One of Maya's drones spiraled out of control and smashed into a wall.
Silence.
Ethan slowly lowered his fist.
"Oh."
Maya stared at the empty space where the watermelon had once existed.
Then she looked at him.
Then at the ruined drone.
Then back at him.
"That was my expensive drone."
"Sorry?"
"…Do it again."
He blinked.
"What?"
"Not now," she said quickly, crouching beside the wreckage. "But eventually. That was incredible."
He laughed despite himself.
"You're terrifying."
"I've accepted this."
An hour later, they sat on the edge of the structure's sixth floor.
Legs dangling over open air.
The city stretched endlessly below.
Lights shimmered against wet streets.
Cars crawled through distant intersections like glowing insects.
Maya typed notes into her tablet while Ethan stared at his hands.
Tiny blue sparks danced briefly between his fingers.
Then disappeared.
"You're thinking too hard," Maya said.
He glanced sideways.
"What makes you say that?"
"You get that face."
"What face?"
"The one where your eyebrows do that thing."
"My eyebrows do not do a thing."
"They absolutely do."
He snorted.
Then his expression sobered.
"What if this gets worse?"
Maya paused.
"What do you mean?"
"What if I can't control it?"
He flexed his hands.
"I blasted through my bedroom wall last night."
Her teasing expression faded.
"That bad?"
He nodded.
"I didn't even mean to."
For a moment, only wind filled the silence.
Then Maya closed her tablet.
"Ethan."
He looked at her.
"We'll figure it out."
Simple words.
No dramatic speech.
No fake certainty.
Just quiet confidence.
And somehow, that helped more.
"What if 'figuring it out' involves me accidentally leveling half the city?"
"Then I'll make a very strongly worded apology post."
He laughed.
Actually laughed.
Maya smiled.
"There he is."
He shook his head.
"How are you this calm?"
She shrugged.
"Because panicking is inefficient."
"That's not a real emotional response."
"It is for engineers."
He rolled his eyes.
But his chest felt lighter.
For the first time since the accident, this didn't feel like the end of his normal life.
It felt like the beginning of something else.
Something terrifying.
Something impossible.
Something he wasn't ready for.
A sharp electronic buzz interrupted the moment.
Maya frowned at her tablet.
"What?"
Her expression changed.
Confusion.
Then concern.
"Ethan…"
She turned the screen toward him.
A city alert flashed across it.
EMERGENCY INCIDENT REPORTED – EAST DISTRICT TRANSIT OVERPASS COLLAPSE
Live footage loaded beneath the warning.
Smoke.
Screaming.
Twisted steel.
Panicked crowds.
And then—
the camera caught movement.
A massive figure standing atop broken concrete.
Broad-shouldered.
Motionless.
Orange fractures glowing along his arms.
Breaker.
Neither of them spoke.
Ethan stared at the screen.
At the devastation.
At the people trapped below.
Then he stood.
Maya looked up sharply.
"Ethan."
"I have to go."
"You don't even know what that thing is."
"People are down there."
"You're not ready."
He knew she was right.
Every rational part of him knew.
He barely understood his powers.
He had no suit.
No experience.
No plan.
But on the screen, a section of the overpass groaned and shifted.
More civilians screamed.
And Ethan made his choice.
He turned toward the stairwell.
Maya grabbed his wrist.
He stopped.
Her eyes searched his.
Worried.
Afraid.
But she let go.
"Come back."
He gave the smallest nod.
Then he ran.
Toward the first real fight of his life.
- Writer
