Chapter five
1185 Words
When Ethan opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Maya glaring at him.
Not the relieved kind of glare.
Not the emotional "thank goodness you're alive" kind.
The very specific Maya Torres glare that said:
I am furious, worried, and already preparing a lecture.
He immediately considered pretending to still be unconscious.
"Don't."
Too late.
He sighed.
The ceiling above him was familiar.
Concrete.
Fluorescent strip lighting.
Level Three of the abandoned parking structure.
Their makeshift base.
Which meant Maya had somehow dragged his half-conscious body all the way from East District without attracting attention.
Honestly, that was almost more impressive than the powers.
"How long was I out?"
"Three hours."
Her arms stayed folded.
She was sitting on a folding chair directly beside the old couch he was lying on.
Tablet balanced on one knee.
Hair damp from rain.
Expression sharp enough to cut steel.
"Please tell me there's an explanation for why you thought fighting a human earthquake was a solid tactical decision."
Ethan groaned and sat up.
Instant regret.
Every muscle in his body screamed.
"Technically," he muttered, "I didn't fight him."
Maya stared.
"Ethan."
"I got hit by him repeatedly."
"Ethan."
"And then collapsed dramatically."
Her glare somehow intensified.
He raised his hands.
"Okay. Yeah. Bad idea."
"Bad idea?"
She stood.
"Bad idea is microwaving metal. You launched yourself at a superpowered demolition machine with zero plan and almost got flattened."
He looked away.
She wasn't wrong.
That was the annoying part.
Maya exhaled sharply and sat back down.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then her voice softened.
"You scared me."
That made him look up.
Her expression had changed.
Still frustrated.
Still tense.
But underneath it was something else.
Fear.
Real fear.
Ethan swallowed.
"I'm sorry."
She studied him for a second.
Then nodded once.
"Good."
Silence lingered.
Then Maya tossed her tablet into his lap.
"Now look."
The screen was filled with videos.
Social media posts.
News clips.
Blurry footage from East District.
One video had already passed two million views.
Its title:
WHO IS ASHBOURNE'S BLUE-HOODED HERO?
Ethan blinked.
"…Oh."
"Oh?" Maya repeated.
"You launched yourself forty feet through open air in front of approximately three hundred witnesses."
He scrolled.
Clip after clip showed him.
The leap over the police barricade.
The landing.
The fight.
The moment he braced the collapsing support column.
Even through rain and distance, the blue kinetic sparks were unmistakable.
Comments flooded every post.
IS THIS REAL??
BRO THINKS HE'S IN A COMIC BOOK
WHOEVER THIS GUY IS HE SAVED MY COUSIN
BLUE HOOD GUY GOAT
Ethan stared.
His chest tightened.
This had happened.
People had seen it.
There was no undoing that.
"Well," Maya said.
"Congratulations."
"On what?"
She smirked.
"You're internet famous."
He groaned and dropped the tablet onto his lap.
"Kill me."
"Tempting."
A notification popped onto the screen.
Ashbourne local news.
Live update.
The anchor stood in front of the damaged overpass.
"…witnesses are now referring to the unidentified individual as the 'Blue Hood.' Authorities have not confirmed—"
Maya paused the stream.
"There it is."
Ethan frowned.
"There what is?"
"The name."
He stared.
"Blue Hood?"
She shrugged.
"Could be worse."
"It sounds ridiculous."
"It sounds marketable."
"I'm not branding myself."
Maya raised an eyebrow.
"You literally need an identity if you're planning to keep doing this."
His stomach sank.
That word.
Keep.
Doing.
This.
Because until now, some part of him had still treated everything like an accident.
Temporary chaos.
Something he'd eventually wake up from.
But seeing those videos—
seeing the people he'd helped—
made one thing impossible to ignore.
He'd made a choice on that overpass.
And choices had consequences.
"What if I don't?"
Maya blinked.
"What?"
"What if I stop?"
The words felt strange leaving his mouth.
Maya studied him carefully.
"You want to?"
He opened his mouth.
Then stopped.
Did he?
He thought about the trapped passengers.
The fear in their faces.
The relief when they escaped.
Then he thought about Breaker.
About how completely outmatched he'd been.
How easily that fight could have ended differently.
"I don't know."
For once, Maya didn't answer immediately.
She leaned back in her chair, considering.
Then:
"You don't have to decide tonight."
He nodded.
Grateful.
Then she pointed at his chest.
"But if you do keep going, you're absolutely not doing it in that hoodie."
He blinked.
"What?"
"That thing has three holes in it and smells like wet concrete."
"It's comfortable."
"It's tragic."
"Maya."
"Ethan."
He sighed.
She grinned.
"The point is, if you're going to keep throwing yourself at collapsing infrastructure, we're doing this properly."
A dangerous spark lit her eyes.
The engineering spark.
The one that usually preceded expensive projects and questionable legality.
"We're building you a suit."
Two days later, Ashbourne Technical Academy was chaos.
Every hallway buzzed with conversation.
Students clustered around phones, replaying overpass footage.
Speculation was everywhere.
"No way he's local."
"Think he's military?"
"Dude literally jumped over a bus."
Ethan kept his head down and moved through the noise like a ghost.
No one looked twice at him.
Which should've been reassuring.
Instead, it felt surreal.
They were all talking about him.
And had no idea.
At his locker, Maya appeared out of nowhere.
Coffee in hand.
Tablet under her arm.
"You're trending in six countries."
He nearly dropped his books.
"Can you stop opening conversations like that?"
"No."
She handed him the coffee.
He blinked.
"You bought me coffee?"
"Don't get emotional."
He took it.
"…Thanks."
She smirked.
"Fuel up. We're starting prototype work after class."
He frowned.
"Already?"
"Please. I had half the schematics done before first period."
Of course she did.
Before he could answer, movement at the end of the hallway caught his attention.
A familiar figure had just entered the building.
Tall.
Sharp-featured.
Dark coat.
Hands in his pockets.
Nolan Price.
Static.
Though Ethan didn't know that name yet.
Their eyes met across the crowded hall.
For just a second.
And something cold twisted in Ethan's chest.
Nolan's expression didn't change.
But there was something in his stare.
Recognition.
Calculation.
As if he already knew something he shouldn't.
Then he turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Maya followed Ethan's gaze.
"New transfer?"
Ethan frowned.
"Yeah."
"You know him?"
"Not really."
The answer came too quickly.
And something about that unsettled him.
Because the truth was—
he did know Nolan.
Years ago.
Before his family moved away.
Before they lost contact.
They'd been close once.
Best friends, maybe.
But the person he'd just seen?
That wasn't the Nolan he remembered.
And deep down, Ethan suddenly had the uneasy feeling that this wasn't a coincidence.
Not even close.
That night, as rain tapped softly against his bedroom window, Ethan stared at the sketches Maya had sent him.
Suit designs.
Mask concepts.
Energy channel placements.
At the top of one page, she'd written a single word:
PULSE
He stared at it for a long time.
Then, slowly—
he smiled.
For the first time since the accident, the fear was still there.
But now something else was growing beside it.
Purpose.
- Writer
