The next morning, I woke to the floor humming beneath me.
It wasn't loud—just a low, steady vibration in the walls, like the building had a heartbeat. I sat up fast, chest tight. The white void I remembered from earlier was gone. In its place: a clean infirmary, lined with faint blue lights and a dozen empty beds. I wasn't alone in this place. That much was clear now.
The door was cracked open.
I stepped out into a hallway that buzzed with distant voices. Unlike what I expected, this place didn't seem to be a prison.
It was almost like… a school?
Students passed in fitted uniforms with colored bands on their wrists—red, green, blue, and other colors I couldn't catch. Some glanced at me. Most didn't bother. The halls were lined with metal plating and reinforced windows. This definitely wasn't a normal campus.
I wandered until I reached a glass wall overlooking what looked like a training hall. Cracked screens, faded banners, strange artifacts displayed like trophies. At the center stood a brown-haired man in a worn coat, sipping coffee and ignoring a stack of reports on the table next to him.
Mr. Turner glanced up. "You're awake."
His voice was dry gravel.
"You're late for orientation."
"I didn't know I was enrolled," I muttered.
He smirked, then gestured lazily. "Congratulations. You're enrolled, evaluated, and under constant review. As you already know, I'm Mr. Turner. I'll be your guide until you fry yourself or learn not to."
The next few hours were chaos disguised as curriculum.
He fastened a red band around my wrist. "Your powers are no longer dormant," Turner said, tossing me a datapad. "And if they spiral out of control again like they did at your school, no one's going to clean up the mess this time. That band's a limiter. It won't stop your powers, but it'll slow them down.""
Mr. Turner motioned for me to follow him, and led me to a pedestal. Upon it sat a strange, almost invisible orb.
I blinked. "This is the part where I touch it and break the rankings, right?"
Turner gave me a look that said You read too much manga.
"Go on," he said. "Don't be shy. Hand on the orb. Try not to zap yourself."
I hesitated.
Turner raised an eyebrow. "Problem?"
"No," I said. "Just… wondering what happens if I break it."
He chuckled without humor. "You won't."
Challenge accepted, I guess.
I pressed my hand to the orb. At first—nothing. Just a cool, glassy surface. I focused, thinking about storms, lightning, the way the arcs felt as they raced across my fingers.
Then it happened.
A jolt surged through my arm. The orb lit up—soft blue, then harsh white. A ringing filled the room, sharp and sudden. My limiter band sparked once. The glass floor under my feet cracked.
Turner didn't move. His expression didn't change. But the datapad in his hand blinked red.
He sighed. "Well, that's inconvenient."
I yanked my hand back, breathing hard. "Was that… supposed to happen?"
"No." He tapped the pad. "Congratulations. You've officially broken the metric. It's either that or this thing's never seen lightning at that intensity."
"…So what does that mean?"
Turner finally looked at me like he was seeing something new. Not a student. Not a screw-up. Something else.
"It means you're going to be a headache," he said. "For me. For the others. And especially for yourself."
Great.
He motioned for me to follow. "Come on. You'll want to meet your class before they hear the rumors."
We took the elevator down two levels. Turner walked like someone who didn't care if I kept up.
When the doors opened, I found myself staring into a wide lounge full of other students. Tables, couches, training gear shoved into corners. A few heads turned. Whispered voices. I caught phrases like "new recruit" and "the lightning one."
Then someone stepped in front of me.
A girl with dark hair tied back and sharp, curious eyes. She wore a blue band.
"You're the one from Bridgeport, right?" she asked, arms crossed. "The kid who exploded his school."
I froze. "That's… not what happened."
She raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it.
"Name's Iris," she said. "Don't worry. Everyone here's got a disaster behind them. You're just the newest one."
Turner patted my shoulder once. "Good luck, Cael. You'll need it."
And just like that, he walked off—back into the elevator, coffee in hand, reports forgotten.
I stood there, surrounded by strangers, lightning still whispering beneath my skin.
This was going to be fun.