After Angelo agreed to cooperate with the military, they led him to a secured training field, far from any civilian eyes. Curious soldiers lined the perimeter, whispering among themselves. A few had seen what he did during the breakout, but most didn't know what to expect.
Colonel Pierce, stern and unreadable, stepped forward. "Show us what you can do."
Angelo scanned the range. He spotted targets lined up far in the distance—no one was nearby. Taking a breath, he stomped the ground.
Stone pillars erupted from beneath his feet, growing rapidly in a line toward the targets. By the time they reached the end, they were nearly three meters tall—powerful, but completely missed the mark. The formation veered to the left, slamming into the dirt just shy of the targets.
Mouths dropped open. A few soldiers backed away. The colonel, keeping his composure, nodded slowly. "That was… impressive. Wildly off target—but impressive. What else?"
Angelo demonstrated more: he summoned jagged icicles that pierced through the air, hurled fireballs that scorched the ground, and lifted small objects using only his mind.
"I can also refill water bottles," he added with a slight grin. "Not exactly 'superhero' stuff, but hey, you're welcome to watch the magic."
The colonel raised a brow. "How are you doing all of this?"
Angelo glanced at his hands. "I don't know. When I woke up after everything… it just felt natural. Like I've always known how."
The colonel stepped forward. "Kid, I don't know what you are or where you came from—but I do know this: with powers like yours, we have a fighting chance. We just need to work on your accuracy—and I've got the perfect person for that."
He called for Lieutenant Marcelle Hale, a sharp, no-nonsense soldier known for her precision and discipline. She arrived minutes later, her expression guarded as she approached.
The moment she felt Angelo's presence, her spine stiffened. She glanced at him like she was staring at a ticking bomb. "You want me to train this… monster?"
Angelo flinched, looking down at his feet.
Colonel Pierce's voice cut through the murmurs like steel. "Lieutenant Hale. That young man might be the only shot we have at stopping what's coming. Your job is to train him—make him as sharp and precise as you."
She hesitated for a beat, then saluted. "Sir, yes sir. Leave him to me."
Turning to Angelo, she said curtly, "We start from the basics." She tossed him a sidearm. "Let's see if you can shoot straighter than you stomp."
Weeks passed. Under Hale's strict guidance, Angelo transformed. Every day was a new challenge—running drills until his legs ached, hand-to-hand combat training that made his muscles burn, and hours spent in the firing range as he struggled to hit the target. He learned how to disassemble and reassemble firearms, memorizing every part, every click. He trained his mind to focus, to refine his control over his abilities.
He learned quickly. Every lesson was absorbed like a sponge. The first time he hit a target dead center, Hale gave him a nod of approval. "Not bad," she muttered, barely hiding her surprise.
By the end of his training, Angelo had become a different person—more disciplined, more focused, sharper. And with every passing day, Hale's opinion of him shifted from cold disdain to reluctant respect.
One afternoon, after a grueling session, she handed him a water bottle. "Hey… about before," she said, her voice softer than usual. "I shouldn't have called you a monster."
Angelo took the bottle and smiled faintly. "It's okay. People fear what they don't understand."
He gazed up at the sky, voice quieter now. "When this is over… I just want to go back to how things were. With my family."
Before Hale could respond, a voice echoed inside his mind. Cold. Distorted. Inhuman.
"Are you sure they'll ever accept you?"
Angelo's eyes darted around. No one was near. The soldiers continued their drills. Hale was sipping her water like nothing happened.
"You don't belong here… and deep down, you know it."
Angelo clutched his head, staggered by the sheer weight of the presence behind the voice. It wasn't spoken aloud—it resonated from somewhere deeper. From the void.
Whatever it was… it had found him again.