The med-bay lights hummed softly, but everything else felt too loud.
Kairo lay on the white diagnostic bed, staring at the ceiling panels as they flickered with pale blue scans of his vitals — rising, falling, spiking again. Each flicker felt like a heartbeat he couldn't control.
His chest still burned where the lightning burst out of him.
He could still hear the screams.
Still see the fear in the technicians' eyes.
Still feel the moment instinct broke through logic — and the electricity answered it.
"Breathe slowly," Ms. Vale whispered.
She sat beside him, her hands clasped tightly on her lap. Her posture was calm, controlled… but her knuckles were white, and her throat moved with every nervous swallow.
Kairo knew that look.
It wasn't worry.
It was fear.
But not fear of him hurting her — fear of what he was becoming.
"Did I… kill anyone?" Kairo's voice cracked like a snapped wire.
Ms. Vale hesitated. Just for a second.
That second tore him apart.
"No," she finally said. "You didn't. But you could have, Kairo. That flare wasn't a normal outburst. Your power didn't just react — it expanded."
Kairo shut his eyes. The pulse of electricity under his skin throbbed like a roar trapped in his bones.
"I didn't mean to," he whispered. "I didn't even want to fight. I just— I just panicked."
"And that's exactly the problem."
The new voice echoed through the med-bay.
Director Senna stepped into the room with two guards flanking her. Her silver Agency coat reflected the monitors' glow, giving her an almost ghostly aura. Her expression was stone — unreadable, unbreakable.
"Kairo Dune," she said in a tone colder than the steel walls, "your power has surpassed the containment threshold for a Level-3 Electrogenic. Effective immediately, you are being reclassified as Level-5 Hyper-Evolved."
Kairo's breath caught.
He had heard the rumors — Level 5s were rare. Dangerous.
Some were never allowed outside the Agency again.
Ms. Vale stood quickly. "Director, he's not a threat. He lost control once, and—"
"Once is enough," Senna cut sharply. "All recorded data shows that Kairo's emotional spikes directly trigger his power. If he feels fear, panic, anger… the consequences could level an entire sector of the city."
Kairo's stomach twisted.
Images flashed behind his eyelids — buildings collapsing, people running, the world burning because of him.
"I'm not a weapon," he said quietly.
"No." Director Senna stepped closer. "You're a storm. And storms must be predicted, monitored… or contained."
Ms. Vale's jaw clenched. Kairo felt the tension radiating from her like heat.
"He needs guidance," she argued. "He needs control. And he trusts me."
"He needs boundaries," Senna countered. "And containment. He will be transferred to Sub-Level Omega for stabilization training."
Kairo sat up so fast the monitors spiked.
"No," he breathed. "No, I'm not going underground again. I'm not being locked up."
Senna didn't blink. "It's not a cell. It's a protection zone."
Kairo's voice rose. "For who? Me or you?"
The lights in the room flickered.
Ms. Vale reached toward him gently.
"Kairo, breathe. Control your heartbeat. Control your mind."
But something was wrong.
The electricity inside him wasn't listening.
It was moving on its own — crawling up his arms, buzzing beneath his veins, thickening the air around him with static.
He wasn't angry.
He wasn't sad.
He was scared.
And fear… fear always lit the fuse.
"Kairo," Ms. Vale whispered, stepping closer. "Look at me. Focus on my voice. You are not a danger. You are not your power."
But Senna's voice shattered the moment.
"Guards. Prepare the dampeners."
"No!" Vale snapped. "That will make it worse—"
Too late.
The guards lunged forward, activating their suppression units.
The world burst into light.
Kairo's body erupted in a shockwave of electric instinct — not an attack, but a reflex of pure terror. The lights shattered. The air cracked. The bed shot backwards against the wall. Every metal surface in the room glowed white-hot for a split second.
And Kairo…
Kairo felt the horrible, undeniable truth:
The power wasn't just inside him anymore.
It was awakening.
Choosing for itself.
When the flash faded, the room was silent.
The guards lay unconscious.
Monitors were fried.
The walls were scorched black.
Kairo stood in the center of it all, trembling uncontrollably, sparks dancing across his fingertips like small, wild creatures.
Ms. Vale looked at him with wide, terrified eyes — but not at the destruction.
At what she now knew.
"Kairo…" she whispered. "Your power isn't evolving. It's reacting to something. Something else. Something you're connected to."
Director Senna wiped soot from her coat, staring at him like a puzzle piece finally clicking into place.
"So it's true," she murmured. "The storm wasn't random. It was a signal."
Kairo's heart pounded.
"A signal for what?"
Senna's eyes burned into his.
"Not for what…"
She stepped closer.
"For who."