Rey shifted onto his back, the sudden pain causing him to lose his breath. "Fucking hell," he rasped, the metallic tang of blood seeping onto his tongue. The bleak, grey sky above offered a perverse kind of comfort, even as the slow, cold rain fell on his face. He tried moving, but his limbs refused, aching, protesting. His muscles screamed in revolt, bruised and strained—the consequence of his Gift. A chilling wind passed through the alley. The nearby buildings, hastily put up after the Dark Ages, groaned in protest, causing Rey to slightly shiver. He lay there, letting the wet mud soak into his clothes and hair as he stared, thinking about his future, if there was one for him.
Soft footsteps came from his right; he didn't bother looking, knowing he wouldn't be able to. The footsteps came to a stop right beside him. Squatting down, they cocked their head, their long, blondish-white hair falling to the side as they looked at him like a curious specimen. Grabbing a stick from the side they started poking at him around his body.
"Yo, you still alive? Or are you dead? Give me a sign if you're dead."
Grunting, Rey slowly moved his arm—the pain from the overload finally becoming bearable—grabbing the stick and tried throwing it, though unsuccessfully. "If I was dead, how would I even talk, you dumbass?" Rey rasped, the air still feeling like little spikes in his lungs.
"I don't know, you try cheering up your only friend as they almost kill themselves trying to be Vanguard again." Ezequiel flopped onto the ground beside Rey, staring up at the clouds drifting across the sky. "I don't get what's with you and the sky, it's always so borrring." Propping himself up on his elbow, Ezequiel turned to Rey. "So how long are you gonna sit there, sulking like some emo kid? Your dad sent me to make sure you didn't get your sorry ass killed."
Rey sat there, silent throughout the whole thing, still staring up at the clouds. Ezequiel's face softened, "You know how your dad is; he's worried what happened to your mom will happen to you, any you know that would destroy him."
A beat passed before Rey spoke. "I couldn't just let them gang up on that girl," Rey turned, his eyes locking onto Ezequiel's. "I couldn't just let them kill her or do whatever people like them do to girls."
Another soft silence pasted before Ezequiel spoke again, "And I don't think helping people involves nearly blowing yourself to bits." Ezequiel stood up offering a hand to Rey, "Whatever it may be there's no arguing with you hero-boy. Now let's go get you patched up; can't have you bleeding out on me."
Rey gripped Ezequiel's offered hand, letting his friend pull him to his feet. Propped up by Ezequiel, they walked away from the clearing, stepping carefully over discarded pieces of the villain's tech and bloodied, broken pavement from the fight minutes ago.
They walked in a strained silence, only broken by the quiet, uneven rasps of Rey's breath. The buildings around them looked as if a small push would topple them over—a stark, ironic contrast to the name New Liberty and the promise of America's most prosperous city.
They reached a small 2 story brick building, littered with graffiti, from murals of heroes to hastily drawn obscenities. Ezequiel tightened his grip as they slowly walked up the building's narrow stairs. He knocked. They waited, hearing a distant crash and a string of muffled curses before the door finally swung open.
Adam, Rey's father, stood tall in the doorway, his frame imposing and dusted with flour. His height showed exactly where Rey got his own build. Seeing his son at the doorstep, leaning on Ezequiel, he sighed and pressed a large, flour dusted hand. "Thanks, Ezequiel. Can you get him inside and help patch him up?" Turning to Rey, his gaze worried but hard, he stated, "As for you, we're going to have a talk about this after you're patched up." He turned away, mumbling something Rey couldn't catch, and disappeared back toward the kitchen.
Rey sat there, the numbing pain having slowly faded away. Only the deep ache of his muscles remained. Ezequiel returned, carrying a traditional first-aid kit in one hand, while the other began to glow with a soft, golden luminescence. Photokinetic Structuring at work. He placed the kit down, and focused the light on Rey's most bruised limbs. The golden glow seeped into Rey's skin, not eliminating the damage, but gently knitting the surface wounds and rapidly stabilizing the muscle fibers against further swelling. The light faded, and Ezequiel looked faintly drained, running a hand through his blond hair.
After finishing the final bandage (and letting his Gift work its subtle magic), Ezequiel stood and clapped Rey lightly on the shoulder before heading to the door. "Well, see you at school tomorrow, Rey. Don't get yourself killed before then." With a final smile, Ezequiel backed out, pulling the door shut behind him.
Rey sat there, his mind still racing, as the raw pain slowly subsided. Only the steady, rhythmic sounds of his father working in the kitchen rang throughout the house. After a while, Adam came into the room. He hung his apron on a nearby stand before sinking heavily onto the couch next to Rey, propping his legs on the coffee table.
Adam didn't look at him. "So, are you going to tell me what happened this time?" Rey turned his head to look at his father, who was staring out the window, where the low drone of traffic and people passing could be heard.
"It wasn't anything serious. I was just helping someone," Rey mumbled, turning his head back towards the window. Adam barely caught the words.
Raising an eyebrow Adam turned to him, "Helping someone usually doesn't involve getting your ass almost killed." Adam sighed, pulling his feet off the table and burying his face in his hands. "Rey, you know how I feel about you doing things like this. After what happened to your mother..." Adam didn't finish the thought. The silence stretched, filled only by the distant traffic. "I just can't have that happen to you as well." The pain was evident in his voice as he finally sat up straight.
"You know I need to do this—I want to do this; I promised her; I promised him." Rey's voice was headstrong, but the guilt of hurting his father was clear in his eyes.
"Rey… you know I want to support you, but losing your mother was the worst thing that happened to me, and I don't know what I would do if I lost you too." Adam, his face still in his hands as he spoke softly, his voice cracking at points.
Rey stared. Stared at the back of his father's head, his jaw clenching as he felt the guilt wash over him. He hated that his father was using this; hated that he was right. The silence that followed Adam's admission was heavy, heavier than any weight Rey had taken with his Gift.
He tried to steady his breath, but the air hitched in his throat. "It's not fair," Rey strained, the words raw. "You want me to lock it away—to pretend the world isn't still broken, that people still don't suffer! You want me to be a civilian, like you!" The last phrase came out before he could stop it, and a clear look of hurt crossed Adam's face.
The muscles in his chest and back, exhausted from using his Gift, suddenly cramped. It was a lasting reminder of the price he had just paid, and the price he was still willing to pay. He surged to his feet, ignoring the spike of agony in his legs. He couldn't stand the sight of his father's pain.
Before his father could say anything, he turned on his heel and marched to his room. "Rey," Adam called quietly his hand outstretched. Rey stopped for a moment, standing in place before resuming to his room and slamming the door behind him.
Adam sat there, his hand slowly falling from where it had reached for Rey. He sank back heavily onto the couch, his face dejected as he stared up at the ceiling. "Maria, what would you do?" His voice quivered. He clenched his fists, a raw, desperate determination hardening his gaze: He had to ensure their son stayed safe. No matter the cost, he couldn't lose anyone else.
Rey lay on his bed, the adrenaline wearing off. The raw, muscular pain from the overload slowly returned. He sighed, pushing his hands through his hair as he closed his eyes. His mind plunged back to the single moment where it all began: the origin of his father's fear, his impossible dream, and Him.
10 years ago…
The sun was too bright on the walk. Six-year-old Rey should have been miserable but the smell of food, the lure of ice cream, and the warmth of his mother's hand kept him distracted. They had only been in New Liberty for three weeks, having moved recently so Maria could take up the Hero Agency contract.
Adam walked two steps behind them; hands tucked into his pockets. Though a gentle smile touched his face as he watched his wife and son laugh. He wasn't a Hero, his Gift didn't allow him to take on such a career, but the constant awareness of his wife's job—the constant, low-level anxiety that permeated the city named for "freedom"—always left him guarded.
Then came a sound, not a bang, but a deep, pressurized boom that rattled the streets and buildings. It was immediately followed by the distant shimmer of displaced air, a mile or two down the street.
Maria, in her agency-issued jacket—her hero uniform underneath, Rey knew—didn't hesitate. She knelt instantly, her golden piercing eyes wide but focused. She gently stroked the hair from Rey's forehead before pressing a fierce kiss to his temple.
"Adam. Take him"
Adam, having rushed to them, panic flooding his eyes as he took the boy. "Maria, no! Call your team, wait for backup, you can't go in there alone!"
Another explosion followed by another rang out before Maria could respond. She grabbed onto Adam's hands tightly, "I can't wait, honey. People are already hurt." She met Adam's gaze, her voice firm, cutting through the blaring sirens that were starting to ring throughout New Liberty. "Take care of him, Adam. Promise me."
She was fast, a bright streak of green and white sprinting towards the rising columns of black smoke, leaving Adam stumbling back, clutching Rey tightly to his chest.
Then the air shattered.
It wasn't just another explosion—it was sudden, violent implosion of reality itself. It felt like the world had gone quiet. A pressure wave, hot and wet, slammed into Adam as he instinctively turned shielding Rey as he was lifted off the ground before slamming into the hard walls of the candy store that Rey had been so eagerly looking at just moments before.
Rey's vision went white, the surroundings swimming around him, the sounds muffled with a constant ringing in his head. Above the ringing, the muffled voices, the crying, the pain. A different, new sound emerged: a high, sustained whine that seemed to tear the very air.
Through the watery veil of his tears, Rey saw him.
The silhouette of a person emerged from the dust, positioned on top of a flattened bus, looking less like a person and more like a nightmare ready to devour the entire world. His Gift allowed him to introduce kinetic energy into anything and then amplify it manifold, consuming anything in his way. He stretched out a hand; the air around the heavy statue in the center of the boulevard—a monument to the heroes of the Dark Age—didn't explode, it detonated from the inside out. An invisible force amplified its internal energy until the concrete erupted in a massive, localized blast. The shockwave was terrifying, but the resulting chaos—the lack of any controlled explosion—was worse.
That's when He came. A towering figure, a symbol of the peace the world had experienced, a herald of hope: Vanguard.
He emerged from the smoke, colossal, his suit dark and scarred, radiating raw authority. As he moved, the air itself seemed to settle; the dust and debris that littered the street now stood frozen mid-air, suddenly shackled by an invisible pressure.
Vanguard saw Adam, still clinging to Rey on the ground. He didn't speak. Instead, Rey felt a sudden, heaviness press down on his back and shoulders, followed by a stabilizing warmth that seemed to push the chaos away. Vanguard had used his Gravitational Field Manipulation Gift to carve out a pocket of stable space—a temporary shield for the trapped civilians.
"Hold on, Rey," Adam whispered, holding tightly onto Rey, but Rey couldn't look away from the battle.
Maria, moving at a speed that blurred her green and white uniform, was already in the periphery. She wasn't aiming to fight the villain head on; just distract him as Vanguard did his work. A blur of speed, using vibrations in her feet to send shockwaves beneath the villain's perch, forcing him to shift and disrupt his focus.
Vanguard took his shot. He slowly raised a hand, and the atmosphere around the villain visibly condensed. It wasn't a push; it was the entire weight of localized gravity pressing down, aiming to crush the rogue, putting an end to him. The street cracked, webbing out in every direction as the pressure from Vanguard's Gift grew.
The villain didn't panic. He just smiled, a chillingly calm expression that would haunt Rey years after it happened.
As Maria streaked past, completing a wide arc to disrupt the villain's side, he didn't lift a finger to attack her. Instead, he made a single, subtle gesture toward the asphalt directly beneath Maria's feet.
There was no sound, no flash of light, just the immediate and catastrophic effect. Maria's own amplified kinetic energy of her speed, the very force protecting her, was instantly turned against her. A single point of energy amplification—the villain's Kinetic Chain Reaction Gift—hit her spine.
Before she could reach the villain, the streak of green and white vanished. Maria, extinguished mid stride, hit the ground with a sickening thud. The energy she had been generating gone, only broken flesh and shattered pavement being left behind.
The temporary pocket of safety Vanguard had created, flickered and died from the sudden emotional distraction. Adam staggered forward, released from the pressure, and saw Maria's motionless form.
"Maria!" Adam screamed, a sound choked with pure horror. He tried to run to her—still clutching onto Rey—but the villain, unnervingly clam, cut him off.
The villain stretched his hand out, forcing a blast of amplified KE into the ground directly between Adam and Maria. Adam seeing what was coming shielded Rey hoping to at least protect him from his recklessness. Before the blast could reach them, Vanguard stepped in front of the pair, using his colossal frame and his Gift. He grunted with effort, but he absorbed the worst of the amplified kinetic explosion.
Adam fell, still shielding Rey with his body, but this time he couldn't get up. He was paralyzed, not by a Gift, but by the terror and pain of instant loss.
Vanguard stood over them, his colossal form a temporary bastion. The villain, not wasting any more time, launched himself at Vanguard, amplifying the kinetic energy in his own limbs. Vanguard, seeing the attack, reinforced the Gravitational Shield around Adam and Rey before confronting the villain.
Their fists clashed, a colossal shockwave spilling out as the ground shattered and the buildings rumbled. The villain grinned, his eyes manic as he laughed: he had done the impossible—matched a blow from Vanguard, the undisputed strongest man alive. Vanguard remained silent his dark helmet hiding his face, the only sign of his anger being the air warping around him. Before the villain could think, Vanguard threw another punch, stronger than the last, right into his stomach. Vanguard pushed, dumping a surge of gravitational force into his punch. The villain reeled, sent flying backward, and slammed into a nearby building, which imploded onto him.
Yet that barely slowed him. The villain emerged from the rubble, spitting blood onto the ground, relatively unscathed. "Is this all the strongest man has to offer? I thought this would be a challenge!" He yelled, his eyes crazed. "You couldn't even protect your own teammate!" His grin grew as he spoke.
Vanguard clenched his fists. He crouched low and launched himself right in front of the villain. The villain's maniacal grin was still etched onto his face, only his eyes having moved to meet Vanguard's.
"I decide who speaks." Vanguard's voice was calm, a quiet rage thrumming beneath it. He cocked his fist back and slammed it into the villain's face. But instead of flying back, the villain absorbed the colossal blow.
The villain slowly pushed Vanguard's fist away from his face with a single finger. "Awww, and here I thought you might finally give me a challenge after saying that." A sad, theatrical sigh replaced his maniacal grin.
Vanguard's calm demeanor shattered. The villain had shown he could amplify kinetic energy to perfectly counter any force Vanguard could muster. He saw the lifeless form of Maria, he saw Adam clutching their six-year-old son nearby. He knew he couldn't win this fight without risking the entire district. This would be his last move.
His dark helmet angled up towards the sky. The air, which had been merely warping around him, began to sing. A terrifying, deep hum resonated through the ground, forcing Adam to press Rey even tighter.
Vanguard wasn't just concentrating the gravity; he was hyper focusing it, pulling immense, crushing force from the surrounding atmosphere, concentrating it into a single, devastating sphere around him and the villain. This was his final move—one he never thought he would ever have to use—the Singularity Strike.
The villain's eyes went wide for the first time. He understood the danger. He raised both arms, bracing himself.
"You actually dare!" He screamed, panic rising in his voice as he thought through every possible way of escaping the inevitable.
Vanguard didn't hear him, he just closed his eyes before unleashing the Singularity Strike. The gravitational force absolute—a fist of compressed reality shaking the entirety of New Liberty. The villain's body began to deform under the impossible weight his bones audibly cracking.
But the villain med the force. He pushed his Gift to unprecedented levels amplifying his own internal KE to a self-destructive degree. He turned his own body into a massive, concentrated kinetic bomb, designed to explode the moment the Singularity Strike reached its peak.
The two forces—Absolute Gravity vs Absolute Amplification—collided.
For a second there was no sound; the pressure too immense for the air to carry noise. The entire area where the villain stood imploded. The surrounding buildings, already damaged, were instantaneously crushed into dust.
Vanguard was thrown back hundreds of feet, landing in a heep of mangled armor near the crushed candy store. The backlash had ripped his armor apart. He was broken—one arm was missing, one eye gone, and his body saturated with internal, uncontrollable gravitational force.
The rogue villain, shielded by his own suicidal detonation, was also destroyed—but alive. He dragged himself from the smoldering crater of the attack, only his upper half still part of him, before vanishing into the skyline, too damaged to continue the fight. "I'll be back Vanguard. And I'll make sure that this world knows fear again."
Back on the ground—
The trauma had passed. Adam, released from the gravity, found his feet and stumbled towards Maria's lifeless body—his hand still clutched onto Rey's. His muffled sobs were the only sound in the ruined street.
Rey watched his father, unable to move, unable to help. He had never seen his father like this before—break like this.
He turned his head to the other fallen hero. Vanguard was a ruin—torn metal, mangled flesh, and drying blood obscuring the massive cavity where his right eye should have been. Yet, through sheer will, he began to move. He didn't drag his body. Instead, he used his final reserves of Gift to subtly float his ruined form across the rubble until he was on his knees at eye level with the six-year-old boy.
He turned his one good eye to Rey, the dark, crimson red of his eye seemed to permeate into Rey's soul. "Don't look at the mess, kid. Look at the ground. That's where the fight is." He coughed, a terrible, wet sound. "It doesn't matter how powerful your Gift is. The ones who need you most… they look at the ground." Gathering his waning strength, Vanguard lifted a trembling hand and pointed a finger directly at Rey's heart. "Protect the ones you can reach. The ones right here."
Adam returned, clutching Rey's hand, carrying Maria's motionless body. Vanguard used a final surge of gravity to stand, towering over the grieving Adam. "I know my words cannot bring her back," he rasped, his voice tearing. "But I want to say that I'm sorry. I'm sorry I failed to protect her."
Adam remained silent, unable to speak. Vanguard turned his back to them and the ruined city. He didn't limp; he used his final energy to float away, disappearing in a faint shimmer of gravitational energy. Vanguard had fulfilled his duty one last time, disappearing from the world and leaving young Rey with only words he had left behind.
Rey gasped, his eyes flying open and fixed on the popcorn ceiling. He was back in his room, sweat slicking his body as he sat up on the edge of the bed, forcing himself to breathe slowly.
"Not again," he groaned, running a hand over his slick hair. He had been having these nightmares for years, going back to the source of his obsession: the beginning of his desire, and the origin of his father's fear.
He turned looking out the window. The sun had started to rise above the horizon, seeing that Rey turned back to his beside checking his alarm clock.
5:45 AM
Seeing that it wasn't long before he would have regularly woken up so he decided to get on with his regular schedule, getting ready for school.
After taking a shower and getting dressed Rey left his room and entered the kitchen, just to see that his father was already awake and making breakfast for both of them.
Rey moved to stand beside his father as Adam was pouring a glass of milk. Rey took the glass, but instead of drinking, he set it down on the counter, his eyes fixed on the counter as he mumbled, "I'm sorry." Adam looked up from the scrambled eggs he was cooking, his expression confused as Rey continued: "I didn't mean what I said yesterday… I was just frustrated, and it got the best of me."
Adam sighed, putting down his spatula. "No, Rey. I should be the one who's sorry." Rey looked up, confused. "I keep trying to hold you back—to smother your ambition—because of my own fear. Because of what happened to your mother. But last night taught me that holding you back won't save you. It will only push you away. If you're going to walk this path, then supporting you—being your anchor—is the only way I can keep you safe."
Adam pulled Rey into a tight hug. Rey was surprised for a moment but quickly returned the embrace, a genuine smile finally replacing the tension on his face. They finished breakfast in a quiet ease, the silence no longer heavy with confrontation, but peaceful.
A knock on the door broke the silence between them, causing them to look up and at the door. "That's probably Ezequiel coming to get you. You better get going now." Adam stood and gathered both his and Rey's plates from the counter, taking them to the kitchen.
Rey stood, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. Opening the door Rey saw Ezequiel standing outside the door, phone in hand as he scrolled through it. Rey sighed, then flicked Ezequiel's forehead. "Let's go, Ez. We can't be on our phones all day."
Ezequiel put his phone away as he caught up to Rey rubbing his forehead. "Was hitting me really necessary? You could've just said something," Ez muttered, rubbing his forehead before shoving his hands into his pockets.
"So, what did the old man say?" Ez asked, curiosity sparking in his eyes and a grin already on his face.
"He's finally letting me do what I want, but he's still hammering me about being safe."
"Hey! Now isn't that some good news!" Ez slapped Rey hard on the back, causing him to almost trip—clear payback for the forehead flick earlier.
Rey ignored it knowing arguing with Ezequiel would be useless. They talked some more on their way, mostly about whether Rey had done any of their homework (he hadn't).
By the time they reached their school, the visible urban decay had disappeared, replaced by the clean lines of recently rebuilt buildings.
They navigated the crowded halls and reached their classroom. A few students were already there, some talking, others sitting quietly at their desks.
At the back sat a girl with dusty brown hair, cut to a messy, layered mid-length that framed her face. Her natural feline ears, set high and pointed, matched the brown. Her eyes were a deep, luminous amber-gold, their pupils distinctively vertical like a cat's. A long, thick tail, the same dusty color, was tucked away under her chair as she waved them over.
They weaved through the occupied desks and settled into chairs near her.
"You're late," Elara stated flatly, not as a greeting, but as a fact, not looking up from the desk she was meticulously wiping clean.
"Barely," Rey countered, tossing his bag onto the floor beside the desk. "And if you used your eyes for scouting instead of cleaning, you'd know Ez was running late as well."
"I was late because you were slow getting ready after your pity party this morning," Ez shot back, collapsing into his chair. He turned to Elara. "Don't listen to him, El. He's just grumpy because he had to apologize to his dad again."
Elara finally looked up, her amber-gold eyes locking onto Rey's. The vertical pupils narrowed in judgment. "Apologizing is a good step, Rey. Admitting you're a liability is better."
Rey clenched his jaw. "I am not a liability. I saved a girl."
"You did," Elara conceded, leaning forward, her voice dropping to a low whisper that only they could hear. "And you nearly killed yourself doing it. The system is designed to reward control, not suicidal bursts of kinetic energy. Your Gift is a bomb waiting to go off, and you're the timer. And I also want you to be safe." The last part came out as a mutter with neither Ez nor Rey being able to catch it.
Ez quickly stepped in, waving a hand. "Okay, we're not doing this again. It's too early for existential dread. Did either of you check if that new hero ranking list is out yet?"
Elara ignored him, her gaze still fixed on Rey. "Forget homework, forget the Rankings. That's for idiots." She pointed to the massive, imposing Aegis Academy logo etched on her own well-worn textbook—a stark contrast to the book's used condition. "So. Are you two actually taking the Aegis Academy entrance exam next week, or are you chickening out?"
Ezequiel stiffened, his previous nonchalance dissolving. "I mean, yeah, I'm taking it. Photokinetic Structuring is Tier 2 in practical applications; I'd be wasting my potential not to. Plus, the uniform looks great." He gave a nervous grin.
Elara's focus remained solely on Rey. She knew the stakes were different for him, he wasn't like Ez.
"The test is different this year, Rey," Elara continued, her voice losing its teasing edge. "It's weighted heavily on restraint, coordination, and team dynamics. Not brute force. The HLB doesn't want another hero falling to the press for recklessness."
Rey looked away, tracing the scarred lines on his desk. The memory of Vanguards last words— "Protect the ones you can reach"—clashed with his father's fear and Elara's critiques.
"I'm taking it," Rey said, the statement quiet but final. He didn't offer a reason, knowing it was the only answer that mattered.
Elara let out a small, satisfied sound— a purr of approval. "Good. Then you'll need all the practice you can get. If you're going to use yourself as a kinetic shield, you might as well at least have someone who can see the hit coming."
Elara's approval was less of a compliment and more a sentence to perpetual exhaustion. For the next five days, Rey's afternoons were a grueling cycle of physical conditioning and strategic drills run by the two people who knew his Gift's limits best.
Their training grounds were the discarded ruins of New Liberty's forgotten districts, the crumbling facades of abandoned warehouses or wide, derelict rooftops where the wind screamed louder than the sirens.
Elara was the undisputed coach. She used her Gift to its full potential, becoming a lightning-fast nuisance. Her goal wasn't to hurt Rey, but to condition him out of his single reckless impulse to absorb the entire hit.
"Too much!" Elara would yell, her dusty brown tail twitching in frustration as she blurred past him. "You don't need to stop the stop the whole truck, Rey! Just change the angle! Your Gift is defense, not deletion!"
In one drill, Elara, utilizing her padded feet for stealth, would suddenly appear from a blind spot. Rey was forced to absorb the energy from her rapid strikes with only his forearm. If he absorbed too much, the vein on his arm would immediately swell with uncontrolled energy, drawing a sharp, pained hiss from him. If he absorbed too little, her strike would connect, throwing him off balance.
Ez was their anchor. His Photokinetic Structuring Gift made him an invaluable support member.
"Here!" Ez would call out, his hands glowing with that soft, golden luminescence. He wasn't projecting an offensive attack, but precise, stable light constructs on the crumbling walls, giving Elara impossible angles of approach. When Rey inevitably slipped and risked injury, Ez would project a fleeting, dense light net to cushion the blow, forcing him back up to try again.
"You waste more power stopping yourself than fighting the target, Rey." Ez admonished him one afternoon, pulling Rey up from a failed landing near a twenty-foot drop. "Think smaller! You're trying to stop a country with every move. Just stop me!"
Rey hated it. He hated the precision, the focus, and the way the strategic logic of Elara and Ez tore apart the simple, idealistic memory of Vanguard's raw sacrifice.
"Vanguard didn't worry about angles!" Rey shouted one evening, pushing his saturated muscles past their limit. "He just stood there!"
"And where is he now, Rey?" Elara responded flatly, her eyes holding no pity. "He disappeared. This world doesn't reward just standing there—it rewards surviving."
Despite the constant friction, the training worked. Rey began to learn to use his Gift in infinitesimal bursts, storing only enough kinetic energy to redirect his own momentum, allowing him to jump farther or run faster, rather than just counter-punching. By Friday afternoon, the familiar ache from his daily overloads felt less like a failure and more like measure of controlled exertion.
The night before the Aegis Academy entrance exam felt impossibly heavy.
Rey lay on his bed, his muscles loose from the temporary healing Ez had provided, but his mind was racing. He replayed the vanguard Flashback, not for inspiration, but to dissect the flaw: Vanguard's strength had been used for a colossal, final explosion, leaving nothing left for the subsequent defense. He ran a hand over his tired face. If he failed the exam, he was destined for a civilian life—a life Adam desperately wanted for him.
The door creaked open. Adam stood there, not in his usual apron, but in a pressed shirt, looking composed and heartbreakingly fragile.
"Hey," Adam said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed. He didn't lecture. He just studied Rey's face. "Your mother's old agency jacket. The one she wore that day? I threw it away years ago. It hurt too much to look at."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, faded circular patch embroidered with a simple shield. It was worn thin, but pristine.
"But I kept this," Adam continued, his voice barely a whisper. "It was the badge patch from her jacket collar. She said it was proof that she tried. That's all the HLB or the GHR should ever ask." He pressed the patch into Rey's hand. "Go take the exam, son. Be the hero you need to be—the hero she would have wanted you to be. Just remember who your anchor is."
Rey looked at the patch, feeling the rough threads of Maria's legacy against his skin. He knew the only way to protect Adam was to succeed.
The next morning, the trio stood at the border of their decaying district, gazing up at the true seat of power in New Liberty. The Aegis Academy was less a school and more a fortress—massive white stone gleaming towers, and high walls that looked like they were forged by Vanguard himself.
Ez, dressed impeccably, bounced on the balls of his feet, light glancing off his bright blond hair. "Ready, guys? This is it. Our ticket out of the lower tiers. Hello, Tier 2 Hero life!"
Elara, wearing black cargo pants and a simple black sports bra, gave Rey a final, hard assessment. "Remember the drills, Rey. Control. Don't try to be Vanguard. Be better."
They walked through the gates. The courtyard was teeming with elite aspirants, Gifted students from all over the country—some exhibiting subtle Gifts, others emanating palpable energy. The pressure was immense.
The three stopped before the colossal, steel double-doors leading into the testing facility. Above the doors, an illuminated sign flashed the code for the practical exam. Rey looked down at the small, faded shield patch he clutched in his hand. He took one last, deep breath, remembering the cold alley floor, the crimson eye of his hero, and the unwavering conviction in his father's final gaze.
The colossal steel doors of the Aegis Academy's testing facility began to slide open, revealing a shadowed, vast interior.
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A/N:
Hey! Hope you enjoyed the first chapter of the novel. If you have any thoughts do share them in the comments.
I'll try to get chapters out every couple days, but I can't guarantee anything.