The dorm felt too small for three people carrying a world-breaking secret.
Cyrus sat on the edge of his bed, elbows on his knees, staring at his hands like he'd stolen fire from the gods and didn't know where to return it.
Ethan paced back and forth, restless like a storm trapped in a human body. His BloodSpark simmered beneath his skin, eyes sharp, breath quick.
Kaito stood still, back against the wall, arms folded, expression unreadable—already analyzing every variable.
No one spoke.
Finally Ethan cracked.
"Bro—" He pointed at Cyrus like accusing him of a crime. "Do that again."."
Cyrus frowned. "I'm not performing like some—"
"Do it again," Ethan insisted, pointing at a stapler on the desk. "Because that thing floated. And if it floats again, we're officially in an anime."
Kaito cut in calmly. "Repeatability proves the rule. We need data."
Cyrus sighed, lifted his hand, focused.
The stapler rattled.
Ethan stopped pacing.
It lifted—
wobbly, trembling—
but lifted.
Held there for a breath.
Dropped.
Ethan just stood there, eyes huge. "…Bro. What the fu—"
Kaito's eyes sharpened like he'd just discovered a new branch of physics. "So it's triggered by deliberate focus, but your emotional state amplifies it."
Ethan shook his head, grinning like a man who just met a superhero. "My best friend has telekinesis. I don't care what happens—this is peak life."
Cyrus didn't share the excitement.
His stomach twisted.
His breath uneven.
"I didn't ask for this," he muttered.
Kaito pushed off the wall. "Doesn't matter. You have it. So we need to understand it before someone else does."
A siren wailed outside.
That same government one.
Sharp. Urgent. Wrong.
Ethan rushed to the window. "More trucks today… damn, they're pulling people out of lines."
Cyrus joined him.
Black armored vans.
Agents scanning crowds.
City lockdown tightening like a fist.
Kaito's voice dropped to a whisper. "They know abilities are emerging."
Ethan looked at Cyrus, eyes blazing. "Hey. If they come for you, they go through us first. I'm not letting you get dragged into some lab."
Kaito nodded once. "We survive by being smart. We plan. We hide your ability until we understand the field."
Cyrus stared at them both—
his brother in adrenaline
and his brother in strategy
—feeling the fear lighten just a little.
He wasn't alone in this mess.
And that made all the difference.
Night swallowed the city, but the streets of East Ward were alive in all the wrong ways—sirens fading, helicopters circling, agents hunting metas like wolves.
Cyrus, Kaito, and Ethan slipped through an alley behind the dorms, moving fast but low. None of them said it out loud, but they were running because they needed space—a place where Cyrus could test his power without triggering scanners.
Ethan led the way, adrenaline humming under his skin like electricity.
Kaito walked silent, eyes sharp, already reading shadows as terrain.
Cyrus stayed in the middle, hands shoved in his pockets, feeling the weight of invisible gravity tugging at him.
They stopped near an abandoned basketball court burned out from some old riot.
Ethan exhaled. "Finally. Space."
Cyrus frowned. "I don't know if I can control it yet."
"You won't know until you try," Kaito said without judgment. He stepped back, hands behind his back like a scientist observing a dangerous specimen.
Cyrus smirked. "Thanks for the comforting vibe."
Before Kaito could respond, a whistle cut the air.
The three turned.
Five street punks stepped through the broken fence—hoodies, pipes, and the kind of confidence that only comes from not knowing how outmatched you are.
The leader spat, "This court's ours. Get lost."
Ethan cracked his neck, already stepping forward. "Perfect timing."
Cyrus grabbed his arm. "We're not starting a fight."
"We're not," Kaito murmured, stepping between them. "But they are."
The punks surrounded them.
One swung a pipe at Ethan.
Ethan didn't dodge—he caught it with one hand. The metal bent slightly under his grip.
The punk's face drained.
"What the—?!"
Ethan grinned. "I work out."
But Kaito lifted a hand slightly.
And everything changed.
The punks froze.
Not because they wanted to.
Because suddenly, they weren't looking at three students.
They were looking at—
Cyrus. Glowing eyes. Telekinetic aura ripping cracks in the ground.
A monster. A myth. A threat far beyond reason.
Illusion.
Cyrus blinked, startled by his own impossible appearance. "Kaito—what the hell?"
Kaito's voice stayed cool. "Don't move. They need to believe you're unstoppable."
One punk dropped his pipe and backed up. "Bro, bro, that dude—he's floating—he's actually—"
He wasn't.
But the illusion said otherwise.
Cyrus lifted his hand automatically, unsure if he was supposed to act or just pose.
Kaito whispered, "Give them a little truth with the lie."
Cyrus swallowed and focused.
A trash can behind the punks lifted—
wobbling but real—
and slammed onto the concrete.
They screamed.
They ran.
All five bolted through the fence like rats escaping fire.
Silence returned.
Ethan burst out laughing. "BRO. Did you see their faces?! You looked like you were about to Thanos-snap them!"
Cyrus stared at his hand. "I didn't plan any of that."
Kaito stepped beside him, expression unreadable but satisfied. "You don't need to plan everything. That's why I'm here."
Ethan wrapped his arms around both of them in a chokehold of a hug.
"That's it. We're officially a squad. A scary one."
Cyrus exhaled, a rare smile tugging at his mouth.
For the first time since the Pulse—
he wasn't scared of his power.
Not when he had them.
Kaito turned slightly, voice low.
pointed his finger towards the cyrus, and said
"we are the truth and the lie working hand-in-hand."
Cyrus didn't fully understand it yet.
But one day?
The world would.