(Ash POV)
The city was eerily quiet as I walked home that evening, my mind still spinning from the fights at Midtown. The adrenaline from the drone attack had faded, leaving a hollow ache in my muscles. My thoughts raced. I had made my choice. I wanted to be a hero. But what did that even mean? How far would I go?
And then the scream cut through the quiet.
Sharp. Terrified. Human.
Instinct instantly snapped my focus. I spun toward the sound, scanning the nearby streets. A bank, just two blocks down, was under attack. Glass shattered. Red lights flashed. People ran in panic, some trapped behind overturned cars or inside the building.
This is it.
My heart thudded. The morpher in my bag pulsed violently, a bright, insistent thrum. The Grid inside me hummed louder than it ever had before, as if sensing the danger, guiding me.
Without thinking, I sprinted toward the bank. My legs carried me faster than any human could track—every step precise, my body perfectly in sync with the enhanced reflexes and strength TGOB had gifted me. The closer I got, the more I realized the scale of the chaos.
Inside, masked robbers wielded guns and strange-looking energy weapons. Hostages huddled on the ground, terrified. I could see familiar faces—passersby I had glimpsed at school earlier, employees I recognized from local news. My chest tightened. These people… they weren't just strangers. They were lives I could save.
I dropped my bag and yanked out the morpher. The metallic device gleamed under the streetlights. My hand trembled slightly, but the Grid inside me whispered, This is right.
I closed my eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and shouted:
"It's morphin' time!"
Light exploded around me. A blinding cascade of gold, silver, and black enveloped my body, burning hotter than anything I had ever felt. My muscles tensed, expanding with energy. The world around me warped and flickered as the Grid's power fused with the morpher, shaping me into something new.
When the light subsided, I stood armored, spear in hand. The suit shimmered: gold where Red SMF was red, silver where gold was, black unchanged, and the emblem glowing a fierce red. The power humming in my veins was intoxicating. My heart pounded. My senses sharpened. The city no longer felt overwhelming—it felt alive.
I leapt forward.
The first robber turned toward me, shocked. Before he could fire, I vaulted over a car, landing behind him, and swung my spear. Sparks flew as the blade struck his weapon, disarming him. He stumbled backward, and I grabbed him by the collar, dragging him away from a panicked group of hostages.
Another robber advanced on a frightened employee. I sidestepped, thrusting my spear forward to knock him off balance. My reflexes moved faster than my thoughts. Each motion was precise, controlled, almost choreographed. I had never felt this alive.
I glanced at the hostages—MJ and Peter were inside, eyes wide as they realized someone was intervening. Relief flashed across MJ's face when she recognized me. Peter's expression was a mix of awe and worry. My chest warmed at their trust.
A blast from an energy weapon shattered a nearby wall. Debris flew. I rolled, speared a loose pipe to block another attack, then kicked a robber away from a trapped civilian. My mind raced through tactics, movement, and protection instinctively. The Grid was guiding me, but the choice… the choice to act… that was mine.
I kept moving, saving, shielding, disarming. Each time someone was pulled to safety, each time I prevented a life from being taken, a thrill surged through me. I was doing it. I was a hero.
Finally, the last robber attempted to flee with hostages. I spun, sprinted, and thrust the spear between the two hostages and him. Sparks flew. He froze, realizing he was outmatched. I grabbed him, immobilizing him until the authorities arrived.
The police and emergency services stormed the scene moments later, guns raised, but I stepped back, letting them take control. The hostages were safe. Everyone I could save… was saved.
I stood in the aftermath, chest heaving, spear in hand, armor scratched and smoking from debris. The city lights reflected off my suit, and I felt a grin spreading across my face.
I had made my choice.
I was no longer just Ash Oliver.
I was a hero.
The first morph wasn't just a transformation of my body—it was a transformation of my purpose.
And as I looked around at the grateful faces, the chaos now under control, and the distant sirens of Midtown, I realized: this was only the beginning.
The streets were alive. The city was dangerous. And I… was ready.