August 7th, 2015 — Friday — Reginald Vel Johnson High School — 11:22 AM
The classroom was packed. Around thirty students squeezed into rows of desks that creaked with every shift. The math teacher wrote on the board with a nearly-dry marker, sketching polynomials like anyone cared besides him.
Mark sat in the desk directly in front of Kai, scribbling tidy notes — the model student he pretended to be.
Kai sat near the window, tapping his pen against the notebook—disjointed rhythm, no melody. No sunglasses today — his headaches had eased for the first time in hours. But Viktor hadn't.
He lounged in the empty chair next to him, propping his chin on one hand, legs stretched out like he owned the place.
Which technically, he did — since he lived inside Kai's head.
Across the room, Eve sat on the opposite side — red hair tied up, perfect posture, eyes drifting again and again toward their side of the class. Not at him specifically. At him and Mark. Back and forth. Like she was trying to solve an equation missing key variables.
"She's looking again," Viktor said, his voice dripping amusement.
Kai kept his eyes on the board, muttering, but the sound only came out in his head; no sound came from his lips. "I know."
"What are the odds she makes some innocent comment that makes Mark find out you were Grey?" Viktor tilted his head, smiling slowly. "Just picture it."
Kai remained silent.
"She doesn't know Mark yet. But she will. Same school, same class. And then she goes, 'Oh, Mark, your brother was that masked hero I met once.' Boom. Secret identity gone."
Viktor leaned back in the nonexistent chair, eyes locked on Kai, waiting for any crack in his composure.
"I'll talk to her," Kai murmured. "When Mark isn't around."
Viktor laughed — loud, genuine, the kind of laugh that existed only inside Kai's mind.
"Man, this is going to be fun."
The bell rang, signaling lunch break.
Chairs scraped. Students rose like a tidal wave, flooding toward the door in a chaotic mass.
Kai stayed seated for a moment longer, staring at nothing in particular.
"Kai?" Mark called, approaching with his backpack slung over one shoulder. "I'm heading over to Art's. I'm gonna tell him the name I picked. Wanna come? We can get back before break's over."
"I still haven't chosen a name. Go ahead. If I think of something, I'll tell you." Kai leaned back in his chair, almost bored. "Just tell him anything black works for me. What name did you pick?"
Mark stepped in closer, lowering his voice like he was sharing a state secret.
"I'm going with Invincible."
Kai raised an eyebrow, the hint of a smile forming. "Little optimistic, isn't it?"
Mark spread his arms, confident grin widening. "Except for you and Dad, it's probably true."
Kai didn't answer — just exhaled lightly, amused.
Invincible.
The name fit Mark better than he'd admit.
Mark shrugged and walked out.
Kai got up, scanning the room until he found her.
Eve was leaving through the door alone.
He followed.
He caught up to her in one of the side hallways heading toward the cafeteria. The hum of distant voices echoed down the walls, but here the corridor was empty — just the two of them and their footsteps on polished floor.
Kai quickened his pace. Stopped two steps ahead of her.
"Hey."
Eve blinked — surprised for half a second — then smiled. "Hey."
Silence hung between them, filled only by the faint noise of cafeteria chaos in the distance.
Until Kai spoke, simple and direct. "Thanks for helping Cosmic that day. He said you were the one who helped stop me when I lost control."
Her eyes widened. "So... you recognized me too."
They held each other's gaze for a moment.
"It's fine," Eve said, then smirking — lightly teasing, like testing boundaries. "If you want to thank me, you can buy my lunch."
Kai gave her a half-smile, barely visible. "Consider it done."
They walked side by side toward the cafeteria. Kai grabbed a tray first, Eve just behind, the two blending into the slow-moving line.
While choosing between reheated pasta and a sandwich, she spoke casually.
"I didn't know you had a brother. Does he have powers like you?"
Kai paused mid-reach, turning slightly toward her.
"Look… that's actually why I wanted to talk to you. He doesn't know I was Grey, and I'd like to keep it that way. Okay?"
She nodded slowly, studying him with her sharp eyes.
After grabbing their food, they sat near the windows where filtered light fell across the table. All around them, the cafeteria buzzed with overlapping conversations, trays clattering, constant notification pings and the smell of pizza mixed with boxed juice.
"So that's why you talked to me?" Eve asked, raising a brow with a brief smile. "I thought you came to say thank you."
"Very funny," Kai replied dryly.
Eve laughed, soft and genuine. Then asked, "What's his name? You two look really alike."
"Mark," Kai answered, picking up his fork.
"Mark," she repeated, as if testing how the name fit. "You know… I think I met him already."
"You did?" Kai didn't blink.
"Yeah." She watched his face with clinical precision. "I always thought you were familiar with this boy I met a few times. I thought it was you. But today it clicked. It was him."
Kai ate quietly, not confirming, not denying.
"Relax," Eve said, turning back to her food. "I'm not telling him anything about 'Grey.'"
Kai acknowledged it with a casual nod.
She leaned slightly forward, eyes curious. "So what now? You gonna pick a new name?"
"Honestly, I didn't want to be a hero anymore." Kai paused, then shrugged. "But it's not really up to me, is it? So yeah… I need a new name."
Eve frowned. "I think I get it. After everything with your team. That heroine, Silver — you two were together, and she quit too, right?"
The silence thickened. Kai's eyes shifted briefly before he answered.
"Yeah."
Eve noticed — and didn't push further.
They ate in an easy rhythm. Short conversations between bites, both wrapped in the same subtle irony that polished, not cut.
When the cafeteria began to empty, Eve slid her tray aside and stood.
"I have to stop by the lab," she said, a sarcastic smile tugging her lips. "Thanks for lunch, Gray—son."
Kai narrowed his eyes. "Good to know my name sticks. Yours does too…" he said as he stood, "but it feels like something's missing before 'Eve.'"
Their playful tone sharpened and softened at once — like a friendly sparring match without real strikes.
She smiled knowingly. "See you later. Good luck choosing a name. Try finding a word that means something to you."
Kai answered simply. "Later."
She disappeared into the corridor flow.Kai stood still for a moment — until Viktor let out a low whistle.
"I like her," the phantom said, amused. "Looks like Grey's secret survives another day."
Kai dropped his tray, ignored Viktor's commentary, crossed the lobby, and climbed the stairs. Before entering the classroom, he glanced through the narrow window — Mark still wasn't back. The whiteboard sat blank, waiting for another irrelevant subject.
He walked in and sat, well before the bell.
A word that means something…
He closed his eyes for a moment, searching for anything he could use besides Grey… but nothing felt meaningful.
Later that day — August 7th, 2015 — Friday — Twins' Bedroom — 11:42 PM
The room was dim, lit only by the yellow glow of a streetlamp slipping through the half-open window. The night breeze drifted in, nudging the thin curtain. Chicago lay quiet outside — or as quiet as a city at eleven could ever be.
Mark stood by the window in the same improvised getup as before: orange shirt, yellow bandana tied over nose and mouth. No visor this time. He looked more like a kid hero from a Saturday morning cartoon than an actual vigilante.
Kai stood near his bed, arms crossed, watching his brother with the expression of someone who knew exactly where this was going.
"Dude, it's just one patrol," Mark said, shoving the window open a bit harder than necessary. The latch groaned. Glass tapped the frame.
Kai pressed two fingers to his temple. "You look ridiculous. That's clearly pajamas." He sighed. "Dad said he'd talk to us tomorrow. Why not wait for the uniforms?"
Mark adjusted the cloth on his face, frowning. "Come on, man. I need to train. You've already got everything under control. I don't." He pointed outside. "Tomorrow's my day off. If you don't come, I'm going alone."
Kai stood there for a moment. Then he opened the drawer beside his bed and pulled out an old bandana — black, patterned with faded white skulls. He held the worn fabric between his fingers like he was considering a mistake.
"Yes!" Mark beamed beneath the yellow cloth. Before Kai could object, he shot through the window — straight up, vanishing into the darkness.
Kai tied the bandana over his face, covering nose and mouth.
Looked outside.
Mark floated high above, outlined against distant city lights, waiting.
Kai shook his head.
And flew after him.
Minutes later — Chicago Skies — 11:51 PM
Wind cut against their faces, tasting like pollution and distant exhaust. The city sprawled beneath them as a sea of lights — windows glowing, traffic sliding in thin lines, streetlamps flickering in predictable intervals. Far below, the city murmured: faint horns, distant sirens, the constant hum of a metropolis that never slept.
Mark stopped mid-air. Kai halted beside him, adjusting his mask.
Mark pointed down — at a massive toy and electronics store spanning nearly an entire block. Neon signs flickered above dark windows. Movement inside — too large to be human.
"Someone's robbing the place," Mark said, voice muffled by fabric. "Let's go!"
Kai squinted toward the store.
"You've gotta be kidding." He muttered under his breath. "We were supposed to take a short flight and go home."
But Mark was already descending.
Kai sighed.
And dove after him.
Parking Lot — 11:54 PM
It was dark. The orange streetlights died a few meters away, swallowed by the empty lot. Nothing moved—except a single hulking figure hauling something enormous. The metal loading door had been bent upward, ripped from its hinges like crumpled foil.
And there he was, walking casually toward a truck:A Mauler Twin.
Two and a half meters of pure muscle, black-and-white uniform stretched tight, scarred face under a permanent scowl. Carrying a massive crate on his shoulder—easily two hundred kilos of electronics—like it weighed nothing at all. Like it was a grocery bag.
Mark shot forward.
WOOOOSH!
"Are you seriously stealing video games?" Mark asked mid-flight, disbelief dripping from his voice.
The Mauler turned.
His eyes narrowed.
He shifted the crate to one hand—and slapped him.
A wide, open-handed, effortless slap.
POW!
The crack echoed across the lot like a gunshot.
Mark flew backwards—ten meters—before smashing into the concrete, carving a dent into the pavement. His makeshift mask flew from his face, the yellow cloth fluttering through the air before landing nearby.
Mark blinked, surprised but unhurt. He touched his cheek. No break. No bruise. No blood.Just… the impact.
He stood, brushing dust off his shirt.
Up above, Kai shook his head slowly—reproach and mockery blending into one gesture.
"That was a great idea," Kai said, dry and cutting. "Let's yell and announce ourselves before throwing a punch."
Mark muttered something half-word, half-curse, because he knew he screwed up.
The Mauler outside set the crate down and turned to them, crossing his massive arms. He smiled—because he was enjoying this.
"Isn't it past your bedtime, boys?"
Mark inhaled sharply, ready to charge. "Actually, yeah, it is!"
Before he could take a single step, the bent loading door creaked.
And another Mauler walked out.
Identical. Same face. Same stance. Carrying another huge crate.
He looked around—the truck, the destroyed pavement, his twin, the two kids.
"What's all this noise out here?" he asked, dropping the crate with a heavy BOOM.
Mark groaned, pointing at the twins. "Dad took these guys down at the White House less than a week ago and they're already back."
Kai and Mark exchanged a look. The Mauler Twins exchanged a look.
In some funny way, both sets of twins thought the same thing.
Kai raised a brow, a half-smile forming beneath the black bandana. "Twin versus twin?" He tilted his head, teasing. "Whoever finishes first wins?"
Mark smirked, adjusting his stance as he clenched his fists. "You're on."
Both Maulers charged.
No warning. No hesitation.
Mark darted left, Kai darted right—instinctively splitting the field.
The left Mauler barreled toward Mark, each footstep cracking the asphalt. Mark adjusted mid-air, pulling into a defensive posture he'd watched his father use thousands of times.
On the other side, the second Mauler lunged at Kai.
But Kai didn't retreat.
He descended.
Fast.
The Mauler swung wide—a wall-breaking punch meant to tear through anything in its path.
Kai slipped past it. His body twisted sideways, the Mauler's fist slicing through empty air where Kai had been half a second earlier. The wind from the miss snapped the fabric of Kai's mask.
The Mauler recovered fast—spinning with a heavy right hook.
Kai ducked.
The punch skimmed over his head—close enough to rip his mask off if he had been a centimeter taller.
Kai moved like a shadow. He had something Mark didn't yet: technique. Cassie's lessons in footwork. Actual combat experience. Reflexes that, even without blue eyes, never forgave a mistake.
He planted his foot.
And countered.
A punch to the gut.
The Mauler grunted, stumbling half a step.
A punch to the jaw.
His head snapped sideways, spit flying.
A knee to the chest.
THUD.
The impact boomed like a drum. The Mauler folded forward, the air leaving his lungs in a harsh groan.
Kai spun, building momentum, and landed a sideways kick to the ribs.
CRACK.
Bone gave way.
The Mauler staggered back, arms barely rising to defend.
Kai was already in front of him.
He grabbed the Mauler's wrist with both hands—left hand on fist, right on forearm—and pulled. Twisted. Shifted weight. Used momentum.
And threw him into the ground.
Straight down.
As if he were hammering a nail.
BOOOOOM!
Concrete erupted. Fractures webbed outward. Debris flew. Dust billowed into a thick cloud. The Mauler's body sank into the crater—face down, back arched, arms splayed.
Kai landed softly. Walked over.
And sat on the Mauler's back.
Like it was a chair.
Arms crossed. Head tilted slightly as he looked across the lot toward Mark.
"All done."
Across the parking lot—
Mark blocked a punch, the shock rattling his bones and throwing him three meters back. He steadied himself mid-air, jaw clenched.
The Mauler charged again—methodical, relentless.
Mark flew sideways, circling for an opening.
The Mauler spun and blocked in one fluid motion.
THUD.
He followed up—fast.
Mark blocked. Dodged a hook. Backed up. Advanced. Exchanged hits—he was landing more blows, but each of his movements lagged by a fraction.
From the other side, still sitting atop his "chair," Kai watched. Unhurried.
"Are you just using your arms?" Kai yelled, dripping sarcasm. "Use your whole body. Hip, shoulder. Like Dad showed."
Mark grumbled while dodging another punch. "I'm… trying!"
"Try faster," Kai replied, adjusting his sitting position on the collapsed Mauler.
The Mauler smirked—crooked teeth, brute confidence. "Listen to your little brother, kid. Or I'll beat you all night."
Mark grit his teeth.
Inhaled.
Hip. Shoulder. Whole body.
He planted his foot, twisted his torso, and threw a punch—not with his arm, but with every part of him aligned behind it.
POW!
It slammed into the Mauler's gut.
The clone flew backward, breathless, stunned.
Mark grinned. "I got him!"
Kai shook his head slowly. "Don't celebrate yet. He's getting up. Use him to train—control your strength and make this last."
As if responding on cue, the Mauler sucked in air, furious now, and charged again—faster, harder.
Mark blocked. Dodged. Countered.
Their blows shook the asphalt.Each exchange sharper than the last.
Mark was improving. Learning. Adjusting.
Kai observed in silence, legs crossed atop his unconscious Mauler. Occasionally—
"Left foot farther back."
"Don't let him corner you."
"Now. Hit now."
Mark obeyed—instinctively. And the fight shifted.
The Mauler started losing ground.
These brats are toying with me?!
Mark pressed forward—confidence building.
He shot another punch—caught the Mauler's jaw.
The Mauler staggered.
Mark flew up for the finishing strike.
But—
BOOOOM!
An explosion.
A burst of fire erupted between Mark and the Mauler—orange and red flames swallowing the air, the heat slamming them both back. Mark tumbled through the sky before crashing into a stack of cardboard boxes and dropping to one knee. The Mauler was thrown in the opposite direction, rolling until slamming into the loading bay wall.
Smoke rose.The metallic scent of burnt wiring filled the air.
Kai stood from his "chair," eyes narrowing, muscles tightening.
"What the hell was that?"
A voice answered from above.
"Oh, that was just confetti. You don't wanna see what I do with a golf ball…"
Kai looked up.
A hovering vehicle—half motorcycle, half combat platform—descended into the lot. Sleek, aerodynamic, anti-grav engines humming low. Robot was at the controls. Rex Splode lounged in a side seat, arms crossed, wearing a smug grin. Dupli-Kate sat on the right seat, black straight hair whipping in the wind.
And flying beside the bike, wrapped in neon-pink energy, was Atom Eve.
Kai stopped. Recognized nearly all of them instantly.
Rex leaned forward, scanning the wrecked asphalt, the downed Maulers. "So, who started the fight?"
The vehicle lowered near the Mauler who'd been thrown by the explosion.
And then—
The Mauler stood.
Without warning.
He grabbed the side of the vehicle with both hands—his thick fingers sinking into metal like it was aluminum foil.
"I'll give you a hint who started it!" he roared.
And he threw the bike.
WHOOOOSH!
Robot, Rex, and Dupli-Kate went flying—screaming, flailing for anything to grab—arcing across the parking lot until they crashed on the far side with a violent CRASH. Metal scraping concrete. Glass shattering. Smoke rising.
Kai crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Another one announcing his arrival." He glanced at Mark. "You're as flashy as he is."
Mark exhaled sharply, raising his stance. "Come on, man. I learned already."
Across the lot—
Rex was the first to stand, shaking off debris. "Ah, shit…"
Robot rose next, mechanical eyes glowing as he scanned everything. "Great job, Rex. We had the element of surprise…"
Rex shrugged. "Sorry, Robot. Seemed like a good idea at the time."
Robot's eyes glowed brighter. "Well, leave the good ideas to me, okay?"
Dupli-Kate stood, wiping her lip. "He's right, Rex. You always do this."
Rex opened his mouth to reply—
But the ground trembled.
The Mauler charged—heavy steps cracking asphalt, fists clenched, violent grin stretching across his face.
Robot spun, eyes scanning rapidly. "We're going to need another idea. Quickly."
The Mauler raised an arm.
And Mark intercepted.
He shot across the lot—low, fast—planted his foot mid-air as if on solid ground, twisted his entire body, and punched the Mauler square in the jaw.
POOOOOW!
Thunder.
The Mauler lifted off the ground from the force—literally launched backward—smashed into the concrete, slid five meters, and stopped. Motionless. Unconscious this time.
Mark landed slowly, fists still tight.
Kai landed beside him and placed a hand on his shoulder. "That one was good." He nodded, genuinely. "You improved a lot tonight."
Mark looked at him, smiling. "Thanks, man."
Atom Eve touched down a few steps ahead, pink light fading off her skin like neon smoke. Her eyes moved from Mark—unmasked—to Kai. Even with the bandana, she recognized him instantly.
Robot walked over, mechanical eyes analyzing.
"Good work, both of you." He paused. "Seems we weren't needed after all."
His eyes flickered—red, then blue, then green. Scanning.
Facial Analysis: 91% similarity. Conclusion: Siblings. High probability: Twins.
Subject A: Dark hair. Estimated height: 5'11" - 6'0". Build: Athletic, proportional.
Subject B: White hair. Estimated height: 6'0" - 6'1". Build: More muscular. Face covered by makeshift cloth. Facial features: Sharper contour, angular jaw, features display above-average symmetry.
Powers observed: Super strength, flight, superhuman speed. Data compatibility: Matches Grey. Discrepancy: Eye color.
Kai noticed him staring and tilted his head, mocking. "Want us to spin around so you can take better measurements?"
Robot turned away—eyes returning to their default green. "Apologies. Force of habit."
A panel in his arm opened. A holographic screen lit up. His metal fingers typed rapidly. "I'll summon another vehicle remotely." He glanced at Dupli-Kate. "Kate, handle the Maulers."
She nodded, splitting—three copies emerging and walking toward the downed clones.
Eve stepped closer, eyes gliding between Kai and Mark. A smile formed. "Nice outfits, you two."
Kai glared at Mark—the unmistakable this is your fault stare.
Mark raised his hands defensively. "These are temporary. Our suits aren't finished yet."
Eve laughed—light and genuine. Her eyes stayed on Mark. "Right."
Mark squinted slightly. "You look familiar. Have I seen you somewhere?"
Of course she was familiar—they were in class together.But that's not what she understood.
A memory resurfaced—of the boy who had appeared and disappeared in her past. Kind. Quick. Always there when she needed him. And then gone.Mark.
She smiled…but said nothing.
Kai stood silently beside them, letting the moment unfold.
Engine hum returned.
A larger hover-bike arrived—heavier, with a cargo platform. Three Dupli-Kates piloted it, the two unconscious Maulers tossed in the back like sacks of cement.
Rex waved from the original bike. "Hey, gorgeous! Let's go!"
Eve gave Kai a small nod—respectful. Then waved again at Mark before taking Rex's hand and climbing onto the bike.
Robot turned to the brothers. "Well, our ride is here. I suppose introductions are in order."
He gestured. "We're the Teen Team. I'm Robot. You've met Atom Eve. That's Rex Splode, and Dupli-Kate completes the team."He tilted his head. "And you two are?"
Mark glanced at Kai, then at Robot. Inhaled.
"My name is Invincible."
Kai shrugged, hands in his pockets. "I don't have a hero name."
Robot nodded respectfully, then boarded the bike—engines flaring. The machine lifted into the air.
Mark jogged forward, shouting, "Nice meeting you!"
Eve waved once more.
And the bike shot into the night—lights blinking, the jet-engine hum fading into the sky until only wind and silence remained over the wrecked lot.
Mark stared upward.
Kai watched him for a moment. Then turned, rising into the air.
"Let's go?"
Mark shot him a smug look."You need a name."
And he flew after him.
As they soared over Chicago, Mark tried again.
"Come on, no way you haven't thought of anything. Just pick something."
They skimmed the buildings—glowing windows streaking past, cold wind slicing their faces, the city sprawling below in waves of yellow and white lights.
Kai didn't answer immediately.
Silently, he flew on, bandana fluttering, hands loose at his sides.
A word with meaning…
His eyes drifted across the skyline—glass, steel, concrete, neon. Repetition. Emptiness.
Then something caught him.
A rooftop.
He stopped mid-air.
Mark halted too. "Kai?"
Kai hovered motionless, eyes locked on a terrace high above—a beautiful structure of glass walls, metal railing, neatly kept plants.
That rooftop.
Where everything started.Where he used to meet Kiana.
And the memories came.
Not like a wave. Not like a flood.
Like slides.
Disconnected images. Without emotion. Without warmth. Just… logs. Records of what once was.
Him and Kiana sitting on the edge, legs dangling outside, laughing at something he no longer remembered.
Her leaning on his shoulder, both silently watching the city lights.
Her shouting at him to stop flying so high, laughing.
Moments where he didn't feel empty.
He didn't feel anything now—not sadness, not longing, not pain. Just a hollow return to zero.
But somewhere buried deep—lost between personalities—there was still something.
One specific memory.
The two of them walking through her garden. Smell of freshly watered grass. Quiet night. She asked about his powers, about Cosmic. And he hesitated. He always hesitated.
But she insisted.
He activated his eyes.
Blue.
Electric. Sharp. Almost inhuman.
He waited. Waited for her to recoil. To fear him. To look at him the way others did—like gazing into an abyss.
But she didn't.
She stepped closer.
Looked into his eyes. Deeply. Like she saw something no one else had ever seen.
And then she spoke.
"Your eyes are beautiful. They look like… infinity."
Kai closed his eyes where he hovered. Wind struck harder now, pushing the bandana back, tousling his white hair.
Mark yelled, breaking the silence. "Well? Did you think of something?"
Kai opened his eyes slowly.
"Yes."
Mark darted ahead of him, eyes bright. "So? What's the name?"
Kai raised his gaze to him. Firm.
It was stuck in his mind — her voice, that word. That moment he admitted to himself he loved her.
But something was different —hollow in a way he couldn't place. Not anger. Not relief. Not even resolve.
It was absence.
Absence of something that once existed.
Kai's voice came quietly. But without hesitation.
"I'll call myself… Infinity."
Mark grinned—wide, thrilled. "Oh, that's good!" He pumped his fist into the air. "Invincible and Infinity! Villains are screwed now."
He spun in the air and rushed toward home.
WOOOOSH!
Kai remained still for a moment.
Eyes fixed on the rooftop—
on the place where everything began.
Then he turned.
And followed Mark, leaving Chicago's night behind.
He had a name now.
Infinity.
Not because it sounded powerful.
But because once, someone had looked into his eyes and seen something.
And even if that part of him was buried…Even if she was gone…Even if that rooftop stood empty…
He would carry that word.
Because it was all that remained.
Morning After — August 8th, 2015 — Saturday — Somewhere Above the Skies — 9:56 AM
The sky was impossibly clear. Endless blue stretching in every direction, not a single cloud breaking the horizon. The wind at that altitude was sharp—cold, biting, carrying the scent of ozone and thin air. Far below, the rural outskirts outside Chicago spread out like a map—fields of green, narrow roads winding between rolling hills, tiny houses scattered like points on a canvas.
Mark, Kai, and Nolan floated in place, forming a perfect triangle. Their backs were turned toward one another, each holding a worn baseball glove—weathered leather, frayed stitches, the same ones Nolan had bought years ago, back when the twins had been normal children.
Nolan rolled the baseball between his fingers. Simple. White. Red stitching faded by time.
He glanced over his shoulder—Mark to the left, Kai to the right—then turned fully away from both of them.
He drew his arm back.
And threw.
WHOOOOSH.
The ball vanished.
Literally vanished—just a tiny white dot flickering out of sight in a fraction of a second, leaving behind only a faint ripple in the air, like a heat mirage.
Nolan turned back toward them, arms folded, hovering with the same ease someone would stand on solid ground. His red cape swayed lazily in the wind.
"Mark, your mother said you've been anxious about your powers… doubting yourself." Nolan paused, narrowing his eyes. "And you two went out again last night, didn't you?"
Kai stayed silent, gaze fixed straight ahead, expression unreadable.
Mark answered without turning, voice steady. "We went out. We stopped the Mauler Twins by ourselves. The Teen Team showed up afterward."
Nolan raised a brow. Surprised. And—unexpectedly—impressed rather than annoyed.
"By yourselves?"
Mark turned enough to face him. "Yeah. Each of us took one."
Nolan fully rotated in the air, arms still crossed. "Was it difficult?"
Kai shifted slightly—just enough to listen. Mark turned completely.
"Not really. His punches didn't hurt me, but I did take a lot longer than Kai." Mark let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "While I was still figuring things out… I look over, and Kai is literally sitting on the other Mauler like a chair, looking bored out of his mind." He gestured, still half-disbelieving. "I didn't know if I should laugh or be mad I wasn't done yet."
Nolan turned to Kai, the corner of his mouth lifting—almost a laugh. "You used him as a chair?"
Kai shrugged, voice casual. "Yeah. But Mark got the hang of it right after." He glanced at his brother. "Dropped him with one punch."
Nolan watched them for a long moment. Satisfaction glimmered in his eyes.
Genuine pride—contained, but unmistakable.
"You're both progressing very quickly."
He paused—head tilting slightly, as if hearing something they couldn't.
"You hear that?" Nolan said, looking past Mark. "It's coming."
Mark turned. Frowned. Focused.
Then he heard it.
A whistle—distant at first, rising sharply, getting closer.
The ball tore through the sky—coming from Mark's side, crossing the Atlantic, Europe, Asia, the Pacific, the continental United States—wrapping around the world.
Mark raised his glove.
And caught it.
THWAP.
The impact reverberated through the air. The glove dented inward. Mark drifted back a few inches in the sky but held firm.
He looked at the ball. Then at his father. Then at Kai.
Kai watched the ball sitting in Mark's glove, eyes distant.
I've had powers for so long… and never imagined throwing something around the entire planet.
He closed his hand gently, feeling the strength within him. Constant. Ever-present.
Our strength is… frightening. More than I ever imagined.
The three of them faced one another again, forming that same triangle in the sky.
Nolan spoke—calm, steady. The tone of someone who had lived centuries and carried the weight of them all.
"You were nervous about the ball making it around the Earth. But you both threw it… and you both caught it." He paused, eyes shifting between Mark and Kai. "This is the beginning of a long journey for all of us. Along the way, you're going to have to do things you don't want to do, or things you think you can't do."
Mark and Kai listened—silent, unmoving.
"It's okay if you feel afraid sometimes. Doubting yourselves is normal." Nolan's voice softened, though it never lost its strength. "But if you face it and do what must be done, you'll be fine. Like today. Like last night with the Mauler Twins."
He let the words settle.
Then he studied them—truly studied them—as if measuring something only he could see.
"Do you think you can keep that mindset?"
Mark looked at Kai. Nodded—confident, resolute.
Kai nodded back—more because Mark had nodded than out of real certainty.
Mark answered. "Yeah, Dad."
Kai didn't answer.
But he smirked—small, almost invisible—caught in the warmth of the moment.
Nolan continued, but this time his voice carried another weight—something the twins couldn't identify, but felt.
"Most people your age think they're invincible. That kind of mindset makes them reckless and gets them hurt…" His gaze fixed on Mark, then on Kai. "But for you two, it's different. Just like the name Mark chose… you really are invincible."
Mark grinned—wide, proud, glowing.
Nolan gave them one last look. Then turned, preparing to leave.
"We've been out here for a while. I should head back—your mother's probably waiting." He stopped mid-turn, glancing over his shoulder. "Just… wait for your suits before going out again."
They both nodded.
Nolan lifted a hand in a small salute.
And vanished.
WHOOOOSH.
The shockwave hit half a second later, tugging their clothes, blowing their hair back.
Mark turned to Kai, still holding the ball. "Wanna try a few more throws?"
Kai shrugged. "Why not?"
Mark smiled, pulled his arm back, and threw with everything he had.
WHOOOOSH.
The ball disappeared again.
And the two of them stayed there—hovering in the endless Chicago sky, the world stretching below them, infinite and small all at once.
Waiting for the ball to return.
Testing their limits.
Learning what it meant to be invincible.
August 10th, 2015 — Monday — Art's Shop — 7:22 AM
The small bell above the door jingled as Nolan, Kai, and Mark entered. The scent of new fabric, industrial glue, and dye filled the air, mixing with the warm smell of the old coffee Art always left sitting on the counter. Mannequins lined the walls, dressed in capes, masks, and boots of every style—relics, experiments, and future trends of superhuman fashion.
In the center of the shop, Art Rosenbaum adjusted the final stitches on a pair of gloves while Mark tried on his first real suit: vibrant blue, yellow stripes running from his shoulders to his chest, tapering into a sharp "I." The mask's lenses reflected the shop lights. The yellow gloves and boots completed the look. He looked like he had stepped straight out of a comic book—classic, bold, buzzing with the thrill of finally becoming something.
Beside him, Kai wore the identical cut—but the energy was completely different.
All black, trimmed with faint metallic gray. No bright colors. The gray shimmered subtly under the lights, the visor lightly mirrored so nothing of his eyes could show. The same "I" marked his chest, but here it felt like a quiet warning rather than a symbol begging attention. His white hair caught the light in stark contrast—cold and striking beside Mark's darker, warmer presence.
Art clapped his hands. "Well, since both your names start with 'I,' I figured you'd appreciate matching sets. Brother-uniforms—same cut, unique details."
Mark grinned wide, spinning in front of the mirror, arms outstretched like he wanted to take off right there. Kai stood beside him, studying their reflection. But his gaze drifted to the corner—where his old Grey suit once hung.
Now the mannequin stood empty.
He faced the mirror again. The new suit fit perfectly but it felt strange.
I liked the old one better… he thought, pulling the mask down—covering his forehead, eyes, and the sides of his face. His hair, mouth, and nose remained exposed. At least this one hides my eyes. Nobody will notice if they turn blue.
Mark shook Art's hand eagerly. "Thanks, Art! This is awesome!"
Art smiled, pushing his glasses up with pride.
Minutes later, the three cut through the sky above the clouds. Wind howled past them. The city below awakened—buildings, intersections, cars flowing like busy ants.
Nolan flew ahead, the red cape the only warm splash of color in the sea of blue sky. He turned back, his voice carrying easily.
"You boys have school. I'll see you later."
Mark and Kai waved, changing trajectory toward campus, sunlight gleaming off their matching-but-different uniforms.
Two paths.
Two brothers.
One sky.
A Few Minutes Later — August 10th, 2015 — Reginald Vel Johnson High School — 7:54 AM
The hallway buzzed with chaos—lockers slamming, voices overlapping, sneakers squeaking across polished floors. The cafeteria's burnt coffee smell mixed with the overly strong cologne of someone who didn't understand moderation. A fluorescent light above flickered—dying, creating a strobe effect.
Mark walked beside Kai, backpack slung over his shoulder, scanning the hallway ahead. And then he saw her.
Eve.
Back turned.
Red hair in a ponytail.
Walking alone toward chemistry class.
Mark shot Kai a wide-eyed look. "I knew it!"
He rushed forward, barely dodging a couple of students. "Hey! You!"
Eve turned. Blinked. Smiled. "Hey. Mark, right?"
Mark stopped in front of her, frowning. "How do you know my na—"
He froze. The realization hit. "Oh. Right. I wasn't wearing a mask… I can't believe we have classes together."
Eve laughed—light, genuine. "Seeing you two walking together, one with white hair and one with dark hair… it's not hard to guess, even with a mask."
Kai approached quietly behind Mark, giving her a tiny nod—barely movement at all.
They walked together down the hall. Mark leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Yeah… Think you can keep that to yourself? You never know when one of your teammates might go crazy and become the next big villain."
Eve stopped. Turned to him. Looked between them—Mark deadly serious, Kai frowning slightly like he couldn't believe what he'd heard.
Kai shrugged. "He watches too many cartoons."
Eve laughed, shaking her head. "That only happens in comic books."
Mark spun his locker combination, yawning—loud, theatrical, eyes watering. "Yeah, maybe. Still… can't hurt to be careful."
Kai and Eve stood beside him while he grabbed his books.
Eve watched Mark—his mannerisms, the way he moved, how he acted while organizing his things. It has to be him.
She leaned against the locker beside his.
"Looks like you're not used to sleeping late and waking up early yet." Eve tilted her head, smiling. "You'll get there. Teen heroes usually drink a lot of coffee."
Mark pointed at Kai with his thumb. "Pretty soon I'll be drinking it black like him."
Eve adjusted her backpack, looking between the two.
"Well… we're following up on some leads from that incident. You two can come along if you want."
Kai was already preparing to decline—mouth opening, the refusal right at the tip of his tongue.
But Mark jumped ahead, excited. "You can count on us!"
Kai turned his head slowly toward him. "Weren't you supposed to be at Burger Mart after school?"
"No." Mark slammed his locker shut. "I switched shifts last week. I closed twice."
Eve smiled again—this time, only at Mark. "Then after school we'll go together."
Kai rolled his eyes, exhaling through his nose.
One peaceful day… is that too much to ask?
He didn't say anything.
Just walked toward the classroom.
Mark and Eve followed, talking quietly—about classes, about how strange it was being at the same school without realizing it.
Kai picked up pieces of the conversation but didn't care.
Mark's not ready. I'll have to go. Just to make sure he doesn't do something stupid.
He entered the classroom. Sat near the window.
And stared outside, waiting for the day to pass.
Already knowing exactly how it would end.
Another mission.
Another problem.
Another thing he had to do because no one else would.
Great.
Later That Day — End of Class — Reginald Vel Johnson High School — 2:45 PM
The bell rang—loud, shrill, echoing through crowded hallways. Students spilled from classrooms like a tidal wave, shouting, laughing, shoving, rushing to escape. The smell of old books and rubber soles mixed with the fresh afternoon air drifting through open windows.
Mark, Kai, and Eve stepped out the front entrance—down the wide concrete stairs, past groups lounging on railings or making plans for the afternoon.
Mark looked around, confused.
"Why are we going out this way? Do you take the bus to get to your secret base?"
Eve shot him a dry smile. "Are you serious? I can fly."
She pointed toward a rusty metal structure at the edge of the parking lot—some sort of old trash enclosure. "I come here because I can change inside."
The three stepped in. The smell of stale garbage and mildew hit instantly. Faint light filtered through the cracks in the metal walls.
Eve simply changed—pink energy pulsing around her as her school clothes dissolved and her hero suit materialized. Vibrant pink. The glowing atom symbol on her chest pulsing softly.
When she turned around, both brothers were already fully changed—uniforms on, backpacks slung over their shoulders.
Eve blinked. "Okay… that was fast." She tilted her head, smiling. "Your superspeed is working great."
Kai shrugged behind his mask. Mark adjusted his gloves.
Eve eyed them—Mark in blue, black, and yellow; Kai in black and pale silver—She raised a brow. "At least you're not wearing pajamas today." She crossed her arms. "So what should I call you two? I assume it's not Kai and Mark."
Mark stepped forward proudly. "I'm Invincible."
Eve lifted a brow, smirking. "Kind of optimistic, isn't it?"
Kai laughed—quiet, genuine.
Mark groaned. "Oh my God. Kai said the same thing. You two have the same terrible humor."
Eve laughed, shrugging. Then turned to Kai. "And you?"
"I'm Infinity."
Her smile widened. "You two really are full of yourselves, huh?"
Kai walked past her, voice dripping sarcasm. "Someone told me to pick a word that meant something." He paused, locking eyes with her as he lifted into the air. "So… which way?"
She arched a brow, then looked at Mark. "Let's go."
The three shot into the sky.
Teen Team Headquarters — 3:02 PM
They arrived flying above a wide industrial warehouse—rusted metal structure, broken windows, graffiti covering the outer walls. It looked abandoned. But on the roof, a circular opening revealed a ring of blue lights glowing inside.
The three of them descended.
The interior was surprisingly clean. Cutting-edge tech filled every corner—screens everywhere, worktables stacked with equipment, hover bikes parked at the side, drones resting on charging pads. The air smelled of metal, machine oil, and static electricity.
Robot was working at a console in the back, metallic fingers typing rapidly. He spoke without turning, his synthetic voice echoing through the hangar. "You are late… I think I can assume that the two who are with you are the same two from the other night.."
They approached. Robot finally turned—LED eyes glowing green as he scanned each of them.
"Well, at least you're wearing proper uniforms this time." He paused, then looked at Eve. "By the way, had you arrived three minutes later, I would have handled this myself."
He walked toward the hover bikes—two of them, polished, their anti-gravity engines humming softly.
"These models are comfortable for up to three passengers. We'll take two."
Kai looked at the bikes. Raised a hand casually. "You guys go. I'll follow from the air. One bike draws less attention than two flying over everything."
Robot nodded—quick, pragmatic.
He mounted one of the bikes. Eve climbed in behind him. Mark took the rear seat.
The engines grew louder, their hum deepening.
Robot spoke while adjusting the controls. "About the Mauler Twins we captured… we need to understand why they were stealing video games from a toy store." He paused, LEDs flickering. "I erased their memories from the last two days. I left one near the shop and the other on the opposite side of the city. We will observe one while my drones follow the other."
The bike lifted—rising through the hole in the ceiling, cutting across the blue afternoon sky.
Kai shot upward after them, hands by his sides, white hair whipping in the wind.
Mark looked back, watching his brother fly alone, then turned forward again.
The city stretched below—Chicago easing into late afternoon, lights beginning to flicker on, traffic thickening along the avenues.
And somewhere down there, the Mauler Twins were waking up.
With no memories.
No idea what they had done.
But Robot knew.
And now they were going to find out why.
Minutes Later — Toy & Electronics Store — 3:16 PM
The Mauler woke up.
Slowly. Confused. Looking around like he didn't recognize his own reflection. He got to his feet, rubbing his forehead, walking down the empty street—heavy steps echoing.
Above him, four figures followed—floating between sparse clouds at a safe distance. Robot's bike glided forward in near silence, Eve and Mark behind him. Kai flew a few meters to the side.
Robot tapped his visor, eyes glowing as data streamed in. "Based on their trajectories, they are heading toward the same location. The one my drones are tracking stopped in a decommissioned factory."
The Mauler turned a corner. Then another. Until he stopped before an abandoned building—broken windows, graffiti-covered walls, a half-open back door creaking in the wind.
He stepped inside.
Robot raised a hand—silent signal. The bike halted mid-air.
Robot pressed a button on his arm, activating the audio from the bug he had planted on the Maulers.
Inside the Abandoned Factory
The Mauler entered. Looked around. Old machinery, metal tables, exposed wires dangling from the ceiling. Then he saw the other one.
Identical. Standing near a bench, working on something.
"Where were you?" the first asked, frowning. "I don't remember anything. We were supposed to grab the processors to finish the robot batch."
The second turned, equally confused. "I don't know. I don't remember anything either. My head feels like a blank sheet." He paused. "I remember going to the store and then… nothing. You weren't there, so I came back."
The first frowned deeper. "Same for me. This is weird…"
The Mauler at the bench lifted a screen. "Either way, we can't fall behind. Let's see what we can get done."
CRASH!
The ceiling exploded.
Chunks of metal and concrete rained down. Dust rose in a thick cloud. Sunlight poured through the fresh opening.
And then they descended.
Robot. Atom Eve. Invincible. Infinity.
Kai dove straight down—fast, precise—aiming a kick at the Mauler near the door.
The clone rolled back, already standing again, fists clenched.
Robot turned to Mark and Eve, pointing. "Stop that one from activating the robots. Infinity and I will handle this one."
Mark and Eve shot toward the Mauler by the bench.
Eve raised both hands—pink energy pulsing, forming solid projectiles that slammed into the clone's chest.
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
He staggered half a step. Nothing more. He grinned. "What makes you think we need robots to deal with you?"
He charged—too fast for something so large—snatched Eve by the arm, and hoisted her overhead.
"Put me down!" Eve twisted, struggling.
POW!
Mark struck the Mauler's jaw with a solid punch.
The clone's head snapped sideways. His grip loosened, dropping Eve.
Mark didn't stop.
POW!
Another hit.
POW!
Another.
The Mauler stumbled back, hands rising to defend.
Across the room, Robot stood before the second Mauler, LEDs glowing brighter. "You should have stayed quiet."
The Mauler laughed and lunged—landing a punch square in Robot's chest.
CLANG!
Robot flew backward—slamming into an old machine, crushing it. Twisted metal. Sparks shooting. A power cable tore loose.
The Mauler stepped forward, still laughing. "I don't know what you expected, but you picked a fight you can't win!"
Robot stood, eyes shifting toward the dangling power cable. He grabbed it.
Spun.
Pressed it to the Mauler's chest.
BUZZZZZ!
A blinding flash. Smoke rising.
When the smoke cleared, the Mauler was still standing. Not even singed.
He reached forward, grabbing Robot. "You'll need more than tha—"
POW!
Kai appeared at his side—driving a punch into the clone's gut.
The Mauler folded forward, air bursting from his lungs.
Kai followed—knee lifting sharply.
CRACK!
The clone's head snapped back, blood spraying.
Kai hovered beside him, close enough to grab the back of his neck.
He twisted his body.
And slammed the Mauler's face into the concrete floor.
BOOOOM!
Cracks spread like a spiderweb. The clone's body sank into the ground.
Motionless.
Unconscious.
Across the room, the other Mauler fell as well—Mark standing over him.
Robot looked at the brothers. Then at the two unconscious Maulers.
"Invincible and Infinity." He paused. "Efficient duo. Thank you for the assistance." His LEDs pulsed. "What do you think about joining our team?"
Kai didn't answer. He just floated there, staring at the unconscious clone.
They didn't need me. Eve and Mark could have handled it. Robot too.
Did I even need to be here?
Mark smiled. "I'll think about it." He looked around the factory. "Is it always this easy?"
Eve laughed, shaking her head.
With the mission done, Robot cleaned up, called reinforcement drones, and arranged transport for the Maulers.
They split as night fell—Eve heading home, Robot back to base.
Kai and Mark flew together.
Cutting through the darkening sky, Chicago lighting up beneath them like a constellation on the ground.
August 10th, 2015 — Monday — Grayson House — 8:21 PM
When they landed in the backyard, Debbie was at the door, smiling.
"It looks like the heroes made it in time for dinner," she said, waving them inside.
Mark grinned. "Thanks, Mom!"
The two removed their masks and walked toward the door—but before Kai stepped in, he caught sight of Viktor leaning against the side of the house.
Arms crossed. That half-smile—the one that promised annoyance Kai didn't feel like dealing with.
Kai glanced up at the sky one last time.
Still empty, yet… oddly satisfying. He wasn't sure.
At least Mark had done well.
For now, that was enough.
Later That Night — 11:54 PM
The house was silent. Mark slept deeply on the other bed—soft snores, one arm dangling off the mattress, blanket twisted at his feet. Moonlight slipped through the half-open window, drawing silver lines across the floor.
Kai sat up. Slowly. Quietly.
He went downstairs—each step creaking faintly. The lingering smell of old coffee still clung to the kitchen air. The house breathed in the dark.
He opened the fridge. Pale yellow light washed over his face—tired eyes, hollow expression. He grabbed a water bottle. Closed the door.
And when he turned—
Viktor was there.
Leaning against the counter. Arms crossed. That crooked smirk. As if he'd been there the whole time.
"Things are going well lately," Viktor said, amusement dripping from every word. "Mark's doing fine. You're not ignoring the world entirely, even if you're still empty inside… obviously." He tilted his head. "I'm honestly impressed you faced your past and picked a new name on your own. Even more because it involved Kiana. Didn't even need to show up to force you to notice."
Kai took a drink of water. Turned slightly. "What are you trying to say now?"
Viktor's smile sharpened. "Your head's a mess. Hard to keep things organized in here… and something's bothering me." He pulled out a chair, spun it, sat on it backwards, elbows propped up. "Because, dude, this whole situation is confusing as hell. Put all the Kiana, Cassie, and Grey drama aside… you need to deal with this. Let me connect the dots—"
Kai sighed—barely audible. "Dots? What the hell are you even talking about?"
"Eve," Viktor said, tone casual but razor-edged.
Kai stared, unamused. "I have no idea what you're trying to imply."
"You met her when you were kids," Viktor continued. "She was sad. You said something empty and logical—classic you. And somehow, it helped."
Kai didn't respond.
"Then you ran into her again. In front of her house. She was outside on the grass, using her powers, crying over something. You stopped. Said something again. And right after you left, she saved a kid from falling off his bike."
Kai remained with a bored look on his face. No sign that it mattered.
"You saw that. Thought it was cool. Thought she was doing something you couldn't. Something you didn't. Like when that kid got hit by a car and you froze."
Kai remained silent, but his fingers tightened around the bottle. "Enough," he said quietly.
"Did I hit a nerve? You don't get to be mad at me. Did you forget why I'm not here?" Viktor's voice stayed light, but his eyes were knives — aimed at him.
The water bottle shattered in Kai's hand.
Now guilt stung. His gaze drifted downward, speechless.
"Then came New Year's. Just you and her at the park at midnight. She talked about being a hero—maybe you talked too, your classic 'life is meaningless but do whatever you want' speech. Fireworks went off. She didn't hear your name. You left. That's why she asked again at the hospital."
Viktor leaned closer.
"When you showed up as Grey—with the white hair, mask, whole new look. You know what was funny? The questions she asked. She was probably searching for you. You know that, right? That mysterious boy who appeared when she was falling apart, said exactly what she needed to hear, then vanished like a ghost."
Kai stared. "Fine. Maybe she was. So what?"
"You realized she thought Mark was you. And you didn't say anything." Viktor's smile grew sharper. "Because you didn't care. Because you don't feel things, right? You're empty. A hollow shell wearing skin. You didn't say anything because she'd have expectations. She'd want you to be that boy who inspired her. And you?" He scoffed. "You're just an empty guy hoping your brother becomes a hero who can handle everything on his own, because you'd rather dodge every problem."
Silence.
Viktor kept going.
"Remember when you saw her on TV fighting those mutant experiments on the overpass? One of the blades went through her stomach—bleeding everywhere. And for the first time, you moved, didn't you?"
Kai raised a brow—calm on the outside, something else simmering deep.
"You flew across the city in broad daylight. You kept your Six Eyes active for more than ten minutes straight—first time ever—just to track every camera and angle so you wouldn't be seen. But when you got there, she was gone. Black car. Government. You told yourself she was fine and went back to training."
Viktor sighed softly.
"But it didn't end there, did it? You went back. Stood across the street from her house like some creepy stalker, just to make sure she got home safe. And when she finally showed up—sad about something—she saw you."
Kai blinked slowly.
"That's why she's been searching for that boy," Viktor said. "Every time she hit rock bottom, you showed up. Not because you cared—let's be realistic—but because some broken part of you felt guilty. Guilty for freezing years ago. Guilty for not helping her on the bridge. And ironically, you keep repeating the same mistakes. Me. Mirage. That 'I'm not a hero anymore' crap. Mark having powers now and that being 'enough.' Isn't that right?"
Kai murmured, "Are we done?" His tone bored, but underneath… guilt for Viktor and Mirage burned quietly.
"Fine, fine. We're done. It's just— you keep falling into the same damn loop, and it annoys me." Viktor folded his arms. "Why did you think of her when I told you to think of a girl over a year ago?"
Kai looked at him, exhausted. "Maybe because you won't shut up."
"Your personality's unstable. Changes every hour… I told you: your role at the helm is to feel everything. If it gets too heavy, I take over." Viktor leaned back now, relaxed. "But I get it. You thought of her because she saved your life. She jumped in front of those laser beams. An attack that could've killed her, just to protect you. And that finally got through your thick skull, didn't it? Someone risked her life for you. Not because she owed you. Not because she needed something. Just because she decided to."
Kai's expression barely shifted—but behind his eyes, something flickered.
"That stuck with you," Viktor said simply. "You don't forget something like that. And she saved you again—with Cosmic—when you lost control."
He leaned forward, voice low.
"I'll be clear: I don't think Kiana deserves you anymore. Move on. She left." Viktor exhaled, gliding back in his chair, relaxed. "I've said what I needed to say. Now it's your choice: tell Eve the truth, or let the misunderstanding live."
Kai stood there.
Staring at the bottle in his hand.
Viktor vanished.
The kitchen fell silent again.
Only the hum of the refrigerator. The ticking clock on the wall.
He stayed there for another minute.
Then went back upstairs.
No answer.
No decision.
Only emptiness.
As always.
One Week Later — August 18th, 2015 — Tuesday — Twin Pines Mall — 4:21 PM
Another day. And like the past few, quiet for the twins.
After school, Kai went straight home. Mark headed to Burger Mart—afternoon shift, six hours flipping burgers and wiping tables. Nolan was off somewhere on a world mission—something about volcanoes in Indonesia, according to what he had mentioned at breakfast.
But at the Twin Pines Mall, something was about to happen.
The food court was packed. Families walking around with bags, teenagers sitting at round tables laughing loudly, phones in hand. The smell of pizza, popcorn, and cheap perfume drifted through the air-conditioning. Pop music played softly from built-in speakers—barely audible over the chatter.
At the center of the open-air section near an ornamental fountain—currently turned off—there was a wooden bench.
A young man lay on it.
Still.
Michael.
He woke slowly. Blinked. The late-afternoon sun stung his eyes. He sat up, dazed, head heavy as if drugged. He ran a hand over his hair—short, military-style fade.
He looked around. People walking, no one noticing him.
Where am I?
He tried to remember. School. Lockers.
Then… nothing.
Blank.
He rubbed his eyes, trying to shake off the fog. And felt something under his tank top. Pressure. Something cold against his chest.
He frowned.
He pulled the collar of his shirt down and looked inside.
And saw it.
A mechanical chestpiece. Thin. Silver. Attached to his skin—or replacing it, he couldn't tell. At the center, a small green LED glowed through the fabric.
Beneath the LED, a digital timer.
00:00:05
00:00:04
Michael blinked. "What the hell…?"
00:00:03
His heartbeat spiked. He grabbed the tank top, desperately trying to tear the device off.
00:00:02
It didn't budge.
00:00:01
He opened his mouth to scream.
KABOOOOOM!
The explosion consumed the middle of the mall.
A blossoming fireball—orange and red—like a small sun igniting. The shockwave hurled tables, chairs, people—bodies flinging in every direction. Glass shattered. Metal twisted. Concrete split apart.
The sound came after—the deafening roar swelling through the halls, corridors, up the levels of the building.
Black smoke curled upward in a dense spiral. Alarms blared. Sprinklers activated, artificial rain pouring over the wreckage.
And then came the screams.
Twin Pines Mall Parking Lot — 4:22 PM
Everyone turned.
People ran for the exits. Others froze, staring back at the explosion trying to make sense of it. Sirens grew in the distance—police, fire department, paramedics.
Among the crowd, a man entered an old car—a faded gray sedan with peeling paint and a dented bumper.
Locked jaw. Cheap office clothes—yellowed white shirt, brown sweater vest, worn-out dress pants. Thinning hair, gray at the sides. Thin-framed glasses that made him look older than he probably was—maybe early fifties.
He sat in the driver's seat. Closed the door quietly. Looked at the rearview mirror—the smoke rising, people running, chaos unfolding.
And murmured.
Barely audible.
"It was supposed to be Todd."
He turned the key. The engine coughed, then came alive.
"But you took his place first."
The car pulled out of the space. Calm. Unhurried.
And merged into traffic.
Two Days Later — August 20th, 2015 — Thursday — Reginald Vel Johnson High School — 11:09 AM
The auditorium was packed. Rows of folding chairs creaked under the weight of three hundred restless students. The AC struggled against the heat of so many bodies—cheap deodorant, too much perfume, and that old-building mustiness clinging to the walls. Flickering fluorescent bulbs overhead.
On stage, Principal Winslow stood behind the podium—a dark-skinned man, short-cut hair graying at the sides, old gray suit, crooked tie. Police officers sat beside him, along with teachers wearing expressions far too serious for a school assembly.
Winslow adjusted his glasses, glanced at the paper in his hand, then looked up. His voice echoed through the microphone.
"We are currently working with authorities to provide all information that may help locate the missing students." He paused, scanning the crowd. "I must ask that no one panic. The students who disappeared, although on different dates, were friends."
Low murmurs spread through the room.
Winslow continued, firmer now. "Please remain safe. Do not walk alone… and if any of you know anything about their whereabouts, or see anything suspicious, report it to me or the police immediately."
The bell rang.
Three hundred students stood at once—chairs clattering, conversations erupting, footsteps filling the auditorium. Noise tripled instantly.
Mark, Kai, and Eve walked together, joining the stream flooding the hallways.
Eve wore a fitted green long-sleeve top, jeans, her red hair straight down her shoulders. Eyes sharp as they scanned the corridor.
Mark beside her—blue shirt, jeans, messy dark hair, brown eyes still half asleep.
Kai a few steps behind—black shirt tight around his frame, dark jeans, and once again… sunglasses.
Eve glanced at him sideways, eyebrow raised. "Sunglasses at school?"
Mark turned before Kai could answer. "He has a pass because of headaches." He paused. "Though last week he wasn't wearing them."
Kai shrugged, voice dripping sarcasm. "I'm hiding my tears because someone as wonderful as Todd is missing."
Mark laughed—short, genuine. "Dude, everyone's thinking the same thing. And honestly…" He lowered his voice, checking if anyone was listening. "Whatever happened to them, they couldn't have picked better people."
Eve stopped. Turned to him. Face twisted in disapproval. "My God! That's a horrible thing to say." She crossed her arms. "I talked to Todd a few times… I don't know about the other guys, but he was nice."
Kai looked over, smirk forming. He locked eyes with her, voice dripping irony. "Wow, really makes you wonder why he was nice to you, huh?"
Eve stared back, confused.
Mark laughed, one hand behind his head. "I'll answer that one—easy! Pretty sure it's because she's extremely attractive."
Eve blinked. Looked at Kai. Then Mark. "You know I'm dating Rex, right?"
Kai let out a short, mocking laugh—audible enough.
Mark raised both hands, flustered. "No, no—! That's not what I meant. Not like that."
Eve narrowed her eyes for a second—evaluating whether she believed him—then sighed and kept walking. "Fine." She looked over her shoulder. "So… are you two going to the cafeteria too, or just following me around?"
Mark adjusted his backpack, still embarrassed. "Well, we've got the same break." He turned to Kai, then back to her. "I still can't believe we're all in the same school."
Kai followed without saying anything else, smirk lingering as he watched how the scene played out.
The three reached the cafeteria in silence. Grabbed trays—Mark got spaghetti and meatballs, Eve a salad, Kai a sandwich. They sat by the window.
Eve glanced at both of them, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, then turned to Mark. She studied him for a moment. "Sorry if I was rude earlier." She paused, fingers tapping the fork. "It's just… I'm dating someone, so I wanted to make sure you weren't—"
Mark raised a hand, cutting her off, voice serious. "Please don't even think that. Forget it."
Eve looked aside for a second. Then she regained composure and went back to her food.
Mark looked elsewhere too—expression calm, but beneath it, a flicker of disappointment.
Kai noticed.
He said nothing.
They ate for a while. Then Mark broke the silence. "So… being a superhero is cool, right?"
Eve looked at him, smiling. But the smile faded fast, replaced by something serious.
"Speaking of that…" She lowered her voice, leaning closer. "Did you two hear about another attack at a shopping mall?"
Kai and Mark exchanged glances—mutual surprise.
Eve continued. "Robot's trying to find the culprit, but the bombs are so strong they disintegrate all evidence."
Mark took another bite, mouth full. "Another bomb? That makes two in less than a month."
Eve looked at them, hands clasped on the table. "If you want to come to our hideout—our base, whatever you call it—after school, I'm sure Robot would be glad to have you." She paused. "You still haven't said if you're joining the team."
Mark sighed, dropping the fork. "I don't know if I can. I have to work today."
"You still work at Burger Mart?" Eve asked, tilting her head. "Isn't your dad a famous writer?"
"Well, yeah. It's not like we need the money…" Mark shifted. "I just want to be independent. And my dad says work builds character."
Eve looked at Kai, curious. "If he says that… why doesn't Kai work with you too?"
Kai answered without looking at her, dripping sarcasm. "Because I don't have character. So there's nothing to build."
Eve narrowed her eyes, unimpressed. Mark chuckled.
"He got first place and had a scholarship to a fancy private school. So… he pretty much has a free pass," Mark explained.
Eve smiled at Mark, then shot Kai a sideways glance. "Didn't expect that one."
They finished eating. Pushed their trays away. Stood up.
As soon as they left the cafeteria, they split—Eve going left, Kai and Mark going right.
Seconds later, William crossed paths with them, backpack slung over one shoulder, wide grin on his face.
"Well, well." He pointed at them. "So you ditched your friend for a girl?"
Mark slapped his shoulder playfully. "Hey, William. We ditched no one."
William squinted at them. "Don't lie to me. Which one of you is dating her?"
Kai answered immediately. "Not me."
William spun to face Mark, eyes widening. "Knew it. It's you."
Mark exhaled, shaking his head—too tired to explain.
William opened his mouth to continue, but the bell rang, ending lunch.
And the three disappeared into the flow of students…
After school, Kai went home. Mark went to work.
Predictably.
August 20th, 2015 — Thursday — Burger Mart — 3:46 PM
The smell of hot oil and frying meat filled the kitchen. Steam rising from the grills, grease popping, the loud extractor fan struggling against it all. Mark stood by the fryer, holding the baskets of bubbling fries, staring at the wall clock.
Completely bored.
Five hours and fourteen minutes left.
The kitchen door slammed open.
The manager walked in—orange-and-white striped shirt, crooked tie, name tag reading "Dan" pinned on the wrong side. Round belly, thinning white hair, impatient expression.
"Grayson! Fries! We've got customers waiting!" he barked, arms crossed.
Mark turned, lifting the basket. "They're coming out, sir!"
Dan stepped closer—serious, arrogant. "They're still coming out?" His eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea how long our customers have been waiting? You think they like waiting?"
Mark narrowed his eyes back, answering out of obligation. "No. I don't think so."
"You don't think so?" Dan stepped closer, voice rising. "Well, start thinking faster." He pointed toward the back hallway. "Go take out the trash. I'll finish the fries."
Mark froze.
Fists clenched.
Irritation rising—hot, sharp, squeezing his chest.
No way Kai would take this crap.
He looked aside for a moment.
What would he do?
And everything changed.
The annoyed expression shifted—into something else. Determined. Defiant.
Mark stared at the manager. A tiny smirk forming.
"You know what I'm sure about?"
Dan frowned. "What?"
Mark dropped the fryer basket—letting it splash back into the oil.
Then he took off his hat—damp with sweat—
And tossed it straight into the boiling fryer.
FWOOOOMP!
The air exploded as scorching oil erupted upward in a violent burst of steam and grease—barely missing anyone. But even if it hadn't, Mark was ready to intervene.
The hat sizzled, darkening immediately. Dan stumbled back with a shout, shielding his face with his striped shirt.
The fryer hissed loud enough to fill the whole kitchen.
FSSSSSSSS.
Dan lowered his shirt, eyes wide. "What the—?!"
"So, yeah, I'm sure I'm done here." Mark was already walking away, peeling off his uniform shirt. He tossed it to the floor. "Now you can finish your fries with extra seasoning."
The manager stared, shocked. "Grayson?! Have you lost your mind?!"
Mark stopped at the doorway. Looked over his shoulder with a wide grin.
"I quit, in case that wasn't clear!" He paused. "Asshole!"
And walked out.
Minutes Later — Grayson House — 4:04 PM
Mark opened the front door. Peeking inside as if expecting an ambush.
Kai was on the couch—feet up on the coffee table, cup of fresh coffee in hand, empty plate beside him with crumbs from what was likely yet another sandwich.
Mark slipped in silently, closing the door with care.
"Is Dad home?"
Kai didn't turn. "No. He left a little while ago."
"Thank God." Mark collapsed beside him, sinking into the cushions.
Kai glanced at him, raising a brow. "Shouldn't you be at Burger Mart right now?"
Mark turned to him—face of someone who definitely did something stupid. "I quit." He paused. "Dad's gonna kill me."
Kai raised the other brow, lifting the cup to his lips. "Congratulations on achieving freedom." He took a sip. "But yes… knowing him, he'll probably be pissed. And why did you do it?"
Mark told him everything. The whole story. Dan being an ass. The pressure. The frustration.
And the finale.
Kai almost spat his coffee.
"You did WHAT?!" He set the cup down, turning fully toward Mark. "You threw your hat into the fryer?!"
Then he burst into laughter—loud, genuine, filling the whole room.
Mark laughed too, killing the tension. "I thought, 'What would Kai do?'" He reenacted it dramatically. "And dude, you should've seen Dan's face. He looked like, 'Has he lost his mind?!'"
Kai laughed harder—real laughter, the kind he almost never let out. "That's great. That's something Viktor would've done."
Mark chuckled. Then grew quieter. Looked at his brother.
"We never talked about it." He paused. "How he… you know… died."
The room fell silent.
Kai's smile faded.
He stared at Mark. Choosing.
Tell the truth? Keep lying?
He chose a piece of the truth.
"Mark…" Kai turned fully to him. "There's something I never told you."
Mark blinked. "What is it?"
Kai took a slow breath.
"Viktor was Vortex. From the Young Team."
Mark's eyes widened. "You're kidding."
He froze, thinking. Then the realization hit—like solving a puzzle.
"Dude… it makes sense." He stared at the floor, connecting dots. "His funeral happened at the same time the Young Team ended and Vortex died. I always wished I could've met them."
Silence settled in again.
The clock ticked. The fridge hummed.
Mark finally spoke, quieter. "Being a hero isn't a joke… I hadn't thought about that." He looked at Kai. "That's why you didn't want a costume?"
Kai looked at him.
Then looked away.
Viktor appeared—sitting on the other end of the couch, staring at Kai. Still. Watching.
Kai answered only, "Maybe."
Mark didn't ask more.
He just absorbed it.
After a moment, he stood—trying to shift the mood, determined.
"Why don't we go patrol for a bit?"
Kai sank into the couch, grabbing his half-finished coffee. "I can't. I've got my coffee to finish." He took a sip, staring at the ceiling. "It's not every day you get supervillains or exploding malls."
Mark smirked, shrugging. "Fine. I'll go then."
He headed to the stairs, glancing over his shoulder. "Enjoy your coffee, movies, shows… or whatever crap you're watching."
Kai leaned back, raising a lazy thumbs-up. And Mark went upstairs.
Kai stayed there. Cup in hand. Staring at the ceiling.
He hadn't told Mark he was Grey—but at least he had started telling pieces of the truth.
Viktor still sat across the room.
Watching.
Waiting.
Interlude — Part 1: First Contact
August 20th, 2015 — Downtown Chicago — 4:26 PM
Late afternoon made downtown Chicago swell with people. Cars stuck in traffic, lines forming at lights, impatient honking echoing between mirrored buildings. People hurried across crosswalks, shopping bags swinging, street vendors calling out deals. The wind from the lake carried a light chill mixed with gasoline and street food.
A bus braked hard at the corner, doors opening with a hiss. A cyclist barely avoided a taxi that turned without signaling. Voices layered into a constant hum—laughter, complaints, phone calls on speaker.
Then, in the middle of it all, something lit up in the air.
A faint orange glow appeared a few feet above the street—as if someone had struck a match in the middle of nothing.
Small at first. A tiny spark burning against gray asphalt.
No one noticed.
The point grew.
From a flicker, it became a ring. The air around it wavered like heat on metal. The glow intensified, swirling, the edges warping like molten fire.
Now people noticed.
A driver rolled his window down, squinting. A woman paused mid-step, coffee forgotten in her hand. A kid raised his phone, already recording.
The orange ring fully unfurled.
A portal.
On the other side, for a moment, there was only light. A greenish shimmer, distorted shapes, as if reality were out of focus.
Then something crossed through.
A creature leapt out and landed on the street with a heavy thud.
Green.
Rough skin. Short antennae sprouting from its forehead. Small, deep-set eyes. A blue intergalactic uniform fitted to its body—white shoulder guards and markings resembling some military insignia no one recognized. In its hands, a weapon—clearly not human-made. Long, segmented, metallic, glowing from within with pulsing energy.
Silence.
For half a second, no one screamed.
They just… stared.
The creature slowly raised its weapon, scanning the street as though identifying a target. The portal behind it still burned bright, swirling—implying something else might emerge.
And it started to happen.
Two more identical ones emerged from the portal.
A shopping bag dropped.
A scream tore through the air.
And in that moment, anyone who had ever seen anything like this—in a comic, in a cartoon, or in a nightmare—knew one thing:
This wasn't the first.
And it definitely wouldn't be the last.
Interlude — Part 2: The K-Drama Bubble
Two Days Earlier — Seoul, South Korea — 9:00 PM (UTC+9)
The apartment door slammed harder than necessary.
Kiana walked in, tossing her bag onto the couch without looking. Heavy footsteps against the pale wooden floorboards. The apartment was spacious—glass and minimalist Korean design, panoramic view of the glowing city beyond, neon signs blinking on distant buildings. The faint scent of green tea and something floral lingered in the air. Silence. Always silence.
Claire sat in the armchair by the window, tablet in hand. She looked up as Kiana entered.
Kiana stopped in the middle of the living room. Turned toward her. Her eyes shone—not with tears, but with something burning underneath.
"Claire, I'm going back to the US today." Her voice was firm, but cracked at the edges. "I don't care anymore. I'm done. I'm going back."
Claire studied her for a moment. Then sighed, placing the tablet aside. "Whatever you decide is fine with me."
Before Kiana could answer, a voice came from upstairs.
"Kiana, wait."
She turned—Ian stood on the upper floor, resting his arms on the glass railing as he looked down at them. Hair neat, simple shirt, expression tired but kind. The expression of someone who always carried the weight of being the older sibling like it was instinct.
"I talked to Dad today," he said, walking down the stairs slowly. "He said he'll let you return."
Kiana turned fully toward him, stomping her foot. "When is that supposed to be? I'm not waiting anymore."
Ian finished descending and stopped near them. Crossed his arms—not defensively, but protectively. "I'm on your side." His voice softened. "I know you're miserable here. That's why I talked to Dad."
He paused, choosing his words carefully.
"Look, you're my little sister. I want you to be happy." His tone was firm but heavy. "He said you can come back once you finish filming the next two seasons and graduate."
Kiana's eyes filled instantly. She shook her head, voice trembling. "He's just stalling."
Ian stepped forward and placed a hand on her shoulder—gentle, as if afraid she'd crumble if he held any tighter.
"Calm down. You know how things are." He sighed. "Around the time you finish, we've already planned some projects for the Russia branch." He looked her in the eyes. "If he still refuses when the time comes, I'll take you back myself. And if he wants to stop you…" Ian paused. "He'll have to go against both of his kids."
He pulled her into a hug—brief, but real. A kind of hug that didn't need to last long to mean everything.
Kiana closed her eyes, wiping her tears with the back of her hand.
Ian stepped away, hands still resting on her shoulders. "Can you wait until then? At least try?"
She took a deep breath. Looked toward the window—the lights of Seoul shining, the city she never asked for.
"…Okay," she whispered. Weak, but agreeing.
Claire walked toward the kitchen. Ian gave her shoulder one last squeeze before heading back upstairs.
And Kiana stayed there.
Standing in the middle of the room.
Staring at the city outside.
The guilt returned—not like a wave, but like a weight. Constant. Suffocating.
I don't deserve him.
She had thought that a thousand times. Every time she opened her phone and saw his unread messages. Every time her chest ached with missing him. Every time she saw his face in her dreams and woke up wanting to call—but couldn't.
I left him.
And it didn't matter how many times Ian told her she had no choice. How many times Claire reminded her that her father was too controlling. How many excuses she made.
The truth was simple:
She left.
He stayed.
And the more time passed, the harder it became to justify the silence. The harder it became to imagine he would forgive her. The harder it was to believe she deserved to be anywhere near him ever again.
He must have moved on.
She wanted to believe that.
But it hurt.
It hurt so much she preferred not to think about it.
So she didn't.
She just waited.
Waited for the day she could return and finally tell him:
I'm sorry.
But until then…
She stayed silent.
Because it was easier.
Even if it hurt.