Morning came far too soon.
The academy grounds buzzed with low chatter as students gathered outside the training hall — the air thick with anticipation and unease after the previous day's chaos.
Elena rubbed her tired eyes, her mind still spinning from the argument with Billy. Scarlett walked quietly beside her, clutching her notebook like it might anchor her to something solid.
"Do you think he'll show up?" Scarlett asked softly.
Elena shook her head. "No. Not after last night."
Her tone was sharp but edged with guilt.
They stepped into the classroom — a wide, echoing space reinforced with steel panels and glowing runes carved into the walls. The faint hum of energy vibrated through the air. Sergeant John Smith stood at the front, hands clasped behind his back, his usual grin replaced by focus.
"Morning, cadets," he called. "Today we're moving past drills and combat routines. This—" he gestured to the rune-covered chamber, "—is where you'll learn to manifest. Every one of you has a spark inside you. Today, you find it — or it finds you."
A low murmur rippled through the class.
Smith began walking between them. "Abilities are born from emotion — fear, courage, rage, loss — whatever drives you. Don't suppress it. Feel it. Control it. Make it yours."
Elena stood near the centre of the room. Her heart thudded as she looked around — some students already had faint powers around their hands, fire, water, super speed. while others strained in silence. She clenched her fists, her father's voice echoing in her memory:
Strength isn't about fighting the world, it's about standing for it.
Scarlett sat cross-legged nearby, breathing deeply, eyes shut. "How are we meant to even start?" she whispered.
Elena shrugged. "Guess we just… let it happen."
Smith stopped in front of them. "You two — pair exercise. Focus on what you've lost, and what you want to protect. Push that energy out. Don't think — feel."
Scarlett nodded nervously and closed her eyes again. Elena followed suit.
At first, nothing. Just the hum of magic in the air.
Then, a pulse.
Something deep within Elena's chest — like a heartbeat that wasn't her own — began to stir.
Her hands tingled, pressure building in her palms. Her thoughts flashed to her father — to the storm, to the Cyclops, to his promise to come back. Pain twisted through her, sharp and raw.
Her fingers snapped open.
A crack split the air — a sharp burst of energy firing from her hand. A tiny pebble and shimmer trailing shot across the room, embedding itself in the far wall. The students gasped.
Elena blinked, panting. The faint shimmer faded from her skin.
Smith's lips curled into a grin. "There it is. Controlled force. You've inherited his fire, haven't you?"
Elena didn't answer, but the pride and pain in her eyes said enough.
Nearby, Scarlett was shaking. Her breathing came fast and uneven — then suddenly, pop!
She vanished.
Gasps echoed across the chamber. A split second later, Scarlett reappeared behind Smith with a startled yelp "Shit!", stumbling into a training dummy.
"Teleportation!" Smith barked, almost laughing. "Only a few feet, but that's no small jump for a first try. Well done, Scarlett."
Scarlett looked around, dazed but smiling. "I—I actually did it…"
The Sergeant nodded approvingly. "Both of you, rest. Manifestation drains the body and mind. But remember — once an ability awakens, it only grows stronger."
As the class continued, Elena sat back, her pulse still racing. She looked at her hands, flexing her fingers. The warmth of the energy lingered — wild, waiting.
Scarlett nudged her shoulder with a grin. "Told you we'd get the hang of it."
Elena smiled faintly. But behind that smile, her thoughts drifted to Billy.
To what he might be becoming — and whether his awakening would save him… or destroy them all.
The academy's medical wing sat in silence, its sterile lights buzzing faintly.
Billy stared at the ceiling, one arm wrapped in layers of gauze, the other… gone. The bandaged stump rested on the sheets like a ghost of what used to be.
He hadn't slept. Not really. Every time he closed his eyes, the fight echoed again — and Elena's face, pale and scared beneath him.
A slow creak of the door broke the silence. Heavy boots stepped in, calm and measured. Major Grant filled the doorway — tall, immaculately dressed, his presence commanding.
"Still brooding, Cadet?" Grant's voice carried an edge of mockery softened by authority.
Billy didn't answer.
Grant approached the bedside and set a metal case on the table. The locks released with a hiss. Inside, nestled in velvet, gleamed an arm — not of flesh, but polished alloy and darkened steel, threaded with faint gold light. The craftsmanship was beautiful and brutal all at once.
Billy's gaze locked on it. "What's that?"
"Your future," Grant said simply. He lifted the prosthetic — the joints clicked with lifelike precision, fingers flexing as if alive. "Adaptive neural prosthesis. Designed to synchronise with your bioelectric pattern. It'll respond to your thoughts, your instincts."
Billy's voice was low. "So I can fight again."
"So you can be more than human," Grant corrected, eyes narrowing slightly. "The academy would rather you heal and move on. I see potential — raw, untamed, dangerous. Potential that shouldn't be wasted."
Grant studied Billy for a long moment, then placed the arm on the bed beside him. "There's a darkness in you, Lad. I can see it — and if you learn to use it, you'll be God!. Never lose to anyone again."
Billy's jaw tightened. "You don't know what it's like."
Grant smiled faintly. "Don't I?"
He leaned closer. "You think strength comes from light? No. It comes from what you survive. Take the arm, Billy. Accept what you are. Become what the others fear to be."
For a moment, the room seemed to close in — the hum of the prosthetic mingling with the pounding of Billy's heart. He looked down at the bandaged stump, then at the metallic arm, gleaming like a promise and a curse.
His reflection shimmered in the steel — a fractured version of himself staring back.
"Will it make me stronger?" he whispered.
Grant nodded once. "Stronger than you've ever imagined.Cadet"
Billy's hand trembled as he reached for the arm.
The cold metal met his skin — and the lights flickered.
Somewhere deep within, something stirred. A pulse of dark energy, faint but undeniable.
Grant's smile widened, cold and satisfied.
"Ready to become a God, Cadet."
Outside, thunder rolled over the academy's towers — and for the first time since the battle, Billy didn't feel broken.
He felt alive.
---
The cafeteria was buzzing when Elena and Scarlett walked in. The air smelled of fried bread and coffee — the kind of smell that could make anyone forget the chaos of the morning.
Trays clattered, voices overlapped, and a few students showed off their newly awakened abilities with childish pride — sparks of flame flickering in palms, a gust of wind sending napkins flying.
Scarlett and Elena slid into a corner booth, trays barely touched.
Scarlett poked at her food, still replaying the earlier lesson. "I can only jump a few feet, Elena. It's pathetic."
Elena gave her a reassuring grin. "Hey, it's still something. Better than shouting at people, stand still so I can shoot ya!, like me."
They laughed — light, real laughter — until a shadow loomed over their table.
A tall boy from their class stood there, arms crossed, a smug smile on his face. "You're the teleporter, yeah? Thought you looked fancy in class. How about a challenge?"
Scarlett blinked, caught off guard. "Now? We literally just finished eating."
He shrugged. "Pussy?"
Elena was already on her feet, her expression hardening. "She's not scared, She will wipe the floor with you. You just don't know what she's capable of."
Scarlett sighed, standing reluctantly. "Fine. Five minutes, outside."
The cafeteria erupted with interest, half the students abandoning their meals to follow them out to the training yard.
---
Outside, the rain was coming down hard. A faint wind stirred the droplet's as Scarlett and her challenger faced each other in the open courtyard.
The boy cracked his knuckles, his smirk widening. "Name's Ryder. Try to keep up."
Scarlett took a deep breath and nodded. "I've got this."
Sergeant Smith stood nearby, overseeing the impromptu duel with folded arms. "Standard challenge rules. No serious injuries. Begin."
Ryder slammed his fist into the ground — a shockwave rippled through the dirt, sending Scarlett stumbling. Before she could regain her footing, stone fragments shot up from the ground, forming jagged spikes that forced her to teleport aside.
Scarlett reappeared a few feet to the left, panting. She tried to blink behind him, but Ryder was already turning, sweeping his leg. A wall of compact earth rose like a wave, catching her mid-step and sending her tumbling across the dirt.
Elena shouted, "Scarlett!"
Scarlett coughed, pushing herself up. Her knees were scraped, hair matted with dust — but she still grinned. "Not blady done yet."
She vanished again — a blur of blue light — reappearing just behind him. She swung a punch that barely grazed Ryder's shoulder before he stomped down, the ground beneath her feet turning to quicksand-like sludge. Scarlett yelped "shit" as she sank to her knees.
Ryder smiled coldly. "Guess teleporting doesn't help much when you've got nowhere to land."
Sergeant Smith stepped forward, hand raised. "That's enough! Match over."
Scarlett scowled, embarrassed, wriggling in the dirt from her waist up. Ryder offered a mock salute and walked away to cheers from his friends.
Elena ran over, helping her out the mud. "You alright?"
Scarlett nodded, jaw tight. "Yeah. Next time, I'll make the prick eat that grin."
Smith's tone softened. "That's the spirit. You've both got raw potential — just need focus. And tomorrow, you'll get some of that."