Chapter 40: Chapter 39: Tomorrow

Tomorrow had almost passed before Mia finally found the chance to talk to him.

By the time she reached the base, Kaleb and Neiry were already on the training mat. Kaleb stood with both hands raised, a thin ribbon of water circling his arms. His shirt was damp, his hair was stuck to his forehead, and one side of his face was red from where Neiry had apparently hit him.

"Again," Neiry ordered.

"Can you say something else?" Kaleb asked, breathing heavily. "You've been saying 'again' for almost an hour."

"You keep making the same mistake."

"I'm tired."

"You'll also get tired during a real fight."

"That doesn't mean I need to be abused in advance."

Neiry stepped forward without warning. Kaleb threw his hands up, and the water surrounding his arms rushed together into a shaky shield directly in front of him. Neiry's palm struck the center of it, and the entire shield exploded backward, dropping Kaleb onto the mat, completely soaked.

Neiry looked down at him. "Again."

"No."

"Kaleb."

"Step back, I'm invoking my rights."

Neiry laughed. "You don't have any rights on my training mat."

"See, this is why people think you're evil."

Mia laughed as she stepped into the room. Both of them turned toward her.

Kaleb lifted one hand from the floor. "Mia. Perfect timing. Please tell him training someone does not mean repeatedly hitting them until they develop the instincts."

"It worked for me."

Kaleb slowly lowered his hand. "Wow."

Mia smiled. "Sorry."

"No, it's fine. I know where I stand now."

Neiry reached down and pulled Kaleb to his feet. "You did better that time."

"You say that after I give up?"

"You stopped trying to overpower the strike and redirected some of it. That was the point."

Kaleb blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yes."

A grin started spreading across his face.

"Don't look so pleased," Neiry added. "Your stance was terrible."

"And there it is."

Kaleb grabbed his towel from the edge of the mat and looked between Mia and Neiry, noticing the way Mia remained near the entrance instead of changing into her training gear. Kaleb noticed more than people gave him credit for. Sometimes he just had the good sense not to say what he noticed.

"I'm gonna check the water tanks," he said. "Since somebody made me use half of one."

"You used less than four percent," Neiry replied.

"Still checking."

Kaleb walked toward the back corridor, dragging the towel over his wet hair. Before disappearing around the corner, he glanced at Mia once. She gave him a small nod. The door slid shut behind him.

Neiry turned back toward Mia. "You aren't dressed for training."

"I didn't come to train."

His expression changed slightly. Mia walked over to the edge of the mat and sat down. For a few seconds, Neiry remained standing, almost like he was considering pretending he didn't know what this was about. Then he sat across from her.

"You wanted to talk," he said.

"Yeah."

"About Valerie."

Mia looked at him. "How did you know?"

"You've been watching me differently since the fight."

"I haven't."

"You have."

"Well, you were acting differently during the fight."

Neiry rested his arms over his knees. "I was trying to win."

"It wasn't that."

"Then what was it?"

"You know what it was."

Neiry looked away. The base suddenly felt much quieter without Kaleb in the room. The servers hummed behind the concrete walls, and somewhere in the back corridors, water moved through the pipes as Kaleb opened one of the storage tanks. Mia had spent all day thinking about how she would start this conversation. None of the versions in her head had included Neiry making her drag every sentence out of him.

"You were enjoying it," she said.

Neiry's face stayed still.

"Whenever Valerie got faster, you got more excited. You started taunting her. You kept telling her to come at you harder. I've seen you fight before, Neiry. You don't normally look like that."

"It was a sparring match."

"I know."

"She could handle more than most people."

"I know."

"I wasn't going to kill her."

"I didn't say you were."

Neiry's jaw tightened. "Then what exactly are you asking?"

Mia stared at him for a moment. "I'm asking you to stop answering questions I didn't ask."

That silenced him.

"Did you enjoy fighting her?" she asked, quieter now.

Neiry did not answer immediately. That was enough of an answer by itself, but Mia waited. His eyes moved toward the damaged section of the wall where Valerie's lightning had burned a dark line through the reinforced metal. He had repaired most of the training room, but he had left that mark.

"I did," he finally said. The words came out flat, almost annoyed.

Mia waited for him to continue. Neiry rubbed his thumb across one of his knuckles.

"I enjoyed the challenge," he said. "Valerie was fast enough that I had to pay attention. Every time I adjusted to her speed, she pushed herself harder. I wanted to see what she would do next."

"Okay."

"It wasn't just that."

Mia stayed quiet. Neiry hated this part — she could see it in the way his shoulders had gone stiff. Fighting Valerie had probably been easier for him than sitting here trying to explain why he enjoyed it.

"When she hit me, I wanted to hit her harder," he admitted. "When she stood back up, I was glad. I wanted her to keep fighting." His voice became quieter. "For a moment, I didn't care that Kaleb and you were watching. I didn't care about the training exercise. I just wanted to fight someone who wouldn't immediately break."

Mia watched his hand close into a fist.

"I enjoyed it too much."

There it was. Not the full truth — Neiry rarely gave anyone the full truth at once — but it was more than he normally allowed out.

"Are you worried that it means something?" Mia asked.

"I know what it means."

"No, you think you know what it means."

Neiry looked at her. "Mia."

"You enjoyed fighting somebody who also enjoyed fighting you. That doesn't automatically mean you're turning into whatever horrible version of yourself you're always waiting for."

"You didn't know me then."

"You're right. I didn't." The answer seemed to catch him off guard, and Mia continued before he could close himself off again. "I don't know everything you did. I don't know what you were like five hundred years ago, and I'm not going to pretend it doesn't matter just to make you feel better."

Neiry's eyes lowered.

"But you stopped yourself when Valerie couldn't continue," Mia said. "You checked on her. You helped repair the room after. Whatever enjoying the fight means, those things mean something too."

Neiry stared at the floor between them. "At times I think I could've lost control."

"But you didn't."

"I wanted to."

"But you didn't."

"You keep saying that as if it removes the problem."

"It doesn't. It just means the problem isn't the only thing that matters."

Neiry didn't respond. Mia let the silence remain. She wasn't going to force him to feel better. She wasn't even sure if making him feel better was the right thing to do — and that thought brought her back to what she had promised herself she would say.

"I get tired too," she said.

Neiry looked up. "Of fighting?"

"No. Of people." He stared at her. "That sounded worse out loud."

"A little."

"You know what I mean."

"I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"I generally try not to assume what people mean. It creates unnecessary problems."

"You assume what people mean constantly."

"Yes, but I'm usually correct."

Mia almost laughed, but the feeling disappeared before it fully reached her. She looked down at her hands.

"It feels like everybody always needs something from me," she said. "At school, at home, during missions. Someone needs help with homework. Someone needs advice. Someone's upset and wants to talk. During a mission, everyone looks at Beacon because I'm supposed to be the one who tells them they're safe."

"You're good at it."

"I know." The answer came out sharper than she intended. Neiry remained quiet. "That's what makes it worse," Mia continued. "I'm good at making people feel better, so they keep coming back. And I love my friends. I want to help people. But sometimes I see someone walking toward me with that look, and my first thought is just — please don't need anything."

She swallowed, already hating how selfish it sounded.

"Then I feel guilty because they didn't do anything wrong. They trust me. I built my entire hero identity around being someone people could trust, and now sometimes I get tired of them for doing exactly that."

Neiry looked at her differently. Not disappointed. Not shocked. He was studying her, but this time it didn't feel like he was trying to find a weakness. He was trying to understand something he had never considered.

"Why don't you tell them no?" he asked.

"Because I can't just tell someone no when they're hurting."

"You can."

"Neiry."

"You asked what I think."

"I didn't."

"You were clearly going to."

Despite herself, Mia smiled slightly.

"You act as if being capable of helping someone means you are required to help them every time," Neiry continued. "Those aren't the same thing."

"That's easy for you to say. Who knew being a hero would be so tiring."

"It isn't. I spent most of my life believing my ability to fight meant fighting was the only thing I was useful for."

Mia looked at him. He seemed to realize what he had admitted and immediately looked annoyed with himself.

"You don't have to solve everything," he said. "And if you get tired of people needing you, then help them learn how to stand without you sometimes."

"What if they can't?"

"Like I said, help them stand. Don't carry them forever."

Mia sat with that. It wasn't perfect advice. It probably wasn't even healthy advice coming from Neiry, who would rather lose an arm than ask another person to carry anything for him. But she understood what he meant.

"I don't need you to fix how I feel," she said.

Neiry nodded once. "Good, because I don't know how."

"That's probably the most honest thing you've said today."

"I told you I liked fighting Valerie."

"That was second."

He gave her a quiet, offended look. Mia leaned back on her hands. Something between them felt different — not solved, and definitely not romantic. Just slightly less hidden.

Neiry looked toward the back corridor. "You know Kaleb is probably listening."

"I know."

From behind the closed door, something metallic fell over.

"I'M NOT," Kaleb shouted.

Mia laughed. Neiry opened his mouth to respond, but all three of their communicators went off at once, the sound cutting straight through the room.

Kaleb came rushing out of the back corridor with his towel still over his head. "Okay, that one isn't me."

A red emergency symbol flashed across the main display. IRON VEIL PRIORITY RESPONSE. Neiry was already on his feet by the time the central screen switched on, revealing Agent Vance inside Sector 7's command center, several different security feeds moving behind him.

"We have an active anomalous event near Queens Plaza," Vance said. "Unregistered power-user. Approximately thirteen to sixteen years old. The subject has already caused severe structural damage across two city blocks."

One of the feeds enlarged. A boy stood in the middle of an intersection surrounded by overturned cars. He couldn't have been older than thirteen. His hospital shirt was torn, he had no shoes, and a white plastic band was wrapped around his wrist. The boy held both hands over his ears while pale blue energy violently pulsed around his body. A police officer moved toward him, and the boy screamed. The entire street exploded upward — concrete, cars, and streetlights launching into the air as if something underneath the ground had punched the city from below.

Kaleb pulled the towel from his head. "What power even is that?"

"Some kinetic repulsion," Neiry answered. "Maybe gravity."

"We don't know," Vance said. "His output changes every time it activates. Police attempted to contain him before understanding the situation. Every time the subject becomes frightened, the energy spikes."

Mia watched the boy fall to his knees on the feed. He wasn't attacking anyone. He was panicking.

"How many civilians are still there?" she asked.

"Too many. The subway entrance partially collapsed, and one residential building is beginning to lose structural support. Iron Veil units are evacuating the area, but we need someone capable of surviving close contact." Vance looked directly at Neiry. "Contain him. Alive."

Neiry's expression hardened. "We're not containing him. We're calming him down. If your agents surround him, pull them back. Every weapon and armored uniform is making it worse."

"I already gave the order."

"Good."

The team got ready, pulling their suits on. Mia's light formed over her arms and chest, and for half a second the glow flickered — the solid armor surrounding her shoulders breaking into loose particles before pulling itself back together. Mia looked down at her hands. That had been happening more often. At first it had been small — a shield taking longer to form, a light construct cracking when she wasn't tired. Now her power sometimes disappeared completely before returning like nothing had happened.

Neiry looked at her. "What?"

"I'm not sure — you just feel different. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

"If you say so."

Mia increased the light around her body until it shined normally again. "We have an emergency."

Neiry continued watching her for another second. Kaleb looked down at his wet clothes. "Can I get thirty seconds?"

"No," Neiry and Mia answered together.

Kaleb sighed and pulled his mask on. "Guys, I've been working on this and I've been wanting to try it."

Neiry opened a portal of darkness across the wall, and the three stepped through.

The first thing Mia heard when they arrived was screaming. The second was the sound of an entire city bus scraping sideways across the street. Neiry stepped out of the shadows directly in its path, planted both feet, and caught the front of the bus with one hand. The road cracked beneath him, and the bus continued pushing him backward several feet before finally stopping, its front bumper folding around his palm.

Phones immediately rose from behind the police barricades.

"Dark!"

"That's Beacon!"

"Yo, Tempest is with them!"

Kaleb looked toward the crowd for half a second. "People know my name now? Hello, people!"

"Ugh, can you please focus," Mia shouted.

"Right."

Another pale blue wave exploded from the center of the intersection. Mia flew upward and spread both arms, forming a wall of solid light between the blast and the trapped civilians. The shockwave struck, and her shield bent inward, then flickered — a section near the top disappearing completely and letting part of the blast rip through. Windows shattered behind her as she forced more mana into the construct, and the missing section rebuilt itself, but the effort sent a sharp pain through her arms.

She had blocked stronger attacks than this. Why was she already tired?

Kaleb pulled water from the broken hydrants and wrapped it across the outside of her shield, adding a flexible second layer, and the blast split around them. Mia lowered the shield quickly before either of them could see it flicker again.

Kaleb stared up at her. "You good?"

"I'm fine."

Neiry glanced toward her from across the street. He knew she was lying.

"Beacon, evacuate the eastern building. Tempest, protect the street-level civilians," Neiry said, pushing the bus away from the center of the intersection.

"What about you?" Kaleb asked.

Neiry looked toward the boy. "I'm gonna try and calm this thing down."

The boy stood alone inside a crater of broken concrete. Blue energy jumped beneath his skin in thin, glowing lines — it didn't flow naturally like Mia's light or Kaleb's water, it pushed through him in violent bursts, disappearing and returning in different places. Neiry felt it immediately, and something in him went cold.

What the hell is up with today. Infinity, please — do you know what this is?

It's unnatural, Infinity answered. It seems artificial, some manufactured kind of power.

Not technology pretending to be magic. Not a mutated ability developing naturally inside a human body. Someone had forced these powers into him, and the energy was rejecting its host.

Neiry stepped forward. The boy saw him.

"Stay back!"

Neiry stopped. "I'm not going to hurt you."

"That's what they said!"

The words made Neiry's eyes narrow. "Who?"

The boy clutched his head. "I don't know. I don't know. They said I could go home." The energy around him surged. "They said it would stop!"

A car lifted from the road and flew toward Neiry. He raised one arm, and darkness wrapped around the vehicle, stopping it less than a foot from his face before he lowered it carefully onto the pavement.

"Listen to me," Neiry said. "Whatever they did to you, I can feel it. Your body is trying to push the energy out."

The boy looked at him through bloodshot eyes. "Get it out."

"I need you to calm down first."

"I can't — it hurts, please, it hurts!"

Another blast erupted from him. Neiry crossed his arms as the force struck his body and launched him backward, crashing him through the side of a delivery truck, metal folding around him.

"Dark!" Mia shouted.

Neiry tore himself out of the ruined truck. "I'm fine."

"That didn't look fine!"

"It was mostly the truck."

Mia wanted to argue, but the eastern apartment building groaned above her, a section of the fire escape ripping away from the wall as people screamed below. Before she could move, a girl pushed through the crowd and ran directly toward them — curly black hair pulled back from her face, a bright orange jacket, and absolutely no protection from the falling metal above her.

"Move!" Carol shouted. She grabbed a little boy standing frozen on the sidewalk and threw both of them behind a parked car just as the fire escape crashed down where they had been standing. Carol rolled across the pavement, pushed herself up, and looked at the boy.

"You okay?"

He nodded quickly.

"Good. Go toward the police."

"What about you?"

Carol looked toward the damaged apartment. More people were still trying to get out. "I'm gonna help them." She ran toward the building.

Mia landed in front of her. "You need to leave."

Carol almost crashed into her. Up close, Mia realized she recognized her from school — Carol was in the grade above them and was almost always talking loudly enough to be heard from another hallway.

Carol stared at Beacon for one second. "Okay, you're really cool."

The building groaned again. Carol immediately pointed toward one of the windows. "There's a woman still on the second floor. She can't get down because part of the stairs collapsed. Two kids went back inside for their dog, and that man over there has been holding his arm like it's broken for five minutes."

Mia looked at her. "How do you know all that?"

"I was just in there."

Another piece of concrete broke loose above them, and Mia raised one hand, a shield of light appearing over both their heads. The concrete crashed into it — and instead of shattering against the shield, broke straight through. Carol grabbed Mia by the arm as they both jumped aside, the concrete slamming into the sidewalk and covering them in dust.

Mia stared at the fading pieces of light around her hand. That should've held.

Carol coughed and pushed herself upright. "Okay. Slightly less cool. What's the point of a superhero without their powers?"

"Are you hurt?"

"No." Carol looked toward the damaged building. "But I think your glowing thing isn't working."

The structure groaned again, and a woman screamed from the second-floor window. Mia flew toward her, but halfway up, the light surrounding her body flickered out and she dropped several feet — until a sudden burst of air exploded beneath her, launching her upward and through the broken window. She rolled across the apartment floor, stopping beside the trapped woman.

For a second, Mia forgot about the collapsing building. She looked back through the window. She hadn't created that gust on purpose. She didn't even know she could.

"M-my leg," the woman cried.

Mia forced herself to focus. "It's okay. I'm getting you out." She reached for her light again. Nothing happened. A cold pressure moved through the room instead, the loose papers and dust around her feet spinning in a small circle. Mia closed her eyes and pulled harder until a weak glow finally formed around her hands, using it to lift the debris pinning the woman's leg.

Outside, Carol was still moving civilians toward the police line. She didn't know what caused the destruction. She didn't know whether the building would collapse or whether another blast would strike. She had simply seen someone who needed help and moved.

Across the street, Kaleb used a stream of water to pull two civilians out from beneath a collapsed metal awning. "Come on," he muttered, straining to hold it up. "Come on, come on—" A woman crawled free, and Kaleb released the water, the awning hitting the ground with a violent crash.

"Tempest!" an Iron Veil agent shouted. "We found another energy source north of the intersection."

Kaleb looked over. "Another kid?"

"Unknown. It disappeared before we could isolate it."

Neiry heard them from the crater, his attention shifting away from the boy for only a fraction of a second. He felt it — a weak pulse of dormant energy somewhere above the street. It was nothing compared to the violent energy inside the boy. It wasn't active or even fully awake, more like something reaching toward magic without understanding what it was reaching for.

Neiry turned toward a parking structure across from the plaza. Someone stood on the third level.

Marjory.

She was partly hidden behind a concrete pillar with a notebook pressed against her chest, a homemade scanner sitting on the ledge in front of her, its screen flashing with the same blue frequency surrounding the boy. Printed maps covered the ground near her feet, each one showing a different recent incident marked with circles and handwritten notes.

She wasn't running toward the injured civilians like Carol. She wasn't running away either. She was watching the energy — studying when it spiked, studying where it moved, studying the lines burning beneath the boy's skin. Marjory moved closer to the ledge, eyes locked on her scanner, and Neiry felt the dormant mana around her pulse again. Not because she was using it. Because something inside her was reacting to what she saw.

Marjory looked up. For a second, her eyes met Dark's from across the destroyed street. She froze.

Neiry didn't move toward her. He didn't call out or let Kaleb know one of their classmates was watching. He only memorized where she stood.

Then the boy screamed again. The blue energy surrounding him suddenly changed direction, collapsing inward instead of exploding outward, and Neiry turned back immediately. The boy lifted several feet from the ground, his back arching as the energy forced itself through his nervous system.

Mia flew down from the building with the injured woman in her arms, the light surrounding them flickering repeatedly and forcing her to land harder than she intended. Carol immediately ran over and helped the woman toward the barricade.

"Something's wrong!" Mia shouted.

"His body can't hold it," Neiry said.

Kaleb ran toward them. "How do we get it out?"

Neiry looked at the glowing lines beneath the boy's skin. There were too many — the mana had spread through his entire body, attaching itself to his organs and nervous system. This wasn't an accident. Someone had measured the exact amount of power a human child could survive and then deliberately gone past it.

"Beacon, create a barrier around us," Neiry ordered. "Tempest, flood the ground."

Kaleb stared at him. "You want water near unstable energy?"

"I need something to absorb the force when I pull it out."

"I've never seen you do that. Can you pull it out?"

"I don't know."

"That is not the answer I wanted."

Mia landed beside them. "What do you need me to do?"

"Keep the blast inside."

She looked at the boy, then at the damaged street surrounding them, her arms already shaking. "If I can't?"

Neiry looked at her differently. He could feel the change in her mana even more clearly now. Her light wasn't disappearing because she was exhausted — the energy inside her was shifting away from it, trying to become something else every time she forced it back.

"You can," Neiry said. "But stop trying to make it work the same way."

"What does that mean?"

"I can't coach you word for word right now. Your mana is changing."

The boy screamed as another wave of blue energy tore across his body.

"We don't have time for this!" Mia shouted.

"I know. Use whatever your body is trying to give you."

"I don't know what it's trying to give me!"

"Neither do I."

"That isn't helpful!"

"I'm aware."

Kaleb was already spreading water across the street. Neiry moved toward the boy, and Mia raised both hands, forcing her light outward. Several layers formed around them, and they flickered.

"Don't let them take me back," the boy whispered.

Neiry stopped in front of him. "I won't." He grabbed the boy's wrist.

The artificial energy reacted instantly, tearing across Neiry's arm and burning through his glove, splitting the skin beneath it. Darkness pulled from his body in response, wrapping around the boy without crushing him, and the boy screamed as the entire intersection disappeared inside blue light.

Mia's first barrier shattered instantly. The second flickered out. The final layer bent around them as cracks raced across its surface.

"Hold it!" Neiry shouted.

"I'M TRYING!"

The final barrier broke, and for half a second, the blast was free. Mia felt everyone behind her — Kaleb, the injured civilians, Carol, the people crowded behind the police line because they trusted Beacon to stand between them and whatever was coming. Her light was gone. But something else was there. The same pressure she had felt inside the apartment pushed against her chest, filled her lungs, moved beneath her skin, pulled at every loose object surrounding her.

Mia threw her arms forward. The air around the intersection twisted, and pink mana exploded from her hands, curving around the blast and dragging the surrounding air with it — dust, water, and broken glass spinning into a violent circle, bending the released energy back toward its center.

Kaleb looked up. "Mia?"

"I don't know!" she shouted. "Just keep the water inside, please, let me focus!"

He pulled the water upward, combining it with the rotating mana, the current becoming faster and wrapping around Neiry and the boy like a storm, absorbing the kinetic force each time the blue energy struck the inside of the barrier.

Neiry looked through the spinning wall. Mia wasn't using light anymore. Her entire mana signature had changed.

"Keep going!" Mia shouted.

Neiry tightened his grip on the boy's wrist. He could feel the foreign energy fighting to stay connected, roots buried throughout the boy's body, tied directly to his nerves. Neiry pulled, and the artificial energy tore loose. The blue light vanished, and the mana surrounding the intersection collapsed with it. Water crashed harmlessly across the ruined street.

For a second, there was absolute silence.

Then the boy fell. Neiry caught him before he hit the ground.

Mia dropped to her knees. Loose pieces of sunlight flickered around her arms, and every time the light tried to rebuild itself, a small pulse of the new mana scattered it apart. She quickly closed her hands before anyone could notice.

Neiry noticed. He simply didn't say anything yet.

Kaleb remained on one knee, breathing heavily as the last of the water flowed past him. "What," he managed, "just happened?"

"I don't know," Mia said, looking at her hands.

"That was pure magic."

"My light is gone, Kaleb."

"Right. Sorry."

Iron Veil medical agents rushed into the intersection. Neiry lowered the boy onto a stretcher. "His nervous system is damaged. Don't use any tight restraints."

One of the medics nodded. "Understood."

Mia stood several feet away, staring at her hand. She summoned a small sphere of light above her palm — it flickered twice before disappearing, and a thin current of pink magic curled around her fingers in its place. Mia immediately closed her fist and looked toward Neiry. He was examining the boy's medical band, but she knew him well enough to recognize when he was pretending not to watch something.

They would have to talk about it. Just not now. Not with a child on a stretcher and whoever did this still out there.

The boy's eyes opened slightly. "Don't let them take me."

Neiry stepped closer. "Iron Veil isn't taking you back to them."

The boy looked at the armored medical agents surrounding him. "They looked like that too."

Vance's voice came through Neiry's communicator. "Dark, we need the subject transported before his condition gets worse."

"Separate transport," Neiry ordered. "No agency markings and no digital patient registry until we know who we're dealing with."

"You believe someone may attempt to retrieve him?"

"I believe someone spent too much time and money putting artificial energy into his body to simply forget he exists."

Neiry looked down at the white band wrapped around the boy's wrist. Most of the writing had been scratched away, but a few black letters remained.

SUBJECT 07

Below the number was a small symbol — a circle with three vertical lines cutting through its center. Neiry had never seen it before.

The boy's eyes began closing again.

"There were others," he whispered.

Neiry leaned closer. "How many?"

The boy looked toward the number printed on his wrist. "At least six." His eyes closed, and the medics lifted the stretcher and carried him toward the transport.

Across the street, Carol was still helping civilians even though the danger had ended. Her jacket was torn, her knees were bleeding, and she was talking to a little boy while an Iron Veil medic wrapped his arm. She had gone toward the people who needed help before she knew any heroes were coming.

Above them, Marjory hurriedly collected her maps, placed her homemade scanner inside her backpack, and disappeared deeper into the parking structure before anyone could reach her. She hadn't gone toward the destruction to save anyone. She had gone because the numbers didn't make sense.

One moved toward people. The other moved toward answers.

Neiry looked at the destroyed street, the medical band, and the symbol burned into his memory. Someone had experimented on that kid. Someone had given him power his body was never meant to hold. And if the number on his wrist was correct, he wasn't the first.

He was only the seventh.