A spark of recognition, two entities similar but different, alike but not. The entities saw each other, a meeting that could not be understood, too vast to fully comprehend. The wave of acknowledgment spread across the universe, too vast for minds to understand.

  And yet, it reached... Him.

  Eyes snapped open, hands fumbling in a room absent of light. His heart raced in a way that didn't match the usual dread of waking in the dark. The air felt thick, charged, as though something unseen was hovering just at the edge of his senses. 'What the fuck was that??'

  Something had changed.

  In that one moment, the future of the world distorted itself into something neither insignificant nor easily dismissed, barely noticeable but undeniable.

  But the world wasn't, no couldn't be the same anymore

  ***

  I bounced my feet as my mind occupied itself with the strange dream I had earlier today, the lunchroom bustled with activity, students eager to talk more than eat. How could they be so…oblivious? The world had shifted, twisted, like it was slipping through my fingers and I–

  "Hey Jack !" An offending smack resounded in the atmosphere, the charged air not quite as thick anymore but still undeniably apparent. My eyes snapped towards the source — A teenage boy sporting a goofy grin. Not being one bit as amused as he apparently was, I shot him a dry look. 'Glad at least one of us is having a good day'. In one hand clutched a textbook while the other was slowly unfurling itself, like the world itself moved in slow motion… 'Wait, since when was everything so slow–

  Mack smirked, nudging me with his shoulder. "Look at you. You're like a walking existential crisis. What's next? You gonna start contemplating the meaning of life?" I shot him a glare, but his grin didn't falter. "Hey, don't shoot the messenger. If you're planning to have a meltdown, at least warn me so I can get popcorn." I could tell by the way he was grinning that he'd never take anything seriously unless it was absolutely necessary. I couldn't tell if that was a good thing or bad thing currently.

  But I couldn't blame him either, really– what was I supposed to say? 'Hey, I think I have superpowers now, gotten straight from a strange dream I had last night.' I rolled my eyes a little at the thought, like that would go over well.

  "We got class in a few, I got my textbook if you want to study for a bit." Study? The idea was laughable. I could barely focus, let alone prepare for a test. The world had shifted in a way that felt impossible, and here he was, asking if I wanted to study like nothing had changed. Mack chuckled a bit, catching the dawning horror on my face. I shot another weak glare at him, not really in the mood for jokes.

  "You forgot to study didn't you?"

  "..."

  This day just keeps getting better and better.

  ***

  Mask? Check. Stupid costume? Check. Dreams of heroism and a high chance of getting myself (or someone else) killed? Yep, Im fucked.'

  The void of the night reverberated an almost eerie calm, crawling under my skin, not so much unnerving as keeping me alert. I knew what I was about to do was stupid but I couldn't stop, not now.

  Not when I was about to take the plunge.

  "Let's get this over with," I muttered under my breath, half hoping the words wouldn't be what sealed my fate, but fear not, I wasn't backing down.

  If you asked me, I'd probably have trouble explaining why I thought punching people in the face was a viable solution to anything. Maybe because I was a teenager, and I'd seen way too many movies where the underdog made it big. But here's the thing—I'm sure I'm not the only idiot teenager who thinks like this. Like acting like a hero is supposed to solve something, anything.

  My arms flexed, stretching with the power of something I didn't fully understand yet, like a wire pulled too tight, ready to snap. A small popping noise cut through the air as it twisted from the motion. The aftereffects of the inhuman amount of pushups I'd done earlier pulsed through my muscles, but even that seemed to fade, strengthening with each second. I was getting stronger, far more quickly than any normal human had any right to. But I wasn't normal anymore was I?

  The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath– one, two – and exhaled, it felt calming, almost meditative. The idea of what I was becoming frightened me a bit, I couldn't lie, having powers felt good, but feeling good and being good were two different things.

  Riding that same high of calm I closed my eyes again and expanded my senses or at least that's what I thought I was doing. It was difficult to explain, it was like the world opened itself to me, welcomed me and allowed me to understand and feel what was happening. I let it expand, to fill the atmosphere, doing my best to filter out any unnecessary 'noise.' It wasn't long till my 'sense' made soft snoring make itself known to me. A reminder that filled me with guilt. 'Mom is definitely not going to be happy with this.'

  I opened my eyes again, sharpening them to determination. My clumsy hands fumbled around my face for a moment before securing an old cycling helmet in place—translucent visor covering my eyes, a black cloth covering the bottom half of my face. The rest of my body was dressed in a tight, bright jumpsuit, almost like a certain ninja's getup—tight in the right places and loose in the wrong ones. A painted blue "S" sat in the center of my chest. It wasn't much, but it was mine.

  I wasn't sure I was ready. Hell, I was pretty sure I wasn't. But the world wasn't going to wait for me to figure things out.

  Air hit my face as I reached the window opening. I felt my legs tighten, power building in them. Moments later, the grass softened beneath me as I landed—no dent, no impact— simply because I didn't want there to be any.

  It was almost too easy. I didn't fully understand what my powers were, but they seemed to grow stronger each passing day. Without another thought, I shot into the night, ready to face whatever came next.

  'Ive been walking for hours!' Crime did happen especially in a place like Brockton Bay but it wasn't quite as common as people thought, at least not in the open. I don't know what I expected and it's very conflicting to feel bad that there was no crime.

  Traitorous thoughts continued to fill up my mind until something wormed its way into my sense, a short scream that would have been easily dismissable if the wrong person was paying attention. I sprung to action, moving like a bullet streaming its way to its target. Moving fast was the right option, it usually always is but I don't know if I was ready to witness what I was moving to.

  "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!"

  A woman's voice, thick with panic and desperation. Tears stained her face as she looked at me—at the weirdo in the stupid costume. I probably looked like a joke to her, but to her credit, I didn't blame her for the reaction. She was surrounded by men, their eyes narrowing as they sized me up. There was nothing remotely surprised in their gazes, just… calculation. "Who the hell are you?" One of the men's accents was thick, unmistakably sharp. Another man in the group scoffed, his grin wide. "I think we got ourselves a hero here."

  No. I couldn't be a hero. Not with what I was seeing.

  I tried not to think about what would've happened if I hadn't been there. If I hadn't shown up. A single detail punched through my thoughts, making my blood run hot. I'd almost missed it, but now that I saw it, I couldn't unsee it- The woman's pants were down.

  I clenched my fists, my vision going white with rage. Before I even realized it, I was moving. Flesh hit flesh. Bone cracked. Blood sprayed as the group of men buckled under my assault. It happened so fast, so violently, I barely had time to process what I was doing before it was done.

  They barely had time to scream.

  "A cape!" one man shouted. "Shoot him, fucking shoot him!" another resounded. A small object impacted my body, but I barely felt it, I knew it was there, I could feel it was there but I didn't feel it.

  They didn't have time for another shot.

  I didn't stop even after some of the men begged for mercy, even after bone met unforgiving fists, I didn't stop, I couldn't stop, it was so easy. I barely had to strain myself, barely had to move. Before I knew it, bodies littered the floor, blood dripping from my exposed fists. The woman I had been here to save was frozen in crippling fear. My ragged breaths like a symphony of a bad horror film.

  I glanced at her, momentarily confused. 'Why is she scared?' I'd saved her, hadn't I? But no—she wasn't afraid of the men. She was terrified of me.

  'What have I done?' The thought slithered into my mind, twisting into rising panic. 'It happened so fast.' But no matter how I tried to rationalize it, it didn't change what had happened.

  There are consequences to playing hero—and it turns out, I wasn't as ready as I thought.