The sun hung high in the sky, casting long rays of light over the twisted metal and shattered glass at the crash site. It was 2 PM, but the air felt heavy—like time had stopped at the moment of impact. The detective stood near the wreck, his coat brushing against the ash-dusted ground. Behind him, a young boy wrapped in a blanket sat silently by the ambulance, eyes closed but body trembling.
"Hey, kid… you up?" the detective said softly, stepping toward him.
Zuko's eyes fluttered open. His face twisted with confusion before panic struck him like a bolt of lightning. He lunged forward, grabbing the detective's collar with small, shaking hands.
"Huh? That was a dream, right? Please… please tell me my parents are okay. Please…" His voice cracked, and hot tears streamed down his cheeks, soaking into the detective's shirt.
The detective knelt, steadying the boy with both hands. "Hey… calm down. What's your name, kid? How old are you?"
"Zuko Virell," the boy choked out. "I'm seven."
The detective's expression darkened for a moment as a thought crossed his mind. So… he just got his powers today.
He swallowed the thought and gave Zuko a sad, steady look. "To answer your question, kid… no. It wasn't a dream."
Zuko's knees buckled. His tears intensified, and before the detective could catch him, he collapsed again—his small body overwhelmed by grief.
A nearby officer stepped forward. "Want me to take him to the doctor?"
The detective shook his head. "No. I'll take him myself."
The exam room was dim, lit only by a sliver of sunlight peeking through the blinds. The doctor, a seasoned man with gray streaks in his hair and tension in his eyes, stood by the door when the detective arrived.
"Doc, is he okay?" the detective asked, his voice low but concerned.
The doctor gave a long sigh. "Physically? Yes. But… his power…" He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at the chart in his hands. "It's terrifying."
"What is it?"
The doctor's hands trembled slightly. "I'll… explain it when he wakes up."
Zuko stirred. The world felt distant—like he was underwater. Slowly, he sat up, his limbs heavy. On the table beside him sat a crumpled piece of paper. Drawn by some invisible pull, he reached for it.
His fingers brushed the page. The ink was rushed, the handwriting barely legible in spots. He squinted, reading the title:
Zuko Virell – Power Analysis.
His heart thumped harder in his chest. He kept reading, whispering the words aloud:
"Altered Vitality… vampiric traits… drains life force…"
Each word hit him like a dagger. His lips trembled as he continued.
"Power source amplifies through absorption of life energy. Strength, speed, and durability scale with intake. Vital Requiem: A full transformation resulting in massive uncontrollable power and rapid deterioration of surroundings. Risk: Extremely high."
Zuko's breath caught in his throat.
He blinked hard, trying to keep reading, but the rest of the paper blurred. His hands shook violently.
"No… no, this isn't real," he whispered. "I—I'm not a monster…"
But deep down, something inside him told him it was true. The energy stirring in his veins felt… wrong. Hungry.
He looked up at the reflective window across the room—and there it was.
The faint outline of a batwing-shaped tattoo, curling up from his shoulder to the base of his neck. His gift… his curse.
The TV hanging on the far wall flashed on with breaking news. Zuko turned, eyes red and puffy, just in time to see the face of the Number 10 hero: Overdrive.
Zuko froze.
The screen showed the wreckage again. The same wreckage he was pulled from.
Zuko's breathing quickened.
"You… you're the reason this happened," he muttered.
He dropped the paper. His knees hit the cold floor. He stared ahead, his body trembling.
Then, something inside him… broke.
A dark laugh escaped his lips. Quiet at first, then deeper, colder. His eyes shimmered—once bright and tearful, now glowing red with something else.
"I'll kill you, Overdrive," he whispered, smiling through the pain. "For taking my mommy and my daddy."
Without another word, Zuko turned to the window, unlatched it, and slipped outside into the alleyway—swallowed by shadow before anyone knew he was gone.
The doctor returned minutes later, holding a clipboard.
"I think it's time to go in," he said. "Come, detective."
They entered the room—only to find it empty. The paper lay on the floor, fluttering slightly from the breeze drifting in through the open window.
The detective's eyes widened. "Zuko…"
He pulled out his phone. "We need a full unit. The boy's gone. Repeat, the boy is gone."
"I need to go look for him," he told the doctor.
The doctor nodded, worry etched across his face. "Be careful."
"Dom. Wake up. We're at the airport," Rae said, nudging the boy beside her.
Dom groaned, stretching his arms. A yawn escaped his lips as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Rae handed him a bundle of clothes. "Put these on. Meet me inside."
Dom got dressed quickly. A black fitted shirt clung to his frame, paired with baggy black training pants. A white belt wrapped tightly around his waist, and black Air Forces completed the look. He slung a simple black hoodie over his shoulders and jogged inside the terminal.
They approached a desk, where a green-haired woman with soft brown eyes looked up.
"Hello, may I ask where you're going today?"
Rae leaned in and whispered, "Silent Queen."
The woman's eyes widened. "Oh—my apologies. Your private jet is ready."
They made their way down the tarmac to a sleek black aircraft waiting for them.
As they boarded, Rae glanced at Dom. "You hungry?"
Dom nodded. "Starving."
Rae called over an attendant and ordered two pizzas. As they ate in silence, Rae reached into her bag and pulled out a small folder.
"Here," she said, sliding it over to Dom. "This is the power granted to you by your tattoo."
Dom opened it and read the paper carefully. His eyes widened.
"No way… this is real?"
Rae nodded. "It is. What would you like to name it?"
Dom stared at the glowing tattoo etched across his face—an angelic wing starting at his forehead and ending at his cheek.
He took a deep breath.
"Psychic Magnify," he said firmly. "It just feels… right."
Rae smiled softly. "It does. It matches you. It matches everything you're about to become."
Dom, what am I about to become? He says brightly
Two hours had passed since the private jet had taken off, cutting through the clouds with silent power. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow across the runway as the aircraft gently touched down in Georgia.
Rae stretched her arms as she stood, her expression calm but alert. She glanced over at Dom, who had been silently staring out the window.
"We've landed," she said.
Dom's eyes lit up as he hopped off the plane, stepping onto the tarmac with wonder in his eyes. He took a deep breath.
"My home…" he whispered to himself, a small smile forming on his face.
Before Rae could say another word, a blur of color darted toward them from the airport entrance.
"Rae! Rae! Rae!" a voice shouted breathlessly.
A girl with vibrant blue hair sprinted toward them, practically tripping over her own feet. She skidded to a halt, panting heavily. Then—collapsing in front of them—she dropped to her knees, catching her breath as if she'd just run a marathon.
Rae crossed her arms, amused. "Still haven't figured out how to pace yourself, Niyah?"
Narrator:
Name: Niyah Thompson
Hero Name: IQ
Gender: Female
Title: Vice Principal
Power Name: Absolute Intelligence
Power Description:
Niyah Thompson, known as IQ, possesses Absolute Intelligence—a power that grants her unmatched mental clarity and processing speed. She can comprehend any concept, strategy, or system in seconds, and predict outcomes with terrifying accuracy. Whether it's engineering, battle tactics, or human emotion, Niyah's mind pieces it all together like a perfect puzzle. But the cost is steep—her thoughts never slow down, and the endless stream of knowledge leaves her in a constant state of mental overload. It's no surprise she's a little clumsy. Her brain is too busy running a thousand calculations to remember where her feet are.
Niyah shoved her glasses back onto her nose and stood straight, saluting awkwardly. "Yes, Miss Rae!"
Rae raised a brow. "How's my school?"
Niyah grinned. "Amazing! Fantastic! Running smoother than ever!" Her words came in a flurry. "Well—aside from that little incident with the cafeteria robot exploding—"
Rae cut her off with a look.
Niyah cleared her throat, then noticed Dom standing behind Rae. She squinted, adjusting her glasses again. "Uh… who's the kid?"
Rae smiled gently. "This is Dom. My adopted son."
Niyah's jaw nearly hit the tarmac. "You… adopted a kid?!"
"Yes," Rae replied matter-of-factly. "And I'm taking him home."
Niyah blinked rapidly. "Home? But Miss—there's paperwork you need to fill out!"
"I'll do it tomorrow," Rae said, already walking toward the sleek black Bugatti parked nearby. "Let me spend time with my kid."
"But, Miss Rae—"
Rae turned, placing a finger gently on Niyah's lips. "Shhh."
Niyah blinked. "Be quiet. Got it."
Dom climbed into the passenger seat of the Bugatti, staring in awe at the sleek interior. The car purred like a beast waking from slumber. It was jet-black, with a detailed eye design painted across the hood.
They pulled out of the airport and down the smooth Georgia roads.
A few minutes later, they arrived at a towering mansion surrounded by tall trees and steel gates. Dom's eyes widened.
"We're staying here?" he asked, stunned.
Rae stepped out and stretched. "Of f***ing course," she said with a laugh, walking up the steps and unlocking the door.
She led Dom through the lavish interior—wide marble halls, crystal chandeliers, walls lined with portraits of great heroes and ancient relics. Eventually, she stopped at a room with a soft bed, a window view of the forest, and shelves already stocked with books and training gear.
"This is your room," Rae said. "You like it?"
Dom nodded slowly. "Yeah… it's amazing."
She ruffled his hair. "Hey, kid. You wanna take martial arts classes?"
Dom's eyes lit up again. "Yes!"
Rae smiled. "Alright, I'll sign you up in the morning."
She leaned against the doorway. "Goodnight, son."
Dom looked at her with a warmth in his eyes he hadn't felt in years. "Goodnight, Rae."
She gave him a wink and closed the door softly behind her, leaving Dom in the silence of his new home—safe, warm, and no longer lost but found.