The scent of grilled meat still lingered in the air.
Mark sat at the dining table, freshly showered, hair still damp, a wide grin tugging at the corners of his lips. He tapped his foot restlessly against the chair leg, jittery from a mix of adrenaline and excitement. The energy buzzing in his body wasn't just nerves this time — it was real. It was him.
He had powers now.
Finally.
Stephen sat beside him, unusually relaxed, picking at a piece of bread while eyeing his brother with a kind of quiet amusement. He was used to Mark being dramatic, but tonight? He'd earned it.
Across from them, Debbie hummed softly as she moved between the kitchen and the table, her movements light. Nolan sat with arms folded, still dressed in his usual shirt and slacks, fresh from wherever he'd disappeared to after the restaurant.
"Mom, Dad," Mark blurted out, unable to hold it anymore. "I have something to tell you."
Debbie turned, eyebrows raised, a spoon still dripping sauce. Nolan looked over with a barely-there tilt of his head, expression unreadable.
"I got my powers."
The spoon hit the edge of the pot with a clink.
For a beat, no one said anything. Then:
"Oh my god," Debbie gasped, and immediately rushed over to hug him, nearly knocking her chair aside. "Mark! That's amazing!"
Mark let out a laugh, sheepish but giddy. "Yeah. Kinda just… happened."
Nolan raised a brow, leaning slightly forward. "When?"
"Earlier today. After school. I was taking out the trash at work, and, uh… the bag went to space."
Stephen gave a small snort.
"I'm serious!" Mark said. "It flew. Like, really flew. And then I punched a wall when I got home." He gestured at the nearby drywall, where a new, baseball-sized dent cracked the paint. "That wasn't there this morning."
Nolan stood up slowly, approached the wall, and pressed two fingers to the dent. His eyes flicked between the hole and his son, but he didn't say anything yet.
Debbie, however, was still beaming. "I knew it. I told you it would happen. Didn't I say it, honey?" She looked at Nolan, who gave a small nod.
"Seventeen and five months," Nolan murmured. "Later than I expected, but... still within range."
Stephen's voice cut in smoothly. "Seems like I won't be far behind."
Everyone turned.
Stephen sat back, balancing a spoon lazily in front of him — but his fingers weren't touching it. The spoon hovered in place, wobbling slightly, cradled in a shimmer of invisible energy. He waved a hand gently, and it settled onto the table without a sound.
Debbie blinked. "Wait... What was that?"
"I've been practicing," Stephen said, smiling. "Started a few days ago. Still small-scale stuff."
Mark's eyes widened. "You're serious?"
Stephen nodded. "Tactile telekinesis. It's not flying or punching holes through drywall, but... it's something."
There was silence. Not heavy. Not tense. But... aware.
Nolan didn't move. His face remained impassive, but Stephen saw the way his fingers tensed slightly on the back of the chair.
Stephen gave him a subtle nod, though his eyes remained thoughtful. "Maybe soon, we'll both be out there with Dad, helping protect this family."
The room grew quiet, each family member processing the magnitude of the evening's revelations. Nolan remained very still, his expression carefully neutral, though his knuckles whitened slightly on the chair back.
Stephen's voice softened, the quiet resolve in his tone unsettling in its seriousness. "When I awaken fully... I promise to protect all of you."
It should've sounded like a sweet, childish declaration. But it didn't. Something in his voice — calm, measured, certain — carried weight.
Mark, still high off his own breakthrough, laughed it off. "You'll be the backup plan. Just stay behind me when the meteors hit."
Stephen didn't laugh.
"No," he said. "I'll protect this family. No matter the threat." looking Nolan in the eye.
That made Mark pause. His smirk faltered, just a little. "Dude, it's not that serious. What, you think I'm gonna go full supervillain or something?"
Stephen shrugged. "Statistically, it happens. Powers make people unstable."
Debbie gently interrupted, sensing the heaviness settling upon them. "Boys, let's enjoy tonight. Both of you are growing into amazing individuals. Powers or not, family comes first."
Nolan finally reclaimed his seat, nodding slowly. "You're both progressing. That's what truly matters."
But his mind... wasn't in the room anymore.
Two sons.
One, a late-blooming half - Viltrumite who'd just awakened flight and strength.
The other, a hybrid anomaly with powers no Viltrumite had ever seen, this was not in the report.
Nolan stared at Stephen a moment longer, then nodded to himself — small, imperceptible. He would watch him more closely now. Guide him where he could. Delay the mission if necessary. But the moment would come.
Just... not yet.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Later that night, Mark stood outside.
The house was quiet. Upstairs, Stephen was likely still experimenting with his coin tricks. Inside, his mom was reading. His dad had disappeared into the study.
But Mark couldn't sit still.
He stepped out onto the roof, barefoot. The shingles were cold, but the night air was clear, filled with stars. The city lights glimmered faintly on the horizon.
He looked up.
The sky was huge.
He felt his pulse hammering in his chest. His hands shook, not from fear — but from uncertainty.
What if it was a fluke? What if I can't do it again?
He took a breath, deep and trembling, filling his lungs with the chill of the night. Another followed, steadier this time. Without another thought to hold him back, he stepped forward until his toes curled over the very edge of the building.
And he jumped.
For a heartbeat, his world became nothing but panic—his stomach twisted, the wind shrieked past him, raw and biting against his skin. Gravity clawed desperately at his limbs, dragging him down toward the earth.
Then, everything shifted.
His body lifted, carried by a force both exhilarating and impossibly gentle. It wasn't the harsh tug of a parachute or the sudden jerk of a safety line—this was effortless, fluid, pure freedom. Mark soared upward, his heartbeat roaring in sync with the rushing wind.
Laughter exploded from his chest, untamed and joyous, swallowed instantly by the vast open sky. The wind surged around him, cool fingers brushing through his hair, rippling his clothes. He stretched his arms wide, embracing the limitless space around him, testing the subtle shifts in the air as he tilted his body.
He shot forward, clumsy at first, adjusting quickly, each movement becoming more instinctive than deliberate. The sensation was intoxicating, electric—this was flight, genuine and unbound, exactly as he'd dreamed.
Higher and higher he climbed, the ground beneath him rapidly fading into miniature shapes. Buildings became indistinct flecks of light, roads stretching into delicate, glittering threads woven through the darkness. The city transformed below him, a tapestry of constellations, alive and radiant against the velvet night.
He felt infinite, unshackled, soaring through a sky that belonged entirely to him.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Inside the house, Stephen sat awake in his room, practicing telekinesis. Coins floated gently, rotating in careful circles. He considered his brother, sensing something profound had happened outside.
Downstairs, Nolan sat alone, staring quietly at family photographs displayed along the mantle—images of Debbie laughing, Mark grinning, Stephen thoughtful. A strange ache tightened his chest.
These humans had complicated everything. They had forced him to feel, to care, to reconsider his purpose.
A flash of something, hearing his first son, experimenting, a small curve took it's place by his lips, only to quickly settle, *sign* with that he took off to the sky, watching from a distance encase anything.
_ _ ♛ _ _
Mark Pov
He didn't mean to rise that far, but the rush of it pulled him. The thrill. The freedom. He didn't want to stop, the stars shimmer, he felt small in the grand scheme of the world's makeup, yet so beautiful, the wind brushing and guiding his movement, it was too intoxicating..
Then—
A shadow.
A flash of movement, that pushed against the very wind guiding him.
A rumble.
Something massive shot past him. Mark barely registered the scream of engines as the wing of a passenger jet cut within meters of him, as if to let him know, he didn't own these skies.
Panic seized his chest.
I'm too high.
The air thinned. His ears popped. The cold bit deeper into his skin. His breath became shallow, he flipped through the sky with no control, rising higher and higher.
Then — silence.
Everything faded.
Mark's body went limp. The stars swirled. Then—
Black.
_ _ ♛ _ _
He didn't know how long he was unconscious.
When his eyes opened, the world was rushing toward him.
The ground.
Fast.
A scream tore from his throat. The sky roared in his ears. His limbs flailed — uncoordinated, graceless.
I'm going to die.
The earth surged closer.
Then something inside him snapped.
His arms moved instinctively. His body twisted midair. He extended his legs, angled his torso. Felt the air.
And suddenly... he wasn't falling anymore.
He was gliding.
The wind wrapped around him again. He controlled it this time. Adjusted. Balanced.
His descent slowed.
Then—
He was flying again.
Not soaring. Not rising. But steady.
Controlled.
He coasted low over rooftops, weaving gently between the trees, until he finally dropped into his backyard — knees buckling, chest heaving.
Mark fell to his back, arms spread on the cold grass.
Breathless.
Awake.
Alive.
He stared up at the stars, stunned.
His body ached. His head throbbed. But his heart was racing — in awe, in fear, in triumph.
He didn't sleep that night.
He just watched the sky.
Waiting for the sun.
'hmm, feels a little breezy down there, meh, this feels nice.'
End of Chapter 23