CHAPTER 10: LIVEWIRE'S SHOCKING DISTRACTION
If I thought the Red Tornado incident was a wake-up call, Livewire was a full-blown existential crisis with extra lightning. Leslie Willis, a shock jock with a voice that could curdle milk and a new, shockingly dangerous electrical power, was a living, breathing testament to the universe's ironic sense of humor. And she was making a mess of National City.
My "Primary Anchor" marker was practically a disco ball in my vision, flashing franticly. Kara was getting hammered. Livewire wasn't just powerful; she was cunning, using the city's power grid against Supergirl, turning every streetlamp into a weapon.
"Alright, Adam," I muttered, watching a live news feed showing Kara being repeatedly blasted with electricity, her suit smoking. "Enough with the parlor tricks. Enough with the subtle nudges. This is the big leagues. And my anchor is getting fried." The cold, focused fury from the Red Tornado fight returned, sharp and unwavering. When Kara was truly in danger, the playful imp vanished, replaced by something ancient and terrifying.
[THREAT LEVEL: CRITICAL. ANCHOR VITALITY: SEVERELY DEGRADED. IMMEDIATE, DIRECT INTERVENTION RECOMMENDED.]
"No kidding, System," I growled, my hands clenching. Kara was on her knees, struggling to stand, a jagged burn mark on her side. Livewire was laughing, a cruel, crackling sound. This was where my newest skill came in. Minor Biokinesis (Lvl 1).
It had been an accidental unlock, something about healing a paper cut a little too quickly. I hadn't really experimented with it beyond making my bruises fade faster. But now… now was the time.
I focused on Kara, on the raw, searing pain of the electrical currents tearing through her body. I pictured the cellular damage, the molecular instability caused by Livewire's attacks. I didn't try to make her invincible. I couldn't. But I could… mend. I could accelerate her natural healing, push her body past its limits, just enough for her to keep fighting.
[SKILL: MINOR BIOKINESIS (LVL 1). APPLICATION: ACCELERATED REGENERATION. FOCUS: TARGETED HEALING.]
The drain was immense. It felt like I was siphoning off my own life force, a direct, agonizing connection to Kara's pain. My head throbbed, my vision momentarily blurred, but I held on, pushing the energy, willing her body to recover, just a fraction faster, just a little more robustly.
On the news feed, Kara gasped, a flicker of surprise in her eyes. Her movements, which had been slowing, suddenly gained a renewed, if still weary, vigor. The burn on her side, though still present, seemed to lessen, its edges blurring. She pushed herself up, a determined glint in her eyes, and launched herself back at Livewire.
"That's my girl," I thought, my voice raspy. "Go get her."
But Biokinesis alone wouldn't win the fight. Livewire was too fast, too unpredictable. I needed more distraction. More chaos.
My eyes swept over the battlefield. Power lines, transformers, streetlights – Livewire's playground. And a particularly large, very exposed transformer, crackling with raw electricity.
[SKILL: MINOR TELEKINESIS (LVL 5). APPLICATION: ENVIRONMENTAL MANIPULATION. SKILL: SENSORY ILLUSION (LVL 3). APPLICATION: AUDITORY DISTORTION.]
I pictured the transformer, not exploding, but experiencing a sudden, dramatic overload. A localized, non-lethal, extremely loud, and very bright electrical surge. And with it, a cacophony of sound – a burst of static, a high-pitched whine, and the sound of a thousand alarm clocks going off at once.
I channeled the power, making the air around me crackle with unseen energy. The transformer pulsed, then erupted in a brilliant, blinding flash of light and a deafening shower of sparks. The simultaneous auditory assault disoriented Livewire, her powers momentarily shorting out in response to the massive, uncontrolled energy fluctuation.
Livewire shrieked, clutching her head, her electrical powers sputtering. That was Kara's opening. She seized it, tackling Livewire and slamming her into the ground, then swiftly knocking her unconscious with a precision strike.
The city cheered. Supergirl stood victorious, battered but triumphant.
I slumped into my chair, completely drained, the mansion suddenly feeling cold and empty. My body ached, a testament to the immense power I'd just wielded. But the System, ever the pragmatist, was already delivering its report.
[SKILL PROGRESS: MINOR BIOKINESIS (LVL 2). NEW ABILITY UNLOCKED: ENHANCED SELF-HEALING.][SKILL PROGRESS: MINOR TELEKINESIS (LVL 6).][ANCHOR VITALITY: RESTORED. ENGAGEMENT PROTOCOL: SUCCESS.]
Later that night, the news played clips of the fight. Kara, despite her exhaustion, spoke with newfound confidence. And Alex Danvers, in a D.E.O. press conference, looked directly into the camera, a flicker of something in her eyes that was beyond mere suspicion. It was reluctant awe.
"The events of today, particularly the 'random' transformer overload that disoriented the subject, strongly suggest the continued presence of an unknown entity we have designated 'the Glitch'," Alex stated, her voice devoid of her usual skepticism. "Its actions are chaotic, inexplicable, but consistently... beneficial. We may not understand it, but its presence is undeniably a factor in Supergirl's continued success."
"Undeniably a factor," I repeated, a weary, proud smile stretching my lips. "Well, you heard the lady. I'm a factor. The best kind of factor. The kind that occasionally saves your resident Kryptonian from being turned into a human lightning rod."
The heavy burden of power was still there, but so was a growing sense of purpose. And a faint, almost invisible marker on my HUD, a new one that had popped up during the fight, now pulsed gently. It was on Kara. Not just the "Anchor" marker. Something else. Something indicating a new layer of connection. A new realization.
And for the first time in this new, bizarre life, the overwhelming grief wasn't the only thing I felt. There was a quiet hum of belonging. A strange, chaotic, and utterly weird kind of belonging.