Chapter 4: Fire and Friendship
The courtyard behind Godolkin's science building vibrated with tension, ozone hanging heavy in the air like the moment before lightning strikes. Landon tracked Luke Riordan's movements from the shadow of a maintenance shed, watching Golden Boy pace the empty space with the erratic energy of someone balanced on the edge. The campus's former star—now broken by whatever they'd done to him in The Woods—looked ready to shatter.
The perfect moment. The perfect target.
Landon had plotted this encounter carefully, leveraging his meta-knowledge of Luke's trauma and his newly acquired shape-shifting abilities to engineer what would appear as a chance meeting. Fire Control was too valuable to pass up—the kind of high-ranked ability that could keep him alive when Vought's schemes inevitably escalated.
Taking a steadying breath, Landon stepped into the courtyard, deliberately scuffing his shoe against the concrete to announce his presence.
Luke's head snapped up, flames already dancing at his fingertips—a defensive reflex that spoke volumes about his mental state.
"Easy," Landon said, raising his hands. "Just passing through."
The flames intensified, casting Luke's face in flickering orange light. "Bullshit. Nobody 'passes through' back here."
Landon shrugged, maintaining careful distance. Luke's powers were unstable, his control fraying along with his mental health. "Maybe I was looking for a quiet place too."
"Find somewhere else," Luke growled, but the flames wavered, uncertainty bleeding through the hostility.
Landon took a calculated risk, stepping closer. "The Woods really messed you up, huh?"
The effect was immediate. Luke's entire body went rigid, flames surging higher as his eyes widened with panic and rage. "What the fuck did you just say?"
"The Woods," Landon repeated, his heart hammering against his ribs. "Vought's little pet project in the basement. They put you there, didn't they? After your brother disappeared."
"How do you—" Luke's voice cracked, the flames encasing his hands burning white-hot with emotion. "Who told you about that? Who are you working for?"
Landon kept his expression neutral, though sweat beaded along his hairline from the scorching heat radiating off Luke. "I'm not working for anyone. I just... know things. About Vought. About what they're doing here."
Luke's laugh was hollow, bordering on hysteric. "Then you know I'm dangerous. That I'm fucked up beyond repair. That they turned me into this—" The flames pulsed, consuming his arms up to the elbows.
"You're not the only one they've hurt," Landon said softly, throwing the dice on his most dangerous gambit yet. "Sam isn't dead, Luke."
The world exploded.
Fire erupted from Luke's body in a concussive wave, enveloping Landon before he could even attempt evasion. The pain was beyond comprehension—every nerve ending simultaneously screaming as his skin blackened and peeled away, lungs searing as they drew in superheated air, eyes boiling in their sockets. His last coherent thought before oblivion claimed him was that he'd pushed too far, too fast.
Worth it if it works.
Landon revived in a filthy alley behind the campus recycling center, the stench of rotting food and industrial waste assaulting his restored senses. His stomach heaved, emptying bile onto cracked concrete as his body remembered the agony of being incinerated. Phantom burns ghosted across his skin, a horrific echo of trauma that the system's revival couldn't fully erase.
[FIRE CONTROL (B-RANK) ACQUIRED. HOT STUFF, BUT YOU'RE STILL SOFT.]
The message pulsed blue in his vision as Landon struggled to his knees, every movement sending waves of nausea through his system. B-rank—the highest ability he'd acquired yet, and the first that might actually make a difference in this lethal environment. He could feel the power settling beneath his skin, an internal furnace waiting to be stoked.
He leaned against the alley wall, brick rough against his back as he focused on steadying his breathing. The revival had been worse this time, leaving him disoriented and vulnerable. He needed to recover quickly and find Luke before the Golden Boy did something irreversible.
He could be halfway to suicide by now. I pushed all his buttons at once.
Guilt twisted in Landon's chest, unexpected and unwelcome. Luke was supposed to be a target, a means to power. But the raw pain in his eyes, the desperate edge to his rage—it had felt too real, too close to Landon's own barely contained panic at being thrown into this nightmare world.
Focus. Get up. Find him.
Landon pushed himself to his feet, testing his new ability with a careful thought. Warmth flowed down his arm, culminating in a small flame dancing above his palm. The fire responded to his will, shifting from blue to orange as he concentrated, growing and shrinking with his breath.
B-rank. Powerful enough to be useful, controlled enough to be versatile.
His skin prickled with pins and needles as the ability settled, nerves remembering what it was like to channel such heat. Landon extinguished the flame and staggered out of the alley, following the distant sounds of commotion from the direction of the courtyard.
Time to see if I can actually save someone in this god-forsaken place.
Landon found Luke sitting in the charred center of the courtyard, surrounded by blackened grass and melted plastic from nearby benches. The flames had receded, though occasional sparks still flickered across Luke's trembling hands. His face was streaked with ash and tears, eyes hollow with the aftermath of his explosion.
"You should be dead," Luke said flatly, not looking up as Landon approached.
"I get that a lot." Landon kept his voice steady, circling carefully to gauge Luke's state. The blast radius extended nearly thirty feet in every direction, evidence of power that exceeded even Godolkin's official rankings. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry about pushing your buttons."
"Sam's not alive." Luke's voice cracked. "They showed me his body."
Landon crouched beside him, maintaining careful distance. "They lied. Vought specializes in that."
"How would you know?" Luke finally looked at him, desperation warring with fragile hope. "Who the fuck are you?"
"Someone who knows more than I should." Landon chose his words carefully, balancing honesty with necessary deception. "Vought has Sam in a secure facility. Not here at Godolkin, but connected. They're testing him, like they tested you."
"Testing." Luke's laugh was hollow. "Is that what you call what they did to us in The Woods? Testing?"
Landon remained silent, letting Luke process. The courtyard smelled of ash and ozone, the lingering scent of Luke's power mixing with the charged aftermath of his emotional breakdown. In the distance, campus security sirens wailed, drawn by the commotion.
"They're going to try again," Landon said quietly, urgency threading through his voice. "More students. More 'tests.' Vought calls it optimization, but it's something worse. It's not too late to stop it, but I need your help."
Luke's expression shifted, devastation giving way to something sharper, more focused. "Why should I believe anything you say? How did you survive my flames?"
"Temporary copying ability," Landon lied smoothly, rubbing his neck in a practiced nervous gesture. "It's unreliable, but sometimes works when I'm exposed to extreme powers. And as for believing me..." He met Luke's gaze steadily. "You don't have to. But ask yourself—what have Vought's lies gotten you so far?"
The distant sirens grew closer. Luke stared at Landon for a long moment, something crystallizing in his expression—a decision forming behind his bloodshot eyes.
"I need proof," he said finally. "About Sam."
"I can get it," Landon promised, though he had no idea how he'd deliver on that yet. "But first, we need to clear out before security arrives. Follow me?"
Luke hesitated, then nodded, pushing himself to his feet. "If you're lying to me—"
"You'll burn me to a crisp," Landon finished. "Fair enough."
As they slipped away through a maintenance access path, Landon caught a flash of movement at the edge of the courtyard—Marie, watching them with an unreadable expression, her presence raising questions he'd have to address later.
For now, he'd taken a calculated risk and gained more than just fire powers. He'd gained an ally with inside knowledge of The Woods—potentially the most valuable resource in his growing arsenal against Vought.
[HEROIC MOVE: LUKE'S YOUR BUDDY NOW. DON'T CRY ABOUT IT.]
The trash can behind Landon's dorm building erupted in flames, sparks climbing toward the night sky before he hastily tamped them down. The acrid smell of burning plastic stung his nostrils as he struggled to control his newly acquired ability, finding the balance between power and precision.
"Shit," he muttered, dousing the can with a thought, sweat beading on his forehead from the effort. Fire Control was formidable but temperamental, responding to his emotions as much as his conscious direction. The slightest flare of anxiety or frustration translated into intensified flames, making practice both necessary and dangerous.
He created another flame in his palm, focusing on shaping it—from sphere to pyramid to a miniature human figure that danced across his fingers. The heat felt strangely comforting, a warmth that pushed back against the constant chill of death that had seeped into his bones.
[FIRE CONTROL STABILITY: 80%. KEEP PLAYING WITH FIRE, IDIOT.]
The system's mocking assessment flickered across his vision as Landon attempted a more complex manipulation, separating the flame into multiple strands that wound around his arm like fiery serpents. The drain on his concentration was substantial, leaving him light-headed.
"Impressive trick."
The voice startled him, flames flaring dangerously before he extinguished them with a thought. Landon turned to find Cate Dunlap leaning against the building's back entrance, arms crossed, eyes reflecting remnants of his fire's glow.
Shit. Telepath.
Landon scrambled to organize his thoughts, layering genuine anxiety and half-truths over the dangerous secrets beneath. The system helped somehow, its presence creating a kind of mental static that seemed to interfere with direct probing—at least so far.
"Just practicing," he said, forcing a casual tone.
"With fire?" Cate raised an eyebrow. "That's not what your file says you can do."
"Copy ability," Landon explained with rehearsed awkwardness, rubbing the back of his neck. "I can temporarily mimic powers I've been exposed to. It's... complicated."
Cate stepped closer, her perfume cutting through the scent of smoke. "So you picked up this little trick from Luke Riordan? After his meltdown today?"
"Something like that."
She studied him, her gaze uncomfortably penetrating. Landon maintained eye contact, though every instinct screamed to look away. Telepaths like Cate were Vought's perfect weapons—beautiful, charming, and utterly without scruples when it came to mining others' minds.
"You're an interesting puzzle, Landon Vale," she said finally. "No one else seems to bounce back from disaster quite like you do."
"Just lucky, I guess."
"Hm." Her smile didn't reach her eyes. "Well, be careful with that fire. Wouldn't want another accident so soon after Luke's... incident."
The warning in her voice was unmistakable. As she turned to leave, Landon felt a whisper of something brush against his consciousness—gentle but insistent, like fingers testing the edge of a locked door.
He maintained his mental facade until she disappeared around the corner, then sagged against the wall, exhaustion washing over him. Cate's interest was dangerous, a complication he couldn't afford with only a handful of powers to his name.
The night air cooled his flushed skin as Landon stared up at the stars, tracing familiar Ohio constellations with his eyes. They looked the same here as they had in his world, pinpricks of ancient light unchanged by his transmigration into this blood-soaked reality.
Three deaths. Three powers. Not enough to survive what's coming.
He created one last flame, a small blue flicker hovering above his palm—not for practice, but for the simple comfort of its warmth. In this world where death was his constant companion and trust a luxury he could rarely afford, there was something grounding about the ability to create light in darkness.
The fire danced in his hand, a reminder of both power gained and the price paid for it—Luke's pain, his own repeated deaths, the fragmenting of whatever humanity he'd carried from his old world. Each revival brought him back a little different, a little harder, the system reshaping him into something that could survive Godolkin's bloody crucible.
Landon extinguished the flame with a thought, darkness rushing back in its absence. Tomorrow he would continue his hunt for powers, his careful cultivation of allies, his dance around Vought's watchful eyes.
Tonight, he allowed himself a moment to acknowledge what was slowly becoming clear: saving this world might cost him the person he used to be.
MORE POWER STONES == MORE CHAPTERS
To supporting Me in Pateron .
Love [ Friends and HIMYM Crossover ]? Unlock More Chapters and Support the Story!
Dive deeper into the world of [ Friends and HIMYM Crossover ] with exclusive access to 25+ chapters on my Patreon, plus new fanfic every week! Your support starting at just $5/month helps me keep crafting the stories you love across epic universes like [ Game Of Throne ,MCU and Arrowverse, Breaking Bad , The Walking dead ,The Hobbit,Wednesday].
By joining, you're not just getting more chapters—you're helping me bring new worlds, twists, and adventures to life. Every pledge makes a huge difference!
👉 Join now at patreon.com/TheFinex5 and start reading today!