The faint hum of static still lingered in Alaric's room long after the light had died out. Golden traces marked the ceiling like scars — a silent reminder of what had happened only an hour ago. The acrid scent of burnt fabric and ozone clung to the air.
Alaric sat on the floor, back pressed against the wall, his breath still uneven. His shirt was singed again, fingertips faintly glowing with quiet energy. Evans was beside him, crouched, rubbing his temples as if his brain was trying to process ten impossible equations at once.
The knock on the door had stopped minutes ago. His mother had reluctantly believed his "it was just a science experiment" excuse — though the fear in her voice still echoed in his head.
Finally, Evans broke the silence.
> "You realize that wasn't just a spark anymore, right?"
"Yeah," Alaric murmured, voice low. "I felt it… deeper this time. Like it was pushing back."
Evans stood and began pacing slowly, his sneakers crunching faintly on shards of glass from a broken lightbulb. He turned to Alaric, eyes sharp behind his glasses.
"You're losing control because your energy reacts to emotion. It's not just inside you — it's syncing with you. Anger, fear, even panic… they amplify the surge."
Alaric let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head.
"So what, I'm supposed to stop feeling?"
"No," Evans replied. "You're supposed to stabilize the current. Control the ions — don't let them control you."
Alaric exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "You sound like a motivational poster."
Evans smirked faintly, sitting cross-legged beside him. "A motivational poster that might keep you alive."
They shared a short laugh — half exhaustion, half disbelief — before silence filled the room again. The light through the cracked blinds was fading, tinting everything in a dull amber hue. For the first time in days, the chaos felt quiet… almost thoughtful.
---
The next morning came with no alarms, no rushing to school. It was Wednesday — an unexpected holiday — but for Alaric, sleep had been uneasy. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw flashes of light behind his eyelids. Sparks. Pulses. Gold veins flickering through darkness.
When he finally woke, the smell of breakfast drifted through the house. Toast and something faintly spicy. The mundane warmth of it calmed his nerves. His mother's hum floated from the kitchen — soft, familiar.
He sat up, wincing slightly as the faint ache of energy still hummed beneath his skin. His room looked like a crime scene — blackened patches on the wall, a lamp melted halfway, and a faint imprint of his hand glowing faintly on the desk. He sighed.
"Morning, sunshine," his mother greeted without looking up as he entered the kitchen. "I didn't think you'd wake before noon."
"Barely did," he muttered, grabbing a glass of water. "Didn't sleep well."
"Let me guess — too much 'science stuff' yesterday?" she said teasingly, plating his breakfast.
Alaric forced a small smile. "Yeah… you could say that. Evans might drop by again."
She gave him a knowing look. "Just don't blow up the apartment this time, okay?"
He laughed weakly, scratching the back of his head. "Promise."
She chuckled, clearly not suspecting the literal truth behind her joke. When she left to fold laundry, Alaric glanced at his phone.
A single message from Evans blinked on the screen:
"On my way. Bring the data log from yesterday. We're not done yet."
---
Evans arrived twenty minutes later — same backpack, same restless energy. The moment Alaric opened the door, Evans slipped in, nodding briefly to Alaric's mom before vanishing into the hallway.
Once in Alaric's room, Evans surveyed the damage with a low whistle.
"Well, congratulations — you've officially created a personal electromagnetic field."
Alaric smirked faintly. "Do I get a medal for almost frying the neighborhood?"
Evans set his bag down, pulling out a tablet, wires, and a few compact meters. "No medals. But maybe a containment plan. We're gonna figure out how to stop that from happening again."
"Or… control it?" Alaric asked quietly.
Evans glanced at him, lips tightening.
"Yeah. Control it."
They started small again — controlled bursts. Alaric focused on his hands, sparks flickering faintly like candlelight. Evans measured the readings, muttering numbers under his breath.
"Voltage stabilizing… good. Resistance level— wait, drop that output a little— okay. Better."
For a few minutes, everything seemed calm. Then the hum beneath Alaric's skin deepened. The golden veins pulsed brighter. He clenched his fists, jaw tight.
"It's… heating up again."
Evans looked up immediately. "Keep breathing. Focus on the ions — not the heat."
Alaric inhaled sharply, eyes glowing faintly gold. Sparks jumped to the nearby desk, crawling like veins of lightning. The hum grew louder, resonating through the walls.
"E-Evans," he gritted out, "it's— it's slipping!"
Before Evans could respond, the air itself warped. Books rattled off shelves. The fluorescent bulb above them flickered violently, then burst. A column of light cracked through the ceiling like divine thunder, flashing gold.
The entire block went dark for three seconds.
When Alaric opened his eyes again, the room was silent — burnt, dim, filled with the faint hiss of static. His hands were trembling, but unharmed. His breath came in quick, shallow bursts.
A loud knock shook the door.
"Alaric! What was that noise?!" His mother's voice, panicked.
He scrambled, locked the door instantly.
"It's fine, Mom! We were just — just doing an experiment! I swear it's okay!"
"Experiment?! Are you two trying to kill yourselves in there?" she yelled.
Evans mouthed silently: Say something normal.
"Just a little circuit issue!" Alaric shouted, voice cracking slightly. "We'll fix it!"
A long pause. Then her sigh through the door. "I swear, if I see smoke again—"
They listened until her footsteps faded. The air hung thick and heavy. The walls bore scorch marks. Evans ran a shaky hand through his hair, staring at the faintly glowing floor.
"That was no simple discharge, Alaric," he said finally. "That was a surge. A full overload."
Alaric looked down at his trembling hands. The golden glow had faded to a dim ember. "I didn't mean to— it just happened."
Evans crouched beside him, calmer now. "Your energy's evolving. You're not just generating electricity — you're transforming it, manipulating ionized matter. It's like your body is trying to merge with the energy."
Alaric blinked, still dazed. "Merge… you mean—"
"Exactly what it sounds like," Evans said, tapping his tablet screen rapidly. "You could, in theory, convert your body into ions — pure electric particles. Move at light speeds, even. But that's theoretical. Right now, you'd fry yourself."
Alaric frowned, the idea burning into his mind like a spark. "So if I could control it completely—"
Evans nodded slowly. "If — and that's a big if — you learned to regulate ionization, you might be able to move at near-electrical velocity. No friction. No air resistance. You'd basically become energy."
Alaric stared at the floor, his pulse steadying. "So there's a way."
Evans sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Maybe. But that's not our priority. Not yet."
He paused, glancing at the scorched room again. "You asked me yesterday what we do next. I think I have your answer."
He pulled out his phone, scrolling through stored documents and old screenshots. A map appeared on the screen — blueprints. Aurion Industries Main Research Wing.
"I found this on the archived database," Evans said quietly. "Aurion Industries went offline the day of the explosion, but their data servers weren't erased. Someone kept them running."
Alaric's heartbeat quickened. "Meaning…?"
Evans met his eyes. "Meaning there's still something there. Something — or someone — maintaining it."
The weight of those words filled the silence. For a long moment, only the faint hum of static broke it.
Finally, Alaric spoke. "So when do we go?"
Evans hesitated, glancing toward the door, then back to him. "We can't just walk in. We need time. We'll plan, gather what we need. You need to stabilize your power first."
He opened his notebook, flipping to a new page. The sound of paper scratching filled the room as he began to write.
"Five days," he muttered. "This Sunday night. That's when we go. Less security, less light. We'll slip in, get what we can, and get out."
Alaric nodded, the golden light in his eyes returning faintly. "And until then?"
Evans looked up, smirking slightly. "Until then, you learn control. You learn to cover your body in ions, not burn holes through the ceiling."
Alaric grinned — exhausted but determined. "Deal."
Evans stood, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "Rest for today. I'll bring the equipment tomorrow. And Alaric—"
He paused by the door.
"Whatever happens at Aurion… be ready. The answers might not be what you want."
Alaric leaned back, exhaling slowly. Sparks danced faintly along his arm, fading like dying embers.
"Doesn't matter," he murmured. "I'm done running from what I am."
The hum of quiet electricity filled the silence again — not chaotic this time, but alive.
Something was forming, deep within him. Not fear. Not confusion.
Purpose.
Outside, the wind stirred — faint, electric.
Sunday was coming.