The sunlight crept in through half-drawn curtains, painting thin golden lines across the floor of Alaric's room. The world outside looked deceptively calm—the kind of morning where the air felt soft and slow, like nothing could possibly go wrong.
But inside, silence carried weight.
The faint hum in the air wasn't from any appliance; it was from him. That lingering vibration—alive, electric—hadn't stopped since the surge. His body no longer felt like his own. Sometimes, when he breathed too deeply, he swore he could taste metal on his tongue.
Two days had passed since the incident. The scorched patch on the ceiling had been covered hastily with white paint, though the faint scent of burnt plaster still hung there. His mom didn't ask questions anymore; maybe she didn't want to know the answers.
"Alaric!" Her voice came from downstairs. "Breakfast!"
"Coming!" he called back, running a hand through his tangled hair.
He looked at his reflection—half-awake eyes, pale skin, faint golden cracks flickering under the surface whenever he blinked. It wasn't imagination anymore. Something inside him was alive.
When he went downstairs, his mom was in the kitchen, humming softly, spatula in hand. The smell of butter and eggs filled the air.
"You're up late again," she said, not looking up. "You really should start sleeping properly."
"Yeah, I know," Alaric said, forcing a small smile. "Just… couldn't shut my brain off."
She turned, raising an eyebrow. "You and Evans still working on that project of yours?"
"Uh… yeah," he lied smoothly. "Some science stuff. We're trying to build a new model for an energy conversion experiment."
"Well," she said, flipping the eggs, "just don't blow up my kitchen, okay?"
Alaric chuckled. "No promises."
She smiled faintly. For a moment, it felt like a normal morning again.
But normal never lasted.
A knock echoed through the house not long after. Three sharp taps.
Evans.
Alaric opened the door to find his friend standing there with his usual black hoodie, dark circles under his eyes, and a heavy-looking backpack slung over one shoulder.
"Morning," Evans said, stepping in. "You look like you slept as much as I did."
"Which is not at all?"
"Exactly."
They shared a tired smirk.
His mom peeked out from the kitchen. "Hi, Evans! Breakfast?"
He waved awkwardly. "No thanks, Mrs. Hale. Already ate."
"Alright. Just don't turn the house into a lab again!"
Evans chuckled as Alaric led him upstairs. "She still thinks you're making volcanoes in the bathroom?"
"Better she thinks that than what we're actually doing," Alaric muttered.
Evans unzipped his bag and pulled out a large folded paper.
"What's that?" Alaric asked.
"Blueprints."
He spread it across the desk—the symbol of Aurion Industries printed at the top corner. Cold, sharp lines marked every hallway, lab, and restricted zone.
Alaric's stomach twisted. "You actually got this?"
Evans nodded. "It wasn't easy. A robotics guy from my server owed me a favor. He used drone data to sketch the structure."
He pointed at the west side of the layout. "This section here—the research wing. Less security on Sundays. Power grid maintenance every two weeks. That's our window."
Alaric frowned. "Sunday's only five days away."
"Exactly. So we have five days to make sure you don't explode halfway through the fence."
"Gee, thanks for the encouragement."
Evans smirked. "I'm serious. You saw what happened last time—you lost control because your energy wasn't grounded. We'll fix that."
He glanced at Alaric, tone softening. "You trust me, right?"
Alaric hesitated, then nodded. "Always."
Evans smiled faintly. "Then let's start."
They moved to the garage. Cold air, faint smell of oil and dust. The space had become their testing ground.
Evans set up his laptop, connecting small sensors to a power monitor. "Okay," he said, typing rapidly. "This'll track your bioelectric rhythm. I need to measure how much current runs through you when you activate."
Alaric cracked his knuckles. "So what's the plan?"
Evans grinned. "We're gonna see if you can cover your body with energy instead of just releasing it. Think of it as… wearing electricity like armor."
"Sounds painful."
"Only if you screw it up."
"Wow, great pep talk."
Evans chuckled. "Alright. Focus. Start slow."
Alaric took a deep breath. The hum started faintly—like static crawling under his skin. Golden light shimmered at his fingertips.
"Good," Evans murmured, watching readings rise. "Now, expand it gradually. Don't push—guide it."
The glow spread, climbing his arms, swirling in controlled arcs. The light danced beautifully across his body, tracing veins like living wires.
Evans grinned. "Perfect! Keep that rhythm."
But then—something inside Alaric flinched. A thought, a memory—flashes of the park, screams, the explosion—and the calm broke.
The golden light twisted violently, flaring out.
"Alaric! Ground it!" Evans shouted.
"I'm trying—"
Sparks exploded. The garage lights flickered wildly, metallic tools clattered to the ground. The floor buzzed with raw static as Alaric stumbled backward, gasping.
"Your pulse is spiking!" Evans yelled, checking his screen. "You're losing containment—!"
Alaric clenched his fists, voice strained. "I can't—it's too much—!"
Evans grabbed a metal pipe and jammed it into the floor. "Touch it! Now!"
Alaric dropped to his knees, slamming his palms against the grounded pipe. The surge discharged in a violent crack—lightning raced across the concrete floor, burning a faint line before fading.
Silence.
Alaric was panting, smoke curling faintly from his fingertips.
Evans rushed over. "You okay?"
"Yeah… yeah," Alaric breathed, sweat dripping down his face. "It's getting harder to control. It's like it doesn't want to listen."
Evans crouched beside him. "It's not about control anymore. You can't fight it. You need to sync with it."
Alaric looked up. "Sync?"
Evans nodded. "Think of it like a heartbeat. Yours and its. If they're out of rhythm, it'll fight back. But if they match… you become one."
Alaric leaned back, eyes half-glowing. "You make it sound poetic."
Evans smirked. "Science is poetry with explosions."
Alaric chuckled weakly. "You're insane."
"Yeah, but I'm your insane."
They shared a short laugh before Alaric stood again, determination replacing exhaustion. "Let's go again."
"Already?"
"Yeah. I can feel it now… it's not fighting me, it's testing me."
Evans's eyes gleamed. "Alright then. Let's show it who's boss."
The next hour blurred into repetition—energy, failure, adjustment, success. Each surge became less chaotic, each pulse more refined.
By evening, Alaric stood surrounded by faint golden light—stable, pulsing softly. His hair floated gently, his eyes glowing like two molten suns.
Evans watched in awe. "You're doing it… you're literally covering yourself in pure energy."
Alaric smiled, breath steady. "I can feel everything. The air, the walls… even your heartbeat."
"That's creepy."
He laughed softly, then focused, fading the glow until only faint sparks remained.
Evans exhaled. "That's enough for today."
"Not yet," Alaric said. "I want to try something."
He took a step—and vanished.
A golden blur streaked across the garage, reappearing behind Evans. The air rippled with static, and Evans spun around, eyes wide.
"DID YOU JUST—?"
Alaric grinned. "Run at the speed of electricity?"
Evans gaped. "You're insane."
Alaric flexed his fingers. "Guess I'm learning fast."
Night fell. Rain tapped against the window as they sat on the floor, exhausted.
The laptop hummed quietly beside them, displaying endless streams of data.
"So…" Alaric said after a while, staring at the rain. "Sunday."
"Sunday," Evans echoed.
Alaric turned to him. "If something goes wrong—if I lose control again—"
Evans cut him off. "Then I'll pull you out. You're not doing this alone."
Alaric looked down. "You sure you're ready for this? You could get hurt."
Evans smirked faintly. "I've been ready since the day you nearly fried the school's sprinkler system. Someone's gotta keep you alive."
They both laughed softly.
Then Evans held out his hand. "Pact?"
Alaric looked at it for a moment before clasping it. A faint spark jumped between their palms, glowing like a tiny star.
Evans winced. "Dude, seriously?"
Alaric smirked. "Sorry. Reflex."
Evans grinned. "You better keep that spark for Sunday."
"Oh, I will," Alaric said quietly, eyes glinting gold. "And when we reach Aurion, I'll finally get the answers they've been hiding."
Lightning flashed outside, reflecting in his eyes.
And for the first time, the power didn't look like a curse—it looked like destiny.