"I don't like that."

"Get used to it kid," he smirked, "That's a part of the job. Deceit is the backbone of the world and once you realize that you can walk about like everyone else." Strom checked the time on his watch and muttered that they'd better head back to their hotel. He added that they were going to drive out to the desert to practice in about an hour after Strom found something worthwhile to drink.

8:34 PM.

London, England Audrey stayed with Jason while the doctors tended to other matters. Jason's recovery neared completion and aside from piqued interest the concern for his health dissipated. He didn't share a room and Audrey believed it to be nearby an operating room, initially because of fears that he could relapse. Jason's room was very bare and cold. Machines lingered all around him but none of them monitored him. Doctor Reynolds believed he was in the clear, that he was fine. Her confidence rea.s.sured and slightly worried Audrey.

Jason finally stirred though. He coughed first and once he'd composed himself he looked around until he found Audrey. "What are you doing here?" he asked her. His voice was low and rough, though Audrey guessed it came from the lack of use.

Audrey didn't hesitate to rush over to his side and throw her arms around him. She held him tight yet worried she might have hurt him. All Audrey knew was how she never wanted to let him out of her sight again. "Jason, how are you? Are you in any pain? Are you okay?"

He responded slowly at first before he repeated his question. "What are you doing here Audrey? Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital Jason," she told him. "Do you remember the fire?"

He nodded and his gaze left her. Jason thought for a moment and remained as a statue before he slowly asked how Audrey escaped the fire. "I don't remember saving you."

"You didn't. I heard the alarms and made it out on my own," she told him. "You ran in to save me."

"I didn't make it out in time did I?"

She shook her head. "You were trapped, remember?"

Jason said he recalled the fire and the heat but didn't remember much else.

Doctor Reynolds joined them shortly afterwards and welcomed him to their hospital. "How are you feeling? Other than the exhaustion and fatigue, that is."

Jason told her he felt fine. "I don't understand," he started, "How long have I been here?"

"No more than a week," Doctor Reynolds told him.

"Then why don't I have a mark to show for it?"

Doctor Jamie Reynolds took a seat and recounted his admittance into their hospital. "You were covered in burns and frankly I didn't think you would survive more than a day or so. You've proved me wrong as well as a vast majority of medical science that says you should be comatose and near death."

"Then how am I alive?"

Jamie Reynolds smiled and told them she had a theory. "It's outlandish to say the least and this is my own personal theory and no one else's, but I believe you may have heightened regenerative properties Jason."

He stared back at her blankly and asked for clarification. "You think I can heal myself?"

Reynolds nodded and started by stating that regeneration as a whole isn't rare. "We all have healing properties Jason, otherwise the human race would have vanished eons ago. However I purpose that you have heightened regenerative properties. For example, if an average man cut his hand it could take days or weeks to properly heal. If my theory is correct then you would heal much faster, possibly in a day or less."

"But what is your point?" he asked. "If I can regenerate as you said, what is it that you need to know?"

The doctor only told him her curiosity about his survival was the only driving factor. "But you could represent change Jason, what if you hold some kind of key? You could help unlock the way to excel medicine into new realms. We could cure so much, possibly everything if we're lucky. And at the very least it would confirm how you managed to survive from the fire."

Jason told the doctor he doubted he was the answer to anything. "And how do you think you'll run these tests? Are you going to just cut me open and see what makes"

"Please Mister Templar all I would ask of you is a basic checkup," she stopped him. "I want to see how your health progresses in the coming weeks and from there if I need anything else from you it wouldn't be more than an occasional vial of blood, so long as you would permit it."

Jason tried his best to scrutinize her words and a.n.a.lyze them for any ulterior motives, but ultimately he let out a breath and told the doctor he would have to think about it.

Doctor Reynolds smiled and said she never expected an immediate answer. "I'll leave you two alone. We would like to keep him one last night for observation if that's alright."

Audrey thanked her again as the doctor headed out of the room, though Jason stopped her. He asked about the toxins she found in his blood earlier in the day and asked if she knew who was behind poisoning him. "Do you know where Joshua Todd is?"

Doctor Reynolds frowned and said she'd never heard of the man. "What about him?"

"He came in at night," Jason started, "I don't know when but he came in and talked to me." Jason sat up and closed his eyes while he tried to remember. "He muttered something about the accident, about the fire. He said I shouldn't have lived and that's when he injected me with those chemicals. I remember the pain was different from everything else I'd felt, very much like when you or one of the other doctors stuck me with needles. But after that I don't remember anything until now."

The doctor crossed her arms and asked how he knew his name. "He told you who he was?"

Jason nodded. "He told me his name and that he represented the Lord. Joshua Todd told me he was a destroying angel of G.o.d and that I was supposed to die in that fire along with everyone else."

Doctor Reynolds said she didn't understand what it could be about but told him she would look through the security recordings throughout his stay to determine how Joshua Todd could have made it through their watch and into his isolated room. "He sounds like a terrorist Jason, possibly one of the Dafu that claimed responsibility for the bombing in the first place. I promise I will personally look through the security feeds and will get police involvement in finding whoever this is."

"Doctor Reynolds," he stopped her, "When you do find that recording, I'd like to see it."

"And why is that?"

"I want to know who he is and I want to know why he tried to kill me."

She nodded and told him she would once they located it. From there she took her leave and left the couple alone.

7:10 PM.

Both.e.l.l, Washington Drake sat in his living room with a Sudoku book. The alleged challenge printed on the cover misled Drake though, as he'd finished nearly half of the book without effort. He only bothered with the book to whittle the time away and it helped to quell the restlessness he felt. He told Hiromi who he was, who he really was over lunch earlier in the day, and she was fine with it. She was excited and asked him a dozen questions about what it was like to be the son of a billionaire, what the new Creeping Darkness game was like, and whether he'd ever played the game before.

It worked out as Drake expected it to, yet it seemed sincere in contrast to his other so-called relationships he'd partaken of thus far in his life. Drake never managed to be with someone who he honestly felt was attracted to him and not his father's money. It always seemed about who he was, hardly about who he truly was.

Drake tossed the book onto a small square coffee table at the center of his brown 'U' shaped leather couch. It landed on top of a small pile of books Drake and his father read or leafed through on occasion, which ranged from a dictionary and thesaurus to the works of William Shakespeare and Edgar Allen Poe. Drake looked at the fifty-eight inch screen television that sat mounted into his wall. Beneath it were all of the videogame systems he'd collected through his life, along with a large a.s.sortment of games that reached the mid-hundreds. The young man frowned and realized he had what he wanted and hardly cared for anything more.

Someone knocked at his front door. He wasn't expecting anyone so he amused himself with answering it, if only to learn who was there and turn them away. It however turned out to be Ian and Jordan who wasted no time in walking right past him and into his home. Jordan initiated the conversation, "Is your dad here?"

"No, why?"

"Good," Jordan grinned. He looked at Ian and eagerly told him to show Drake.

Drake looked at Ian and then back to Jordan and asked, "What's this about?"

Ian hesitated at the start, but from Jordan's prompting and Drake's expression he relented. He cleared his throat, clapped twice, and all of the power in Drake's house went out. After a moment the generator kicked in and power was restored, though Ian clapped twice again and the power of the generator failed as well. After a third time of clapping twice all of the power was restored to Drake's home.

Drake remained quiet while Jordan laughed. "Isn't that the wildest thing you've ever seen?"

Drake slowly agreed. He looked at Ian and asked, "When did you realize you could do that?"

Ian fidgeted in place and admitted, "That isn't all of it." Ian took a shallow breath, pressed his hands together, and then slowly pulled them apart. Between his fingers and palms shot bluish-white tendrils of lightning. Once he pulled his hands roughly a foot apart, the tendrils vanished and a small crack was heard.

They all remained silent after that display until Jordan jokingly asked, "Does this mean Ian has to come up with a superhero name? And wear the whole spandex outfit and all?"

"Be quiet Jordan."

"C'mon what color underwear are you gonna sport?" He laughed, "How about black and purple with a sky blue lightning bolt down your chest?"

"Jordan."

"You could call yourself Captain Thunder, or Zeus, or the friggin' Blue Streak!" he struggled to say through his laughter.

"Jordan shut up!" Drake ordered.

He muttered something but they ignored him. Ian asked Drake, "What do I do?"

Drake wasn't sure what to tell him. He brought them into his kitchen and retrieved drinks for all of them. Drake cracked his open, took a swig, and gave the situation a moment of thought.

"What if...What if you're not the only one?" Drake suggested.

"What do you mean?"

"Yeah, we haven't exactly seen any multicolored weirdoes flying around," Jordan reminded him. "Something like that would make headlines," he opened his drink and before he took a drink he added that one of them would have heard something about it.

Drake agreed. He frowned and told them about a serial killer in Baltimore who was believed to target people with alleged super powers. "It could be complete c.r.a.p, but it's something."

Ian nodded, "I guess after this it doesn't sound too insane."

"But does that change anything?" Jordan asked them. "I mean, so there are others, who cares? Ian here has something they probably don't so the only question we should ask is what's next?"

The three young men all stood in silence and though of what could possibly be the next step for Ian. Drake lowered his eyes to the dark wood floor and concentrated on all of the plausible avenues Ian could take with his new ability. Ian finally opened his orange soda and drank it while he stared off into s.p.a.ce. Jordan was the only one who truly remained in the kitchen in both body and mind. He tapped his index finger against the side of the can and waited to see it either of his friends would come up with anything.

Drake started, "You could use them to help people, and I don't mean as in flying around in tights with a mask. If you see someone in trouble you could help them."

"Screw that," Jordan b.u.t.ted in, "Why shouldn't he become a super hero?"

"Maybe because we don't know what the ramifications could be," Drake told him. "What happens to him if he does don a cape and mask and the world panics? Then he's hunted down, interrogated, and possibly locked away. It could simply become a witch hunt."

"Or he'll be a hero everyone looks up to."

"Guys," Ian finally spoke up, "I don't think I'm going to do anything with them."

"Why not?"

"Because it'd be easier if I was just Ian Price rather than some idol."

"But you'd be a super hero," Jordan told him. "Do you know how many people dream of that? Including me?"

Ian looked away from him and apologized. "If I could just dump this ability into your hands I would. All I want is to move to London at the end of the month and just try to blend in there."

Jordan rolled his eyes and sighed. "You'd be a major force for good."

"He still could be," Drake intervened. "This isn't something he has to decide on at this very moment in time. If he wants to do the whole savior of London thing in a year he still could."

Jordan frowned but agreed with them. He changed the subject, "So have either of you heard from Nick?"

Chapter 12.

August 31st, 2029 9:45 AM.

Kenmore, Washington Jessica sat in her room behind her desk. Her laptop was open and busily flashed different images, video clips, and doc.u.ments from a number of sources. Most of the doc.u.ments' tags read 'check this' or 'you won't believe it.' She spent the morning reading through dozens of different materials while she tried to gain a better understanding of the recent discovery.

She woke up at six in the morning because of a text message that rang over her phone. It startled her for a few reasons, the first of which was that her phone was set to silent, yet it rang out her ringtone when the message came. The other oddity was the absence of a sender. The message only read 'login.' Although she tried to reply to the sender, her message was only bounced back to her. A friend of hers sent her a message that told her she needed to log onto REFOIA.

Jessica logged in and hundreds of doc.u.ments, messages, videos, and images flooded her inbox. The first thing she did was filter them, to narrow down the ones that were duplicates, which left her with three dozen doc.u.ments, two dozen images, and another dozen videos. A majority of the items were sent to her by her best contact, kirasho52, and as such many of the remaining sources were duplicates.

After she watched, read, and saw all the doc.u.ments, she joined a chat with some of her friends, a conversation that had gone on for nearly an hour.

[jess_VII has joined]

kirasho52: obviously half are fake.

balt_raven00: no, which ones?

kirasho52: most u sent out. (@balt_raven00) mhanzo40: No, the one he sent about Texas is real.

lady_L_12: really? what about tehran?

mhanzo40: Sniper, most likely an a.s.sa.s.sin.

mhanzo40: Possibly Ghost.

kirasho52: no way.

lady_L_12: yeah right.

balt_raven00: cant b, was killed by Dafu week b4 US attack.