Muddled, I opened my eyes in a daze, the light pierced my retinas and made me feel even more nauseous. The pain numbed my mind as my eyelids were dragged down by the weight of my bewildered thoughts.

“Casey? Where's the anaesthesiologist? He’s mutating, we need a super-sized dosage and please get us some modified scerium binders from the back. We can't afford for the A-Wing to be destroyed by the 5th mutation this month.” an older woman barked orders. Her grating voice worsened my headache.

I opened my eyes and saw the doctor who was speaking. It felt impersonal, like I was watching my own life through a TV screen, as 4 individuals dressed in the same turquoise attire fussed with the equipment attached to the stretcher I was laying on.

The pain escalated, almost like I could feel my liver burning something out of me as if it were a poison. Now every cell in my body screamed beyond what I had felt before. I could feel my skin bubble around my deceased leg and previously mangled hand as a needle was shoved into my arm. The sweet release possessed me once again as my consciousness drifted.

***

For the second time In what felt like days, I drearily opened my eyes and braced myself, although nothing came, except for the steady beep of the heart rate monitors. My limbs slowly returned to my control and I tried to look at my hands, only to be held back by metallic straps that wrapped around my forearms and kept them firmly clinging to the bed.

To try and ground myself in reality, I surveyed the room. It was covered in sleek metal that I could only guess was inches thick and was sparsely furnished except for a bedside drawer, a desk, a chair, medical equipment, a door to the left and a window that had poor visibility, possibly due to being bulletproof. I was not wearing the same clothes I was last time. Instead, I was wearing a standard hospital gown, a sort of light-bluish-green in colour that didn’t cover quite as much as me as I would have preferred.

Memories intruded into my mind as I clutched my head. Fuck, my leg and my hand? Quickly I wriggled my leg and fingers, all working exactly the same as how they should be. Was it all a dream? Where's Ryan?

The reinforced iron door opened with a bang. The sound caused me to jolt slightly. Suddenly, I was back at the event. The bus colliding with the ground and those people made a fairly similar noise. Once again, I could smell the leaking fuel. Once again, I could taste the overwhelming amount of dust that had surrounded me. Once again, I could see that poor person that had been completely destroyed by one of the wheels.

I noticed that I was hyperventilating again and that the beep on the machine was now going up twofold. My bloodshot eyes returned to reality and swivelled to the doctor who entered. The doctor was quickly shoved aside by two men in black suits with what looked like high-calibre rifles, their sleek geometric design reeked of lethal efficiency. They flanked the door silently and a robust man walked in. His white suit contrasted with his bodyguards and the red undercoat he wore gave an air of elegance. He puffed on a cigar while he slicked back his oily hair.

“Sir, you’re not allowed to smo-” a female voice behind the turquoise face mask started.

“Oliver, escort the kind lady out,” the well-dressed man said in a heavy foreign accent. It sounded like he was from one of the north-eastern districts, where the cold wind flew in across the sea and the people were known to be quite hard. One of his cronies obeyed, grabbing the woman by the arm and hurrying her out.

I studied the situation carefully and forced myself to calm down. My brain was still groggy so I didn't trust myself to misspeak in front of the immaculately dressed men with weapons meant to kill.

“Don't worry about them son. I'm here to talk to you, and all I want is for you to listen.” The gangster imitator pulled up a chair at the end of the bed. Now that he was closer, I could see he was ageing, around 58 or so if I had to guess.

He gave me an unsettling grin before continuing, as if he wanted to put me at ease, but didn’t know what a natural smile looked like. “To put it lightly, you were a survivor of Alan's little blunder and developed god-knows-what superpower, but I digress.” The stranger’s voice dropped by an octave as he leaned in further. “ Right now I'm telling you how this is going to go down.”

Shit, that must be Electri-City's real name. That bastard threw a bus directly at me. I hope Ryan didn't end up like those other… victims. I swallowed the bile that rose into my throat.

“Don't worry about your little friend, he's fine. You should worry about yourself. The Super Powered Code of Conduct section 5A.2, in action immediately, is that you are required to go through the mandatory process of testing in order to get a licence for your powers.”

How did he know about Ryan? Especially to bring it up just as I was thinking about it. I should be feeling happy right now, shouldn't I?

“Also, not so much as a peep about Electro to the vultures, son. You don't even want to know what I can do. Especially to Ryan or your family'' his hoarse throat ground out, before he patted my back with a large rough hand and stood up.

The Hound took his time sauntering over until I could practically smell the expensive cologne, which barely covered the harsh smell of cigar ash. The manager carelessly flicked the rest of his cigar to the ground, kicked it underneath my bed and blew a cloud of smoke in my face.

I managed to stifle a cough, although the disgusted face I made wasn’t much better. My heart pounded and I felt something foreign tickle my mind. I expected him to bend his knees so that our eyes were at the same level. Instead, he chose to simply tower over me.

He asked me “you’re a superhero fanatic, right? I’m sure you’ve heard about the fight between Gargant and Giant Boy?”

I nodded instinctively. A fight between two superpowered people that could be as tall as buildings had happened before and after, but this one stood out to me due to it leading to Giant Boy’s retirement and Gargant’s death. From what I read, Giant Boy was so upset that he wasn’t able to save more people from Gargant that he chose to give up the superhero business.

“You know how many people Gargant killed that day?” The Hound asked me.

“Around 70, right?”

“Wrong. Gargant didn’t kill anyone that day. Instead, Giant Boy tripped over a car and crashed into an office block people were taking shelter in.”

“What? I think I would’ve heard about that if it’s what happened,” I rebutted. Having experienced the consequences of superhero negligence firsthand, I didn’t necessarily find it hard to believe. What I had trouble with was the idea that people wouldn’t find out or talk about it.

“We clean these incidents up, Elijah. That’s what we do.”

Casually he withdrew from our staring contest and dropped a business card onto my bedside desk. “Be careful, squirt,” the stranger wheezed out. He then walked out, slamming the iron door behind them with a grunt of exertion. The invisible pressure seemed to leave with him.

I let go of the breath I was holding without even knowing it and went to clutch my pounding chest. Before my hand was yanked painfully by the straps. Shit these straps are getting annoying. Angling my head to the side, I read the business card on the table.

Recognition flooded my brain as I read the card. Shit, he was the hero league's manager, nicknamed The Hound. He negotiated the hero constitution's policies and was known to be a very persuasive man surrounded by mystery. It's rumoured he used to be a mob boss known for his brutality before going over to the league, with some saying he's got some kind of psychic ability that makes his will more exertable over you, the more intimidated you are by him. I'm inclined to agree after that encounter, following how he so eerily mirrored my thoughts. It's as if I nearly felt compelled to do what he said. I catalogued him as “very dangerous” in my head just in case I ever ran into him later.

I squinted my eyes and studied the business card closely. The paper depicted the top 10 S-Class heroes standing in their iconic poses in a line with 3 stars on top and 3 on the bottom. Each rank was based upon requirements of power and experience, ranging from S-Rank to E-Rank. The top 10 position in the organisation was always fought over, as it always came with a guarantee of fame and high status.

As far as cards go, it was pretty bland: a phone number, address of his firm’s main headquarters and as mentioned, the picture, which was likely used in most forms of their marketing.

The door was opened in a slow and timid way, causing me to jump with what little range of motion I had.

“Hey, Mr Garcia, right? Haha, that guy sure was scary isn't he?” A nurse with long, ombre hair and a bright smile carefully slid in.

“Y-yeah isn't he?” I forced a small chuckle and awkwardly paused before asking “When can I go?”

The nurse put a finger to her lip and scrunched her face “you're required to stay here ‘till morning, which is when they’ll take you to the camp. Normally you have to register at the bureau, but the hospital and that mobster-lookin’ guy did it for you. I hear it’s actually outside of the walls, so that’s exciting! Y’know, I always wished I had a healing ability and could become like The Surgeon so I could save everyone and even cure cancer! Anyway, since it seems like you only have some kind of regenerative ability, I'm allowed to take off your cerium binders. Unfortunately I'm going to have to lock your door as a safety precaution.”

Wow. She talks a lot.

I processed the words and nodded. Immediately, she leaned over to start fiddling with the straps.

“These things sure do look annoying. Smell nasty too, like old leather. The things never get replaced ‘cos they're practically a fortune. Poor thing. If you need anything, press the red button on the side of your bed. The remote for the tv is also next to your bed and please don't try to exit or damage the window. It's gonna set off the alarm and the guards will come to sedate you if the alarms go off,” the bubbly girl said with a genuine smile.

“Ah yeah. Thanks, I could use some food, and how long have I been out for?” the words came out more feebly than I meant them to. I couldn’t help but think I have been awfully quiet today.

“About 13 days, your mutation was pretty quiet as far as it goes. I'll go get you some food now though sir, i'll be right off-”

“Wait! Is Ryan Bell ok? He was hurt at the same thing I was”

“Hmm, I'll have to check on that for you, I'll be back soon,” she said finally with her sing-song voice.

And now I was left alone. I studied the strap now that it had left my body. The thing really did smell like armpits. I should've asked her how long I was out for. God, my head is still swimming.

The strap practically screamed expensive and state-of-the-art as it thrummed with technology, almost looking like it had a heart beating blue liquid in its metallic veins. I could feel it sucking the energy right out of my body when I touched it. Now that I compare it to how I feel now, I realised right, superpower constraints.

I staggered out of the bed, placing the harnesses to the side, and jumped up and down. Wow, I feel more limb than I ever have!

I looked down at my body and felt none of the scars that I knew should've been there. More importantly, my limbs were there. I knew I didn't imagine the horrifying pain and the awful screams I could still hear when thinking about. No sane mind could’ve imagined that. I clutched my head as another brutal headache attacked me, as if I was stopping my skull from falling apart. God, it felt like some sicko had stolen my brain and was squeezing it as hard as he could for the fun of it.

Trying to distract myself, I called upon my repertoire of hero knowledge. Traditionally, healing powers come with secondary manifestations. Maybe I could warm up to being a hero, it being my dream, after all. I forced a smile onto my face as I remembered happier times of countless summers spent trying to develop powers.

I stuck my hand out and tried to summon an emission ability as I’d used to do, recalling the freezing cold of the bathtub I had poured ice into, seeping into my bones and chilling my soul.

“Come forth, ice!” I shouted confidently, wishing with every fibre of my being and pushing. Nothing came out. Embarrassing, but maybe I wasn't thinking about it right. I started to remember the hundreds of other things I’ve tried before. “Fire! Electricity! Water! Acid! Air! Energy beam!”

The door opened, groaning at my display. “Uhh, hi again?” the cheerful nurse from before said awkwardly with a polite smile and blank stare.

I forced a cough into my hand, buying time to recompose myself before saying “I was trying to figure out my new power.” Trying to remedy the situation, I did my best to utter this with complete conviction, somehow thinking that if I didn’t appear to be embarrassed, she wouldn’t think me to be mental.

The beautiful nurse suppressed a laugh before revealing “yeah, I saw you on the security cameras this whole time.”

The nurse couldn't contain it anymore and started laughing infectiously, nearly dropping the food she was carrying in the process. She showed me a tablet in her other hand that displayed a full, HD video of my room. Cutting my losses, I sat down on the side of my bed.

“Here's your food, hope you like tuna sandwiches, because that's all they got. And your friend, Ryan, was it? He's stable,” she bit her lip before proceeding with “They might need to amputate his leg if it keeps getting worse, though.”

I tried to hold the fake smile I had on but I couldn't. It was all my fault wasn’t it? If only I wasn’t a fuck up, we wouldnt have even gone to the mall. If only I didn't try to race him. So many things I should’ve done. Why am I the only one that’s got powers? Just because I was the lucky one who was standing in the perfect place so I didn't instantly die. Tears blurred my eyes.

I dug my fingernails into my palm so hard that I drew blood. Shit, I'm such a mess. I was joking around a second ago too, like nothing ever happened.

“It's okay, Eli, if I can call you that. You know, most of the people here are in your shoes some way or another.” she patted my back while the tears rendered me blind. I wanted to wipe them away, but didn’t want to draw any attention to my bloody palm.

“You've had a big day. Eat your food and have some rest,” the ombre-haired girl couldn't have been more than 4 years older than me but was acting like my mum. How embarrassing. With one final rub on the back, she left me alone with a worried look on her face.

“I'll be back in the morning, okay?”

“I'll see you then” I weakly smiled back.

I started eating my sandwich, muzzling my growling stomach. I knew my body was in turmoil and needed it. I wrapped myself in the sheets, reminding me of Fog Thing’s embrace. I brought my hands up to my face, only to see no wound and the blood already starting to crust. I shivered and tried to sleep, although finding no luck.