The surge of newfound power in his limbs caught him off guard. After catching his balance Ethan blinked in astonishment. The strength within him was a reservoir, coiled and ready to be unleashed. Never before had Ethan felt this good in his life.

He glanced down at his arms and could clearly see newfound definition in them.

A sense of exhilaration washed over him. Walking to a piece of debris he lifted it.

"YYeeeaaahhh boyyy thats what I"m talking about". He exclaimed. Marveling at himself, he tossed the junk to the side and began running around the chamber. No longer just the pathetic pinch of stamina that was his maximum, he felt like a real human.

Sprinting back, he busted through the rusty entranceway, quickly arriving at the place of his fateful fall. Heart pounding with anticipation he barreled up to the seemingly impossible to climb rubble strew hole. Jumping up with grace and power over eight feet and grabbing onto metal clad cable. With a great swing he found himself even further up and caught a handhold in the concrete. Like a force of nature he scaled the walls, fingers finding purchase in the smallest of crevices.

Yet, as always, the unbeknownst occurred. In a chain reaction, loose stones and ruble began to dislodge with such abuse, tumbling down below. As he noticed, his heart now raced for a much different reason. Realizing the danger he was in he doubled his efforts. Pushing his body to the limits, in a herculean effort he launched himself out of the crumbling pathway just as it caved in entirely.

Landing in a roll his body absorbed the energy of the impact. Scrambling to his feet he turned to look back at the small chasm. The previous entrance had vanished in a cascade of ruble, completely sealing the riches held beneath.

Only now truly realizing the gravity of his close encounter with the white horse of the apocalypse. He resolved to master his body lest his strength becomes a double edged sword.

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

Furthermore he began to remember the wretched ne'er do wells that forced him down there in the first place. grinding his teeth to sand as thought more of their horrid abuse.

Yet quickly, the anger was replaced.

They had to suffer, but he wanted something more. He realized his abilities had finally opened the door. They had to feel it, and begin to fear he, and now he possessed the key.

He looked up and began to smile. He had them, and he'd do it in style.

"First thing's first though". He thought. Reaching down he still had the fission cell secured in his pocket.

Dust-covered and resolute he turned away from the rubble. Retracing his steps through the labyrinthian ruins with purpose he found himself back at ground zero for the ambush. No sign of life, he quickly proceeded towards his hideout. Unwilling to take any chances just yet he kept his gaze sharp and vigilant. His steps were steady, each one bringing him ever so closer to his gangs make-shift shelter. Sprinting now, finally he could clearly see it materialize in the distance.

The dilapidated building was nestled within the ruins of the city, a sanctuary from the chaos of this unforgiving world. As he approached he could hear the familiar sounds of his companions. Entering Ethan was greeted by the faces of his makeshift family.

Yet as soon as they noticed him he was met with a collective gasp and now frozen faces with eyes of disbelief.

"What's going on boys”. He said to break the tension, but that ice remained at absolute zero.

Soon a big bald man stepped forward.

He had a scar on his left eye, rough skin, bulging muscles, and wore tattered steel armor that covered his chest, groin and shins. "Brother Ethan, you're back! You've been gone for ages. We went out looking for you but couldn't find a trace. We assumed you bit the dust".

"Brother Bruce, how is that possible? I've only been gone for a few hours''. Ethan replied, brows furrowed in confusion.

A chorus of exchanged glances and hesitant nods met him, followed by the reluctant voice of Bruce. "Ethan, it's been over a week".

The words hung in the air, followed by the surreal realization setting over Ethan. A week? It couldn't be.

As the others took sight of him their eyes widened further at the extreme change to his physique. His muscles larger, frame more robust, and face free of scars. He had almost become a different person entirely.

Noticing the gazes Ethan instinctively reached for his right bicep, flexing it experimentally. The sensation was still foreign yet undeniably powerful.

After a moment of stunned silence Ethan began to share the debacle he had been through, with the crew.