The bathroom door burst open in the diner, and a man in a familiar pilot's uniform stormed out, his face annoyed but focused. "Can you believe they're out of god-fucking-damn toilet paper? What kind of bullshit place doesn't fuckin--" His words died in his throat as his eyes locked onto Dashuan.

Recognition dawned on his face, followed swiftly by his eyes enlarging to the vast size they had when he had been ripped from the seat of his speeding jet. "It's him!"

"It's Titaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan!" the pilot screamed, causing the people who had already figured that out to rustle as he held a high note.

Chairs scraped against the floor as agents leapt to their feet, hands flying to their weapons.

The air filled with the metallic sound of guns being cocked and safeties being disengaged.

Dashuan's body moved before his mind.

He launched himself backward, flipping the table as he did so nearly onto Derek. The heavy wood provided a momentary shield as the first volley of bullets tore through the air as the young agent dove for cover.

Time seemed to slow down as Dashuan's heightened senses took in every detail of the diner's once rustic setting and turned into something out of a movie.

He saw the fear in the civilians' eyes as they also dove for cover. He saw the sweat on the faces of the agents as they advanced, weapons trained on him and firing rapidly.

But something caught his eye the most, Dashuan noticed Derek, now standing apart from the others, his gun regardless holstered as he stared at him.

Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Dashuan saw something in Derek's gaze that he hadn't expected--

Mercy.

That fleeting stare gave Dashuan the strength he needed.

With a thunderous crash, he burst through the diner's roof, wood and shingles raining down as he rocketed into the sky.

"Fuck yeah! No collatoral."

Bullets whizzed past him, but Dashuan was already accelerating beyond their spread. He climbed higher and higher, leaving the diner, Area 68, and the chaos he had caused with his presence.

Dashuan found himself faced with a new question:

What now?

He had no home to return to, not one friend he could turn.

He was truly alone, adrift in a world that now saw him as a threat--nothing about his powers being visible made anything change.

Lost in thought, Dashuan barely noticed as he climbed higher and higher into the atmosphere.

The oxygen grew thin, the temperature plummeting to a nipping frost, but his powers seemed to protect him from the worst effects as ice crystals formed on his skin.

Curious about the extent of his capabilities, Dashuan pushed himself further, ascending into the uppermost layers of Earth's atmosphere in an attempt to test his limits.

The curvature of the planet became visible below him, a breathtaking sight that momentarily distracted him from his troubles; The expansive blue of the oceans, the puffy white swirls of clouds, the patchwork of States that made of the country he had grown up in--it was a view reserved for astronauts and satellites, and now him.

"I guess not even Arc can see this...I wonder if she is okay."

Exhilarated by the vista and the seemingly limitless nature of his powers, Dashuan decided to test his boundaries further in an attempt to forget The Other.

Wondering if he could withstand the vacuum of space itself as he neared the edges of the firmament; he finally pushed beyond the atmosphere, and the last wisps of breathable air disappeared.

Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author's consent. Report any sightings.

Dashuan's lungs burned, crying out for oxygen like a newborn child.

The intense vacuum of space began to seep his skin, boiling his blood in his veins and searing the valves of his palpitating heart.

Panic set in as he realized he had gone too far, pushed too hard.

Dashuan tried to turn back, to descend to the safety of Earth's atmosphere, but his movements were sluggish, quickly beginning to catch velocity.

His vision was too murky, Dashuan could not hold out any longer.

The last thing he saw before losing consciousness was the beautiful blue orb of Earth, tantalizingly far yet impossibly close as he barreled toward the surface.

He plunged through the atmosphere, his unconscious body heating up as it fell. Dashuan's eyes snapped open. Instinct took over, and he pulled up sharply, his feet skimming the ground as troughs of fire and cracked earth reacted to his resisting energy against the gravity of the planet.

A startled squirrel exploded audibly as Dashuan barely missed it, the tiny creature's legs melted to the ground defiantly. Dashuan held back a cry of anguish, figuring if this was the same bold squirrel from earlier, or perhaps all squirrels had suddenly developed a fascination with him.

"I-I'm so sorry, little guy," Dashuan voiced, still shaken from his near-death experience. The adrenaline of his fall faded and a wave of frustration washed over him.

Dashuan had nearly killed himself trying to test the limits of powers he barely understood and ended up taking another life, even when trying to be as far away from others as possible.

He needed guidance, someone who could help him navigate this new reality.

His thoughts turned to Arc--

Arc seemed to have a better grasp on her abilities, and more importantly, she hadn't immediately attacked Dashuan when they first met.

Maybe if he just found her--

But how to find her? Dashuan had no idea where Arc might be, or even how to begin searching for another Aberrant.

He nonetheless flew aimlessly for hours, scanning the streets of New Heaven below for any sign of unusual activity, any hint of superhuman abilities that maybe he could detect.

But the city remained stubbornly normal, offering no clues to Volt's whereabouts as he flew against the blackened night sky.

Weary and dejected, Dashuan found himself drawn back to the one place he had called home--

His studio apartment.

As he approached the familiar neighborhood, his heart sank.

Where his building had once stood was now a charred husk, the remnants of the fire that had consumed it still visible.

Dashuan walked softly among the ruins after landing in a nearby alley, picking his way through the debris. Everything he had owned, every memento of his past life, had been reduced to ashes.

Even his prized Slayer-Man plushies with customizable greeting was gone; the only thing of his father he had left.

Dashuan pulled the picture of his mother from his empty wallet, staring at the strange tattoos that adorned his mother's shaved head and the dark-robed people who stood around her the day of his birth.

A wave of melancholy washed over him.

For the first time since the Mayor's office, Dashuan allowed himself to truly feel the weight of what had happened.

He had unimaginable power, yes, but at what cost?

His home, his privacy, his very identity had been stripped away like nothing.

Lost in his thoughts, Dashuan's feet carried him aimlessly through the glimmering city streets.

The sun had been set, and the nightlife of the city was coming alive. Neon signs flickered to life, music spilled out from noisy bars and clubs, and people dressed in their 'finest' began to fill the sidewalks.

Almost without realizing it, Dashuan found himself outside a popular nightclub he had always wished he had entered when working his job at the stadium. The pulsing beat of the music called to him, promising a few hours of escape from his troubles. On a whim, he decided to go in.

He had never been much for clubbing before, but maybe losing himself in the crowd was exactly what he needed.

Strobe lights flashed in dizzying spiral patterns, the heavy bass music was so deafening he could feel it in his eye sockets, and the press of bodies on the dance floor was almost claustrophobic as people bumped and ground against his body un-consensually.

He stood there and considered leaving, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.

Taking it all in though, he realized something surprising--he was just another face in the crowd.

No one was pointing at him, no one was running in fear. In the dim light and absurd ambiance of the club's most crowded night, he was just another haunter looking for a good time.

Dashuan's shoulder fell, settling low enough for him to rest his hands in the pockets of his jeans which were now closer to jean shorts from all the fighting.

He made his way to the bar, ordered a drink, and allowed himself to relax; Dashuan would just start a tab, this was a place he wanted to come back to while also not wanting to upset the owner with another attempt at dining and dashing.

The rhythmic pulse of the music began to work its witchcraft, reverberating with repeated thunder.

Dashuan found his body swaying in time with the beat.

He surveyed the crowded dance floor when a sudden flash of recognition jolted through him.

There, behind the vodka-stain-covered DJ booth, was a skeletal face he knew all too well. A face that had haunted his nightmares for years--

That had driven him back to this city with thoughts of vengeance while knowing the danger of staying in their final resting place.

It was him.

The boy--

no the creature, whose blood-manipulation powers had been used to slaughter Dashuan's family years ago. The catalyst for Dashuan's return to the city, the reason he had been here trying to stake out a shitty living slinging meat tube.

How was this possible? How could the person responsible for so much pain and suffering be here, casually spinning tracks and hyping up the crowd as if he didn't have the sacred blood of innocents on his hands?

Dashuan had spent so long searching for this man, planning his revenge, and now here he was, barely 400 feet from where Dashuan's apartment had stood before burning to the ground by his own hand.

All this time, they had been practically neighbors.

The music faded to a dull roar in his ears, the flashing lights seemed to no longer bother him as he breathed heavily.

All he could see was the face of the man who had taken everything from him, grinning and chuckling as if he didn't have a care in the world as more cocaine was passed to his greedy slurping nostril.

He could feel his powers responding to his emotions, surging just beneath his skin.

The glass bottle in his hand shattered, shards falling unnoticed to the floor as the crowd danced to the rhythms the abomination played.

Dashuan's eyes began to glow, the light emanating from them developing brighter and more brilliant until it outshone even the more white powerful strobes of the club.

People nearby began to notice, stepping back in alarm, but Dashuan paid them no mind.

All of his focus was concentrated on one thing--

The sick man behind the DJ booth.

The man who had no idea that his past had finally caught up with him.

The man who was about to learn the true meaning of retribution.