Back in Washington D.C., the Eagle's training was spiralling into failure. Exhaustion clung to David like a second skin, every breath coming with effort. Yet, John insisted they continue.

"Come on, Dave," John urged, his voice steady despite his own rapid breathing. "Where’s that fighting spirit gone?" He flexed his muscles, preparing to fend off the incoming wave of training bots.

David grunted, barely dodging a drone’s strike aimed at his head. "What’s the point," he panted, "of ground training... when I’m supposed to be the Eagle?" He stumbled, not quick enough to avoid the next blow to his torso.

They continued until the simulation finally powered down. David immediately collapsed onto the mat, gasping for air. His mind raced—how long would it take before he was ready? Would he be prepared in time for the looming underground threat? And what was this threat exactly? All he knew was it involved an entity ruling a prison. But that couldn’t be the whole story.

When he finally caught his breath and managed to stand, he turned to John. “What exactly are we up against? What are these... creatures? And what is this prison?"

John remained unscathed, not a mark on him despite the gruelling session. His eyes clouded over, a sigh escaping his lips. “Arcane had a vision,” he began slowly, “and saw... things—beings, creatures, demons, whatever you want to call them. Dark entities. Lots of them. They serve something—someone. A ruler, maybe.”

David frowned, scepticism clouding his features. “And you actually believe that?” His tone was sharp, almost incredulous.

John’s expression hardened. His grey hair, which had always seemed like the only mark of age on his fit body, began to crackle with static energy. The very air around him seemed to hum, charged with an almost palpable force.

Without a word, John raised his hand. A bolt of lightning appeared in his palm, crackling violently. He hurled it toward a nearby tree. There was a loud crack, and the tree exploded into ash, silver sparks scattering in the air.

David’s jaw dropped. His heart pounded as he processed what he had just witnessed. John wasn’t wearing any special suit. He had summoned that lightning with nothing but his bare hands. What was he?

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“What... what are you?” David stammered, a mix of awe and fear gripping him.

John lowered his hand, the sparks dissipating. “I’m human,” he said, though his tone was not as certain as the words. “At least, I was. During the war, my unit camped near an old mine. We were wounded, desperate. And then... something happened. I felt my veins ignite. Like my body was on fire.”

He paused, his gaze distant, lost in memories of battle. “The next thing I knew, I was throwing lightning from my fingertips. It was... chaos.”

David stared, still reeling. “So, what? You just... became this?

John nodded, the barest hint of a grim smile tugging at his lips. “I didn’t understand it at first. I met Arcane a few years later. He made me feel... less alone, less like a freak. He told me that his astral sorcerer friends noticed something strange. In 1986, their powers shifted, like an external force was messing with the natural order.”

John’s eyes darkened. “Arcane thinks something else was involved. He suspects an entity—something ancient—took over my body. It uses me as a vessel.”

David’s breath caught. “Like the ruler of the prison?” he asked, his voice quieter now, uncertainty creeping in.

“I hope not,” John said, his tone heavy. “But I have control—at least, for now. That thing, whatever it is, doesn’t dominate me.” His hand twitched, and sparks danced along his fingers. “But I worry. What if I lose control? What if it takes over? I could hurt people, destroy everything I’ve sworn to protect.”

A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “The irony, right? I’m supposed to save people, but I might be their biggest threat.”

David let the words sink in. The weight of the conversation settled over him like a heavy cloak. He finally spoke, voice low. “Why you?”

John met his gaze, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know,” he replied quietly. “But you’re not the only one carrying a burden, Dave. I understand guilt. And we can make things right. We can fix what we’ve done.”

A surge of anger welled up inside David, cutting through the exhaustion. He remembered the screams, the faces below as he rained destruction down on innocents. The weight of his own past pressed on him like a crushing boulder.

“There’s a difference,” David said, his voice tight with barely contained fury. “You might hurt people, John. I already have. And even if you did...” He scoffed bitterly. “It wouldn’t be you. It’d be that thing inside you.”

John’s face remained stoic, but his eyes told a different story. They were full of pain, regret, understanding. “I was the only one to come out of that mine alive.”

With those parting words, John turned and left the training grounds. David watched him disappear, his mind racing with possibilities—none of them good.