It was just another ordinary day in the city. The cicadas chirped obnoxiously outside while the Sun relentlessly hammered down on the blacktops.

It was just another day.

Why wouldn't I think it was? Just another Crappy summer day in good old Winter Park, Florida, or so I thought. Who would have known everything was suddenly about to go haywire? How could anyone have known?

Let me just stop right here. I guess this would be the part of the tale where I give my history or backstory. I mean, I've got to provide you with some of the character detail, right? Explain a little about myself. Probably best to let you know exactly who I am, right? Let me start from the beginning. My name's Dean Darren Fairaday, and at the moment, I am 30 years old. Well, at least I think I am. After all these years, I can't tell you what day it is anymore, let alone how old I really am. Based on my biological clock alone, I'm somewhere in the ballpark of 30, but inside I'm closer to 22 or 23.

We both know how many strange abilities exist nowadays, so it shouldn't be that strange that I don't remember my actual age.

But I digress. This story has a beginning and an end. That is if you consider the present as an end. But even to this day, everything is still crazy.

The building shuddered with convulsions caused by mortar fire.

Yeah, I should probably explain that too, but we will get there…eventually. Let me take you back. Back to the days of bliss and economic instability. During a time when the American people lacked awareness of the world. A day when money meant everything, and our security as a nation was solid.

Back in the days when mutants and superpowers were only seen on television and in the movies. Back when kids my age were only worried about social media and video games. Back when my biggest issue was what card game I would play and which tournament I would compete in.

The Year was 2015; I had just given up trying to go back to college for the 10th time and was pretty sure I would make a living off playing card games professionally. I was just as ignorant as everyone else and was more worried about what I would eat for dinner than I was about someone from a foreign nation attacking us and ending our peaceful existence.

Hell, I was only 19; what did I care about what was happening in the world? But to this day, I wish I had paid attention to everything happening in the background. Maybe then I would have been remotely prepared for the onslaught of destruction and chaos ensuing on that fateful day.

Perhaps I could have spent time physically and mentally conditioning myself to survive in this post-apocalyptic world we live in today. That should have been my focus instead of worrying about what cards I would put in my deck to earn a quick buck by beating people in a tournament. It's been a long time since I have been able to relax, and even now, as I'm telling you this story, I'm pretty sure you are just as high-strung and ready for battle as me.

More explosions shook the underground Bunker. However, unlike previous rumblings, this barrage caused the dim light fixtures to flicker, and small particles from the cavern ceiling above dispersed from their resting space.

But in this day and age, we need to hold on to any kind of peace we can get. That's what keeps us sane in these chaotic times. So let me take you back to that sunny day I started this tale. Perhaps then I can finally tell you my side of this whole stupid adventure, and hopefully, you will be able to decide whether or not you can trust me and my cause.

If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

---10 years Ago, Early 2015---

"I think the absolute worst part about living in Florida is this stupid heat," I said, wiping the slowly forming sweat from my forehead. "Chase, one of these days, I'm going to get out of this place. I'm telling you now; I have big things in store. I'll travel the world and be the best there ever was; I'll start with becoming a national champion, then take worlds and be the first American World Champion in this stupid game."

Chase just scoffed, "Dean, you're crazy; you don't even have the attention span to win a normal local tournament, let alone something on that scale. You should just give up; maybe at least then you'll be able to do something with your life and not be held down by your senseless dreams."

The boy whom I'd known my entire life waved his hand dismissively.

His words drew the attention of something primal inside of me, but I let it go. What did he know? He was just as bad at the card game in question as I was.

I checked my wristwatch and saw it was 1:23 pm. This made me laugh. "Hey, Chase, 1:23, you'll never be better than me."

My terrible pun caused Chace to reach over and slug me in the arm, causing me to stumble and nearly trip on the pavement.

"You do stupid crap like that all the damn time; grow up, man, seriously." Chase shook his head in disappointment before walking towards his apartment, five blocks away from the park that had been our daily hangout since we were kids.

It was just another stereotypical summer day. For years my best friend Chase and I would follow the same daily pattern; the two of us would come to the park and get hotdogs from the guy who had been there with his little food card for as long as I could remember. After we ate, we would fish in the lake or play our favorite card game for a few hours until it was time to head back to his place.

Due partly to the simple fact that all of our shared friends were coming over, and by everyone, I mean our entire group of eight other losers just like us who lived for this stupid game.

"So Marco and Renan are coming, right?" I would always put extra annunciation on the REN part of my buddy's name, even though I knew that Renan was Brazilian, so his R was pronounced with the H sound instead of the typical English pronunciation. However, since I was our residential group's "smart ass," I would always say Ren instead of Hen. Well, that and because I'm just a typical "American swine," as Renan would always say.

"Dean, one of these days, Renan is gunna kick your teeth in if you keep saying his name wrong, and don't just blow me off with your stupid "I can take anyone" phrase tha…."

"OI, it's not stupid." Not allowing Chase to finish his statement, I swiftly interjected, " I'm serious. If he wants to try me and throw a fist, I have no problem obliging him. I don't care if he has been practicing Jujitsu his entire life. I can take him."

Bantering between ourselves, the two of us turned the last corner of the trek home and were about a block away from Chase's house when a green pickup truck sped past, Music and bass pounding loudly, making Chase and I jump to the side, scared witless.

"JESUS, MAN, what the hell Is that guy thinking?" Using the back of my hand, I wiped the nervous sweat from my brow; however, before I could finish my thought process, it was cut short by the sound of metal on metal, which had effectively stopped me dead in my tracks.

With widened eyes, I watched in slow motion as an 18 Wheeler Semi Truck effortlessly sliced through the same pickup that had sped past us not even ten seconds earlier.

Even though the semi-driver had slammed his brakes to stop, there wasn't enough time to halt his forward momentum, and the massive 80-ton truck had still cut through the insignificantly small vehicle effortlessly.

The semi's brakes screeched loudly as the driver attempted to stop his truck until he had completed the task. Screams echoed, and the smell of burning rubber and gasoline flooded my nostrils.

Looking over at my best friend, I noticed his face was contorted into a horrified expression. I watched as he dropped his backpack and silently collapsed to his knees. It took me a moment to realize why he was reacting as he had. His brain had registered something light-years before mine. He had recognized the truck slumped into two halves on either side of the semi.

Like Chase, I, too, knew that green pickup truck, but I had yet to come to the realization and recognize whom the car belonged to, but Chase, he knew.

Turning slowly towards the destroyed pickup, I scanned it with my eyes, comparing it to any other familiar vehicle in my memory. But for some reason, my brain didn't seem to be able to process data properly at that moment.