“Cho man! This power is giving me a lot of trouble enuh.”

Devon sat pensively on the sandy shore of the secluded cove, absently trailing his fingers through the lapping waves. It had been four days since he and Tanya were last here training their fledgling superpowers. The memory of her vicious shapeshifting episode still weighed heavily on his mind.

He understood Tanya needed time to recover, both physically and mentally. Pushing her abilities to such dangerous limits had clearly overwhelmed the poor girl. But Devon was anxious to resume training together. There was so much more he wanted to discover about his own blossoming skills.

With a sigh, Devon rose and dusted the sand off his shorts and bare chest. No point moping about. He would just have to be productive on his own for now until Tanya was ready.

Devon spent some time gathering empty conch shells and lining them up on a flat rock slab to create targets. Clenching his fist, he focused on discharging a thin bolt of electricity from one dreadlock.

Crackle!

The strand whipped to life. Devon gritted his teeth, carefully manipulating the writhing energy whip towards the targets. After several attempts, shells went flying from precise hits.

"Yes! My aim is getting better," Devon grinned. Next, he tried splitting the current into multiple tasers at once. Controlling their chaotic lashing took immense concentration but Devon was making progress.

He was so focused on the task, that Devon failed to notice the figure emerging from the lapping sea behind him - a powerfully built Rastafarian with a mane of salt-and-pepper dreadlocks. The man watched Devon practice curiously while wringing ocean water from his rope-like hair.

Only when the man cleared his throat loudly did Devon whirl around in shock, quickly dissipating the arcing dreadlock energy.

"Iyah bless, bredren," the Rastafarian greeted in a deep, soothing voice. His kind eyes twinkled. "Such interesting abilities yuh have. Is you one of the Coco heroes?"

Devon hesitated, unsure how to respond. He yearned to confide his deep aspirations to this stranger. But also feared being dismissed as some reckless youth playing pretend hero.

"Uh, yeah... yeah man, mi a Guardian Ranked hero," Devon claimed unconvincingly.

Hero Ranks: Fledgling - Acolyte - Sentinel - Guardian - Warlord - Island Legend.

Reflecting on the hero ranking list, the man arched a bushy eyebrow at what Devon said but did not argue. "I see, I see. And what them call you?"

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Devon scrambled for a suitable alias. "The name's... Blur," he responded, thinking of his enhanced sprint speed.

"Fitting," chuckled the Rastafarian. He reached down to unstrap a weathered bongo drum that had been floating beside him in the surf. Seeing Devon's puzzled expression, he explained, "Old habit carrying this drum everywhere. Never know when the spirits move yuh to play."

Devon’s eyes darted around slowly for an excuse to slip away from this odd encounter. But something about the man intrigued him also.

As Devon inched backwards, his foot brushed a loose stone. When it tumbled down towards the shoreline, Devon instinctively tried to halt its descent with a thin strand of crackling dreadlock energy. But in his flustered state, his focus broke and instead, the rock exploded into shards from the uncontrolled electrical surge.

Devon cringed as the Rastafarian's eyes widened in surprise. But then the man threw back his head and laughed.

"I knew it! Yuh power's still new and raw," he chuckled. "Nothing is wrong with that. We all start as seedlings. Given time and care, yuh will blossom and grow."

Devon flushed, both embarrassed and relieved to be found out. "Yeah, yuh right," he admitted. "Mi abilities just developing. I train out here alone trying to improve."

The Rastafarian smiled kindly and walked over. "Yuh remind me of myself as a youth - hungry to understand the gifts life blessed me with."

He extended a hand. "I am Ras Nine. And it seems you could use some guidance, young hero. What yuh say?"

Devon eagerly shook the man's rough palm. "I would be honoured, Ras. Mi name is Devon."

Ras Nine nodded sagely. "Devon... a noble name. Now, why don't yuh walk with mi a bit and tell Ras more about these talents yuh have."

Together they strolled down the beach while Devon described how his dreadlocks had gained the power to discharge electricity after being swarmed by Coco mosquitos.

Ras listened intently, stroking his beard. "Interesting, very interesting. What yuh have is rare Dynakinetic ability. Specifically electrokinesis channelled through yuh locks. One of the rarest Coco Power manifestations."

Devon's eyes lit up hearing there was a term for abilities like his. "Yeah? How yuh know so much about Coco Powers, Ras?"

The Rastafarian winked. "I have some experience with them personally." He stopped walking and faced the sea. "Watch now."

Raising one arm, Ras Nine furrowed his brow in focus. Suddenly, several of his dreadlocks lifted and extended directly outward, crackling with electricity. Like living tendrils, they lashed out as one to cleave an enormous boulder jutting from the surf cleanly in half!

BOOM!

Devon watched, dumbstruck as the severed rock halves crashed into the foamy water. Ras Nine turned back to him with a humble smile as his locks settled docilely against his back once more.

"By the fire, yuh have the same power as me!" Devon exclaimed. His mind raced excitedly. Learning directly from this master rasta could fast-track his own skills.

Ras Nine raised a hand. "Similar, but also different. Yuh journey is yuh own. I sense much potential though." He glanced at the sun nearing its apex. "Ras must take him leave now. Perhaps we train together soon."

"Wait, when can I see yuh again?" Devon asked anxiously as the Rastafarian gathered up his bongo drum.

Ras Nine chuckled. "Patience, young warrior. We will connect when the time is right."

With that cryptic assurance, Ras cantered his weight then sprang up at a sharp angle, rocketing over the rocky cliffs before disappearing out of sight within seconds. Devon could only stare in awe.