Lucian opened his eyes slowly, raising his eyebrows high in hopes of forcing his tired eyes open. The grating sound of an alarm clock blared into his ears from the left side of his bed.

The young boy raised a heavy hand and narrowly avoided palming himself in the face as he brushed his long blonde locks out of his face. A loud shout and a bang on Lucian's door killed any nascent fantasy of unplugging his alarm clock and collapsing into his warm bed.

"Lucian, wake up; you'll miss breakfast if you keep lollygagging."

"I'm coming, Mom," Lucian shouted in response. His voice and body were heavy with sleep. Lucian dragged himself up and out of bed, swinging himself to his feet with all the coordination of a drunk as he raised his hands and rubbed his eyes. Blindly stumbling around his bedroom on muscle memory, Lucian slithered into his crumpled school uniform.

Lucian's eyes slid over his alarm clock and read the time before exclaiming in a slightly panicked voice, "Seven fifty. Shit!"

Suddenly, any previous sloth left his body as he turned into a whirlwind of action. Running out of his room and knotting his blood-red tie, he slid on his socks into the bathroom to do his business and brush his teeth simultaneously while inwardly mocking himself for how disgusting that was.

Towards the end of Lucian's rampage through the upstairs to get ready, he stopped by the mirror to check himself out and tie back his long blonde hair into a bun.

Ice blue eyes stared back at him as he took in his bedraggled appearance, white dress shirt wrinkled to the nine hells, top button undone with a loose skinny tie and a crumpled black blazer; his eyes ran down the rest of his body before he reached down and pulled his undone fly up, Lucian spun on his heels to see his older sister who was looking at him with an expression of mild disgust.

"Morning, Hel," said Lucian before his sister cut him off.

“Ah no… I saw that you Neanderthal”

Lucian rolled his eyes as he slipped by her and down the stairs, muttering, "Fair enough."

Heading into the kitchen, Lucian stopped by the breakfast table before shoving a handful of crispy bacon into his maw and choking it down. The pork flavor violently clashed with the frosty mint flavor that clung to his mouth.

Turning around, he spotted his mother standing leaning against the sink and staring balefully at him. "Seriously, Lucian, were you raised in a barn?" she asked quizzically, raising an eyebrow towards the boy as if expecting a serious answer. Before her eyes dropped and she scanned his face, a more quizzical expression impressed itself into her features.

Lucian began recoiling as she stretched her hand out, but he was too slow. He pressed her palm to his cheek and then his forehead.

"Your really pale, Lucian. Are you feeling alright?" she asked with a subtle note of worry.

Lucian brushed his mother's hand off his cheek, his face heating slightly at her coddling.

"I'm fine, Mom. Besides, I don't think I look any paler than usual," he said.

He stood there stiffly, awkwardly enduring the Mom Stare—that sharp, scrutinizing look only mothers seemed capable of. The silence stretched, and just as he started feeling trapped, his eyes flicked to the clock.

"Oh, crap, I'm gonna be late!"

Seizing the excuse, he slipped past her, grabbed his backpack, and bolted for the door. He wasn't wholly delusional—he knew the chances of making it to the bus stop in time were slim. But still, he ran.

Pumping his legs as hard as he could, he tore across the asphalt like a specter—though, unfortunately, a very slow one. His effort was rewarded by the sight of his bus pulling away, the rumbling engine a mocking farewell.

Slumping onto the bus stop bench, Lucian sighed before fishing his phone from his blazer pocket. A few swipes later, the local news filled his screen.

LYCANTHROPE SUPER TERRORIST ARRESTED AT CALDERWOOD HIGH

A picture accompanied the headline: an eight-foot-tall werewolf, its hulking frame bound in thick chains from wrists to ankles. Dense black fur bristled around the steel muzzle bolted over its snout while a group of armored SWAT officers dragged the restrained beast toward an armored van. Leading the arrest was a muscular, dark-skinned hero clad in primitive-looking bone Armor and layered pelts.

Lucian tapped on the article and skimmed through the grisly details.

If you encounter this narrative on Amazon, note that it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

Edward Callen, age sixteen, underwent a late awakening before transforming into a monstrous wolf-like form and dismembering several classmates.

His stomach turned.

A maintenance staff member, Kyle Alfreds, triggered the panic button, activating the intruder alert and school defense system, which immediately alerted the heroes. Upon their arrival, Callen identified himself as A-rank hero Apex but refused to comply with orders to surrender and power down.

Lucian scrolled further, eyes scanning the screen as tension coiled in his chest.

Apex requested backup before engaging Callen, who has been officially designated a supervillain. He faces charges of murder, destruction of property, resisting arrest, refusal to power down, and several other offenses. Apex managed to subdue and detain him, allowing for a swift arrest by B.O.S.A.

Lucian exhaled sharply through his nose and continued scrolling. Three school portraits came into view—three boys, barely older than him, dressed in maroon and white uniforms, smiling like any other day. Beneath each face, their names were listed: Alex, Curtis, Arthur.

Then came the crime scene photos.

Lucian's fingers tensed around his phone.

The boys were barely recognizable. Their bodies were nothing more than twisted, broken lumps of flesh, torn apart with horrific force. Blood stained the floor, splattered the lockers, and pooled into sickening, dark puddles.

A quiet anger simmered in his chest.

That fucking animal practically repainted the halls with those boys.

His grip tightened.

What the hell is wrong with people like this? How do so many get drunk off a bit of power and just—do something like this?

Lucian clenched his jaw as he stared at the screen, the weight of it settling in his gut like a stone.

Superhuman abilities were supposed to be a gift—something that could elevate the species and push humanity toward something greater.

But all too often, people used them for nothing but destruction.

It was disgusting.

The dull, eco-friendly bus hissed to a stop. Lucian rose from the bench, forcing himself to bury his lingering anger—the quiet, burning indignation toward what he saw as the epitome of senseless, callous violence. He flashed his bus card to the driver without a word and glided down the aisle to the back of the bus. The usual crowd was long gone, leaving the seats empty, a silent reminder of how late he was.

Sinking into a seat, Lucian pulled out his phone. There was only one thing to do when the weight of reality pressed too heavily on his mind—distract himself.

The overly loud startup chime blared as the SUPERCELL logo flashed onto the screen. He barely noticed, already lost in the familiar rhythm of clashing his clan, letting the mindless taps and clicks drown out his thoughts. Minutes blurred together until, at last, the bus groaned to a stop.

Lucian strolled off the bus, muttering a half-hearted "Thanks" to the driver as he passed. There was no point in rushing now—he was already late. With his pace unhurried, he reasoned that the difference between being a little late and a lot late didn't really matter.

When he finally entered the school's automatic doors, he went to the front desk, where the receptionist waited. She didn't bother hiding her irritation, leveling him with a tired, unimpressed stare. Her voice was thick and gravelly, a tone that sounded like a lifetime of chain-smoking and crushed hopes.

"Late again, Mr. Hallows. You're making this quite the habit, aren't you?"

Lucian felt his face heat, a flash of embarrassment tightening his chest. His recent streak of lateness and absences wasn't lost on anyone, least of all himself.

"Yeah… sorry. I just—" he paused, his voice dropping with a mix of shame and frustration. "I have no excuse. I need to do better."

As the words left his mouth, the truth of them settled uncomfortably in his mind. He wasn't just letting the school down—he was letting himself down. Every time he made an excuse or avoided responsibility, it gnawed at him.

The receptionist gave a slow nod, more out of boredom than sympathy.

"See that you do, Mr. Hallows. Now be on your way—you're late enough as it is."

She pressed a button, and the electronic gate buzzed, unlocking with a metallic click. Lucian pushed through the gate and into the school proper.

The halls were mercifully quiet as Lucian slipped into his chemistry class, making his way to the back of the room. His best friend, Ajax, gave him a wordless nod, and Lucian returned the gesture before pulling out his notebooks.

The hours crept by, a blur of formulas, lectures, and half-hearted note-taking. Finally, the bell rang, marking the most important part of the day—lunch.

As Lucian and Ajax strolled toward the lockers, the familiar comfort of routine settled over him. For the first time that day, conversation felt easy—natural.

"You wanna hit the gym again and do some sparring?" Lucian asked, already knowing the answer.

Ajax smirked. "You bet your ass I do—but you need to cool it with those kicks. I know you're pulling them, but until we get pads, you gotta ease up. I was covered in bruises after last time."

Lucian blinked, guilt creeping in. "Oh… sorry, man. I didn't realize I was hurting you."

He scratched the back of his neck, his long blonde hair slipping loose from its bun.

"I'll stick to grappling and punching until the pads arrive. Honestly, I can't kick with any less force without slowing down too much."

As they reached the gym, a soft beep chimed when they scanned their key cards. The door clicked open, and a wave of blissful, air-conditioned air greeted them.

"Understandable," Ajax replied with a shrug.

The two exchanged a brief nod before heading into separate stalls to change into their workout clothes.

Lucian stepped out of the stall, his long blonde hair tied into a tight bun. He wore a black sweatshirt and matching pants, his typical workout attire. As he turned, he spotted Ajax emerging from his own stall, dressed in a similar style—only his outfit was white instead of black. His dark hair was tied up the same way, a habit they'd both picked up from training together.

They made their way to the exercise mats, exchanging only a few final words before beginning.

"Same rules as usual?" Ajax asked.

Lucian nodded, and that was all the invitation Ajax needed. Never one for patience, he exploded forward, closing the distance between them in a flash. He wound back his left arm for what looked like a haymaker, only to twist with the motion and transition into a spinning kick.

Lucian read the feint easily. He sidestepped the incoming kick, his body moving with Ajax's momentum. Dropping into a squat, he jabbed his elbow into Ajax's thigh before following up with a firm palm strike to his hip, sending his friend stumbling backward and onto the mat.

"You always start off too aggressive, brother. Totally wastes your speed," Lucian remarked, offering a hand.

Ajax grumbled but clasped Lucian's forearm, allowing himself to be pulled back up. They reset their stances, ready to go again—until the sharp beep of the keycard reader echoed through the gym.

The two exchanged a glance.

"Fuck me."

They knew the drill. Someone was coming. They'd have to stop until whoever it was left.

As the doors slid open, they both took in the sight of a tall, striking brunette. She moved with a predatory grace, her Amazonian build making her presence all the more imposing. Though she was their age, she towered over most people, a walking reminder of her superiority.

Lucian and Ajax muttered a silent curse.

Haleigh.

She scanned the gym before stalking toward them, her movement's fluid and deliberate, like a panther approaching its prey.

"I knew I'd find you two losers in here," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "How many times do I have to tell you? There's no point in this stupid little game. No matter how much you train, you're both powerless."

Her words were laced with venom, but neither of them needed to hear more to know where this was going. Haleigh was one of only two powered students at the school, and she hated them—especially Ajax.

After he'd had the "audacity" to break up with her, she'd taken every opportunity to make their lives miserable. And, unfortunately for them, she loved making a point of just how much stronger she was.