Bright purple lightning boomed across the gray, murky sky. The thunder roared so ferociously that his car was rocking and shaking under the vibration. James was only able to hear the roar for a moment before he was left with a silencing ring, his ears overloaded. Wincing, he forced himself to look up. The sky was darkening further.

The air around him became so thick it felt like it could become solid, threatening to turn him into stone. His skin crawled as if the air around him was trying to get inside, feeling compressed under the pressure of the air. Muffled screams of drivers, stalling engines, and even a distant car crash assaulted his senses. Some cars were running off the highway, some screeching to a stop. James didn’t know what to expect from the space storm, but something so supernatural wasn’t one of them. In his panic, he breathed a deep gasp. James realized instantly that it was a huge mistake.

James felt as if his lungs were being seared as if condensed fire expanded in his lungs. From there, the searing pulsed through his body; his insides felt scorched with each rapid, panicked breath. His gut felt like it was being contorted and twisted, turning to mush as it realigned.

James doubled over, the twisting turned into a sharp punch. Every labored breath only made it worse. Forcing himself to sit up, James’ saw as his skin went from his usual pale complexion to shifting to a bright crimson glow, his horror-struck eyes reflecting the eerie glow he was emitting.

"What the hell do I do!?" James screamed, not able to contain his fear any longer. The panic threatened to overwhelm him. Desperately fighting for control, he noticed with growing terror that the aura surrounding him brightened and dimmed in sync with his breath. Smoke began to curl up from the car's interior, and in his frantic search for the source, he had a horrifying realization – he was the source.

As panic tightened its grip on him, the crimson aura seemed to engulf him. James teetered on the edge of despair, but James knew resilience coursed through his hardened veins. His father embodied this resilience; he never gave up, even when utterly defeated and in the direst situations. James, bearing the same name, wouldn't either.

The smoke curling around him was getting thicker. James had to suppress his habit of using his breath to calm himself. He knew he couldn’t stay in the car any longer. He yanked the door handle so hard he nearly ripped it off, in his panic barely avoiding tripping over the lip on the bottom of the door.

Stepping away from his car, James kept his breathing as short and steady as he could, fearing he would make the same mistake that caused the agonizing searing sensation through his lungs and body initially. James’ eyes were intense and sharp, fear and focus forming his eyes into a wide serious expression. His mind was operating in full survival mode, every thought he had was about the threats he faced.

He felt soothed by the presence of his gun, but he worried the glow and heat emanating from him could break it. The aura was getting brighter and a deeper crimson hue, and James decided to remove the strap of his AR15 from around him and place the firearm into the driver's seat. James noticed the strap was slightly smoldered and singed. James was beyond terrified, everything around him felt like it was crumbling.

Please! Please, when will this stop!? James shivered as his thoughts pleaded to the unknown. Despair set in as he watched the aura visibly brighten, inching closer to an inevitable unknown outcome.

James knew he was losing. This was a battle in the unknown, and he was losing. Unacceptable. James may have feared for his life, but James feared losing even more. James raised his head and puffed out his chest in swelling determination and confidence. Fear still clawed and scratched at him, but he was determined to win. Focusing on his slow, shaky breath.

His opponent appeared to detect his defiance, and the glow transformed into something far worse. To James’ utter shock, flame rocketed out of him. On all sides, he was surrounded by a torrential mass of flickering, crimson flame that extended several feet around him. His clothes instantly vaporized. The grass around him vanished, instantly incinerated. Nothing was left around him except dirt.

Shock was all that remained of James’ thought process. It was so beyond his expectations, so unbelievable, that he for a second couldn’t believe what he had seen with his own eyes. The detailed wisping of the crimson flame as it rocketed out of him, his now naked frame completely engulfed under a wall of fire, and the instant incineration of the grass – none of it was enough for him to believe what had just happened. However, he wasn’t spared time to think.

“No! My baby! Someone save my bab-” The shrill scream of a woman was cut off, bringing James out of his daze of disbelief. Looking in the direction of the scream, he saw the woman’s entire body being encased in thick, bright blue ice spreading from the center of her body. Her mouth was frozen over, but her wide, panicking eyes pierced through the car door as her head too completely froze. Her arms still desperately grasped for the door, trying to save her child in the backseat before her arms too became encased in ice. James tensed, his daze and self-preservation vanished, his entire being devoted to the rescue of the kid and mother.

He sprinted towards the mother and child, desperate to save them. When his legs left the grass for the asphalt, he was quickly reminded of the torching flame as the asphalt quickly melted, the liquid asphalt being blasted away from his legs before they could even touch. He could not help them. He would kill them the instant he got close. Dropping to his knees, his face contorted in pain. He felt so helpless, not even for himself, but for the mother and child who needed him. He could do nothing. Tears formed in his before they too were instantly vaporized.

His helplessness and anguish tormented him. He would given anything to trade places with that mother. His face contorted in anguish, the scorching flame preventing any tears. He vowed to himself that if he survived this he would help as many as he could. But first, he would need to control and master his flame before it killed him. Standing up, he gritted his teeth. Grasping for any semblance of a plan.

‘First, know your enemy.’ The memory of his father's guidance popped into his head. James knew what he had to do. He would continue to be no use to anybody or himself as long as he didn’t learn of the flame that surrounded him. Channeling his anguish into action, he allowed his mind to block everything else out, his flame and his body being the sole existence to him at the moment.

He focused on every sensation and detail. Every change in sensation, everything that felt unfamiliar. James noted the pressure that he had felt in his chest and stomach, along with the searing sensation that coursed through his entire body, had completely vanished. It was as if the flame had scorched these sensations away, consuming the internal pressure as a fuel source.

Even more bizarre, James felt no pain from the flame that didn’t hesitate to vaporize everything around him. If anything, the flames engulfing him felt warm and comforting, the opposite of any pain. However, he felt anything but soothed. If this was a warm soothing shower, he was also being waterboarded.

Looking closer at his stubborn flame, its rocketing bursts of fire oscilliated, the ebb and flow in rhythm with his breath. James couldn’t help but feel more confused, his racing mind trying to connect the dots as a realization tugged at his awareness. Why would my breath affect the flame? James hammered into his mind, cracking open the farthest reaches of his ability to process.

Remembering how his initial panic and attempt to control his breath started this phenomenon, and the sensation of the air around him trying to get inside of him, he suspected he was breathing whatever mystical substance came down from the cosmic storm.

The similarities striking, he suddenly remembered the teachings of his father’s Chinese martial arts instructor. James would listen in on the lessons, who would often talk about the power of chi, or life force. He explained how consistent practice can lead to the ability to control your chi, boosting physical prowess.

James would ask questions and his father revealed he found things like that to be ancient nonsense, preferring a more practical way to see things. However, his father respected his teacher’s wisdom nonetheless, liking the adaptability of his teacher's martial arts. Grasping at any semblance of an explanation, James focused on a fragment of the teachings. ‘Practice meditation and you will learn to harness your breath to gather your chi.’

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That nearly confirmed it to James. Breath is gathering this energy, but I can’t just stop breath–

James’ train of thought was interrupted by a man’s piercing screams. James’ thoughtful, distant eyes fixed on the man. Across the asphalt, he saw him running directly towards James, a whirlwind of debris surrounding him in a wall of dirt, dust, and broken rubber. He was too close to react in time. The wind was so thick in front of him that he could see it. His unceasing flame incinerated any of the debris before it could hit him. The powerful gusts cut through the consuming flame, temporarily extinguishing his left shoulder before it struck a glancing blow. Wrenching his shoulder it sent him tumbling through the air, striking the ground face-first and knocking him out.

Confused James stirred to consciousness. The taste of iron, the soreness of a split lip, and a swollen, busted cheek brought him back to the dangerous, hopeless reality he was now living in. He had no idea how long he had been unconscious. A feeling of helplessness dominated over him. Just when he thought he was making progress, another disaster struck. Overwhelmed didn’t even begin to describe it.

His ears rang as an echo from the fall, quieting the sound of the torching flame he had gotten used to hearing. The crimson flicker through his eyelids didn’t let him forget about it, however. Gritting his teeth, he opened his eyes and pushed himself back to his feet. Through sheer willpower, he subjugated his emotions. Surrender was not part of the Braddocks’ creed; his father’s legacy of perseverance within him burned brighter than the flame.

His eyes locking onto the man, James watched in horror as he ran around hopelessly in a frenzied panic, steering away from James’ position, much to his relief. His screams were louder than the raging wind around him. James’ mind felt twisted and pulled. He was in a state far beyond sensory overload. Too much to process, too many problems to deal with. But what could he do? With a heavy sigh, he watched in morbid, desperate curiosity.

The wind was a violent force around the man. It was an overwhelming maelstrom causing deepening cuts, intersecting into grotesque ‘X’ patterns. The wind howled louder as the man’s screams became more and more desperate. His entire body was gushing blood, hardly able to tell where one wound ended and started. Realizing this man’s fate, he forced himself to look away. Horror and sympathy sat heavily on him. If he survived through the day, he dreaded the haunting of the memories of what he’d seen. This was at least easier to bear for him than the mother and her child, he tried to console himself.

Not wanting another run-in with the personal hurricane that man was wielding, he ran to the other side of his car far enough away to not melt it, deciding it was a much safer position. James considered dashing into the woods away from the present chaos but quickly dismissed the idea. He was, of course, covered in some mystical flame, starting a forest fire everywhere he went would not be an improvement to his situation. He couldn’t drive off in his car because he’d melt it before he even got in. He was stuck.

He could run along the highway, but he’d be leaving behind his car, and it was likely he would run into something worse along the highway. He’d already seen enough. He would run to a better position along the highway only in the event he was forced to.

He surveyed his surroundings, he spotted a man pierced by a cluster of dirt spikes that rose from the ground, horror glued to his lifeless open eyes. Some cars were stopped in their tracks, not moving, going up in flames. Others had glass shattered with motionless people scattered throughout the interior, fates easy to guess. Killed by the elemental occurrences striking humanity.

It was too much to bear. The panicked breath began to retake hold, the flame still emanating off his skin fed off his panic. Tightening his fist and gritting his teeth, he knew he couldn’t get away with losing control of his emotions for much longer. He would have to shove what he’d seen as far away from the front of his mind as he could. He would come to terms later with what he had seen. With not a sound or sign of anybody around who was alive, he judged himself to be safe for the moment and got back to work.

Starting from what he knew, his breath and emotions had to be part of the key to this. They were the sole influences on any change in the flame so far. Shifting his attention to his body, the flame, and the resonance between, looking and feeling for anything else unordinary he could spot. Almost not believing himself again, there was a new sensation, a new ‘awareness’ James could feel in him. Once he found it, James couldn’t believe he didn’t notice it before. It was like he could ‘see’ his veins and the fire feeding from it.

Further bewildered, James closed his eyes focusing on the feeling of what he thought to be his blood vessels through his skin. They felt as if they were going to burst any second, like a dam way beyond its capacity. It had a constant tingling similar to when a limb ‘falls asleep’, but much more striking and powerful.

James tried to wrap his head around this. This fire is feeding off my blood? With a shake of his head at how insane this was, he squinted his closed eyes in focus and traced the veins through his body. Much to James' shock, he realized it wasn’t his blood vessels at all. Their sprawling pathways and structures defy all conventional understanding of blood vessels.

It was alive and animated in his mind’s eye. Despite it being unlike anything he’d ever experienced, it felt very familiar, distinctly his. The network snaking through his body illuminated a vivid, glowing crimson red that shined brightly to him. It wasn’t just a visualization, it was as if he had eyes that could see every detail of this network.

With another shake of his head, he set aside the strangeness of it all. He would have to save the disbelief for later. His focus sharpened on the network, determination keeping his desperation at bay; he maintained a calm, slow breath.

James noticed the crimson specks flowed outward from the center of his body, down to his limbs and extremities, sustaining the flame.

Where did these specks come from? James pondered, taking inspiration from the influence his breath had, he looked towards his lungs.

Looking closer at his chest, he noticed channels of coils looping around both of his lungs that met in the middle. From there, it went down a channel to his stomach, where it pooled into what could only be described as a pool or reservoir. Those coils must absorb the energy in the air, where it flows and is stored in the reservoir.

James was beside himself in shock. Was his father’s teacher right? Was chi real? Apprehension dominated his thoughts. James didn’t think this space storm created this network in him in that short amount of time, but he couldn’t be sure. James’ supposition was whatever came from space integrated with humanity, and for many, it was too much to handle.

He worried there wouldn’t be other survivors, everyone else on this highway but himself quickly died. Why was he so special? James felt alone most of his memorable life, but never this alone. He felt all there was in this world was him and this battle he was waging on his own body, the one thing he was taught to never let betray him. A strong body was a strong mind.

Dismissing his distracting emotions, James directed his attention back to the reservoir. He counted five pores that opened and connected to its own channel. One for each arm and each leg, and one that led to his head. The channel snaked through his brain and was completely shut, unlike the other pores. The possibilities of what would happen when he opened it fascinated him. Considering it irrelevant at this time, he didn’t waste time on it.

Mentally looking closer at his reservoir, he saw what looked like a pool of crimson particles. At that moment, James was looking at a whirling, raging tsunami. James could feel his signature within it, his emotions, his will, the particles responding to every shift in his mental state. The resonance with this energy reassured him that it was his own to control. He felt its power, and it was a firm reminder if he failed to control this power it would ultimately end him as it did all the others on this highway.

Thinking he understood the makeup of the systems at play well enough, he decided it was time to think of a solution for the flame. The reservoir in his stomach was where it was being fueled from, that he was sure of. He would start there.

Looking at the pores created by the connection of the channels and the reservoir, he got the idea to constrict and remove the flow of energy to the flame by closing the pores. Feeling the connection between him and this system, he asserted his will. Visualizing the pores closing, it responded barely at first; like rusted metal, refusing to budge.

Despite the reluctance of its movement, it filled James with hope renewing his vigor. He kept hammering his focus into it. Gradually, one by one, the pores began snapping shut. Getting the hang of it, he completely closed off all the pores. Opening his eyes, he saw the flame transform from a roaring, torching blaze extending several feet from his body to a steady but rowdy flame, and then down to a modest flicker of what it once was, now surrounding him in a pleasant aura. From there, it completely went out. The channels in his body dry, used up completely by the flame.

James was nearly euphoric in his accomplishment. James swelled with confidence. His victory over his powers asserted. The biggest concern now with his newfound powers was learning to control them. James felt like a toddler who had been handed a loaded gun, he did not know how to handle this power. He would have to figure it all out for himself and hope he didn’t make critical mistakes.

He would worry about that later though. He allowed himself to smile and breathe his first untensed breath since that storm hit before he worried about anything else. Enjoying his moment of victory. For the time being he was out of immediate danger, everything was still and silent around him, for better or for worse. There was at least nothing to threaten him anymore, but it came at the cost of so much. Shaking his head, James was exhausted from the assault of his constant emotions.

Shivering from the leftover adrenaline, or maybe the cold from being completely naked, he reached into the passenger seat for his duffel bag. Stepping in his car and sitting in the seat to feel slightly less naked, he put on the extra clothes he packed. One of his extra pairs of underwear, T-shirts, pants, socks, and hiking boots. Finally feeling clothed and secure, he was relieved.

Ready to head to Dahlonega, he sat for a second to think of anything he may have lost in the chaos. Realizing he had everything, he turned the ignition, but nothing. No response from the car. Neither the lights nor the dashboard lit up.