one
JAMES
I opened my eyes to a mix of shadow and glow. Above me, the night sky stretched out in deep purples and dark blues—rich and heavy, like a bruise or something regal. Stars scattered across it like silver flecks, while the darkness below felt thick and endless.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced around the wide, quiet neighborhood. One house stood out, blazing with light like a miniature Vegas strip. The glow pulsed in time with the music inside, and the heavy curtains swayed faintly with the beat.
The phone vibrated again before I finally pulled it out.
"How can I help you, Sam?" I said.
"You said you'd help me carry boxes into the basement," Sam muttered, clearly irritated.
"Yeah," I answered, already annoyed with myself.
"First of all," he said, lowering his voice, "this is a public neighborhood. People can see you."
So far, Hollywood was living up to its reputation.
"Second," he said, "Noah and Derek are helping me since you're out there, and—"
The sound of shattering glass blasted through my phone speaker, cutting Sam off and turning his voice into static.
My dad was standing in the doorway in his pajamas, eyes wide and bloodshot. He paced back and forth, dragging his hands through his hair. We both paused near the door, waiting.
"Derek's completely out in the lab," Noah muttered.
Dad's face tightened as he tried to think. His brow creased, and every deep breath came out in a visible cloud. He looked overwhelmed—red-faced, sweating, jaw clenched, eyes stretched wide with barely contained panic.
I didn't wait. I bolted down the basement steps and hurried to Derek.
Sam looked just as bad. His hair was filthy and tangled, his face flushed, dark circles carved deep under his eyes.
The basement itself was beyond saving. Boxes of Sam's experiments were scattered everywhere. One wrong step and you'd be standing on broken glass—and honestly, that would be the least of your problems.
"Sam, you'd better start explaining," I snapped from the bottom of the stairs, staring up at him.
Sam was clutching Derek to his chest, pressing his fingers against Derek's lips like that alone could keep him alive.
"He's not dead, James," Sam said quickly.
The problem was that Derek didn't exactly look alive. His skin was drained of color, his lips tinted blue, his body completely slack.
"So... that's what I looked like?" I asked, stepping over shattered equipment and scattered notes.
Noah went pale. Sam let out a quiet, "Yeah," before lowering Derek to the floor. "Put him on the couch or something," he added automatically—clearly forgetting I knew exactly what he was capable of.
I rolled my eyes, slid my arms under Derek's torso, and lifted him. He didn't even stir. Noah and Sam trailed behind me as I carried him into the living room.
The room was in chaos. Derek lay motionless on the sofa while Noah hovered nearby. My father stood rigid across the room, tall and imposing, his badge clipped to his belt, his gun resting heavily at his side. He never trusted Sam—and this wasn't helping.
Derek's head lolled against my shoulder before I eased him down. His face grew even grayer, dark circles deepening under his eyes, his hair a tangled mess.
"Dad," I growled, stepping between him and Sam, "calm down."
My father adjusted his holster and shot his brother a sharp, furious look. "Don't you ever pull something like this again, Samual."
Sam had backed himself into the corner, staring at the wall instead of meeting my father's eyes. He looked smaller somehow, shaken by the anger directed at him.
"I won't, Matt," he said quietly. "I promise."
Noah leaned over Derek, a tense energy rolling off him. It felt like electricity hung in the air, crawling across his skin. Even with his eyes closed, they shone faintly, almost too bright.
He stayed silent as he hovered above my brother and me, his hands suspended just above Derek's body. Then, suddenly, he struck—sending a sharp jolt through him.
"He's burning up," Noah growled.
Sam shook his head, glancing between Noah and me like he was hoping one of us had an answer.
"He's changing," Noah said quietly.
My father followed Noah's gaze, his face twisting with disgust. He muttered a rough denial, but it didn't matter. We all understood what Noah meant.
In the dark, Derek's eyes glowed with something that wasn't human. His skin had grown tougher over time, thick and leathery, and his muscles strained against his shirt as if his body were outgrowing itself. Derek used to joke about wanting special abilities. Back then, it seemed harmless.
Now that he actually had them, none of us was laughing. Whatever was happening to him had put us all in danger.
∆∆∆
DEREK
My vision blurred, my eyes feeling cloudy and strange. A soft purple glow hung in the air. I could barely make out the wooden arm of the couch, but my X-ray vision revealed enough to make me squirm. From this angle, the living room looked completely unfamiliar. I floated in the middle of the room, suspended with nothing to grab onto, unsure which way was up or down.
"James!" I called, my voice higher than usual as a cool breeze brushed against my skin and lifted me toward the ceiling. James peeked out from behind the couch, where he'd been hiding, while Noah stood at the far end of the room, grinning like he'd won something. Sam and my dad watched us carefully as Noah and I drifted up to meet James midair.
"How do I get down from here?" I groaned, squinting against the sunlight spilling through the front window.
Noah was practically vibrating with excitement, winking at me like he was daring me to freak out. Honestly, it was a little intimidating. My stomach twisted, nausea creeping in, like someone had smashed the butterflies out of me with an ice pick.
We floated there, bobbing gently. Noah had his phone out, seemingly unbothered by how we drifted around like fishing bobbers.
Everything else faded away. Noah's eyes glowed red, piercing through the dimness. His grin stretched impossibly wide—a Cheshire-cat kind of smile. I noticed the dimples on his cheeks, the ridges of his nose, every flicker of his gaze locked on mine.
Taking a deep breath, I cleared my head and let myself drop to the floor. My dad froze for a second before rushing to help me steady myself, while Sam nervously chewed at his hangnails. "Dad, I'm fine," I said, brushing myself off as adrenaline surged through me. I pulled myself up from the floor. Noah landed beside Sam, who was still peeking cautiously from behind the couch.
"No, you're not, Derek. That defies every law of physics," my dad snapped, shooting a sharp glance toward Sam. Was I really okay?
"Dad," James spoke up, "it's going to take some time to get used to." Noah nodded silently in agreement. I straightened up fully as my dad's eyes locked on James.
"You're right about that, James," he muttered. "How am I supposed to look normal with three kids who have... superpowers?" He glanced at Noah, then shot Sam an irritated look. Sam swallowed hard and coughed awkwardly.
"The boys are our responsibility, and Derek isn't alone. James and Noah are there to help him," Sam reminded him, though it seemed to only add more weight to Dad's frustration.
"Well, you're going to help too, Samual," he grumbled. Stubborn as always, he turned and left the room without another word, just like I figured he would.
∆∆∆
MARK
"Mark, wake up," Mia muttered, jabbing me until I slid halfway off the couch.
"What do you want, Mia?" I groaned, barely opening my eyes. She was already looming over me, those deep purple eyes fixed on my face as she tugged at my hair, as it annoyed her just being there.
"Move your damn feet," she snapped.
Max hovered by the doorway, half in shadow, watching us argue over the couch like complete idiots.
My neck tightened as I shot back, "I was here first."
Mia's mouth twisted into a scowl, her eyes flashing. Without warning, she grabbed my shoulder and hauled me off the couch, sending me crashing onto the floor. Who did she think she was? I reached instinctively for my glasses—glasses I hadn't needed since I got my powers. Sparks crackled at my fingertips as I tore them apart. I didn't care anymore.
"James. Everett. Knight." She dragged out the name, pausing between each word. James—and his brother Derek, along with Noah, that smug pretty-boy traitor—had no idea what was coming.
Max stepped forward, baring his teeth in a sharp grin. "Don't ever say his name again," he snarled.
Mia stumbled back at the force of his voice, then laughed, her face twisting before she dropped smoothly to the ground like it was all part of some performance.
I clenched my fists. "Don't be stupid, Mia!"
Both of them turned on me, their stares so intense it sent a chill straight through me. Whatever messed-up love-hate thing they had going on, I was done with it. I shook my head and walked away.
"I could kill him," Mia said casually behind me.
"Do whatever you want," I snapped, "but Mr. Kinley won't be happy."
Max scoffed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. "You still call him that?"
I let out a groan and dragged myself off the couch, already missing how comfortable it had been. Mr. Kinley showed up in the doorway, his thin frame tense as he yanked the hood off Maximus's head. His mouth twisted into a sharp, unpleasant grin before he shot me a look full of contempt and dropped into a small wooden chair.
"It's Alexander. Alex. Or Mr. Knight," he said, his eyes flashing with something cruel. "But call me whatever you want, Mark." He leaned forward, elbows propped on his bony knees, and turned his attention to Max. "So, any idea where everyone disappeared to?"
Mia exhaled slowly, clearly worn down. She didn't look away from Alexander as she answered. "The last thing we heard was that they were heading somewhere in California. That's all I've got."
Alexander ran his tongue over his lips, his eyes lighting up as he asked, "And Noah? Did he go with them?"
Max wrinkled his nose before answering. "Yeah, I think so. I heard it was somewhere down south in California. Maybe back home? I'm not totally sure."
I muttered under my breath, already annoyed by where this was going. "Great. Looks like we're going to California." Mia shifted, her expression blank as she swung her legs over the side of the couch and stretched across the armrest. Alexander glanced at Max, gave him a smug little smile, and then disappeared without saying another word.
