November 11, 1987
The training chamber's metal floor looked different now. Not because Silver Guy had reshaped it into some impossible obstacle course or turned the walls into a knife maze, but because, for once, they weren't here to be tested.
At least, that's what Orange Guy said.
Energy Guy didn't buy it.
He sat on the edge of a raised platform, legs dangling over the side as he watched Fire Guy and Charcoal argue about something stupid near the far wall. Charcoal was talking with his hands, eyes bright for once. Fire Guy was rolling his eyes, pretending not to care.
Silver Guy stood a few feet away, arms crossed, watching them all with that same unreadable expression he had always worn.
"Hard to believe it's been two years," Silver Guy said quietly.
Energy Guy glanced over. He hadn't realized Silver Guy was talking to him.
"Two years since… what?" Energy Guy asked.
"Since you three arrived," Silver Guy replied. "Since Astrapi bonded. Since this facility started prioritizing you above every other asset we have."
Energy Guy huffed out a bitter laugh.
"Above every other asset," he repeated. "Wow. Almost makes kidnapping sound like a promotion."
Silver Guy didn't rise to the bait. His gaze stayed fixed ahead, on Fire Guy and Charcoal.
"You've all grown," Silver Guy said instead. "Faster. Stronger. More precise." He paused. "Less reckless."
"Yeah, well," Energy Guy muttered, "getting electrocuted on purpose a few hundred times will do that."
He flexed his fingers. Tiny threads of blue light flickered between his knuckles before fading.
Silver Guy glanced at the sparks. For a fraction of a second, his expression shifted, just a little. Something almost like… recognition. Or memory.
"You handle it better than most would," Silver Guy said. "Electricity isn't a gentle element. It doesn't like being contained."
"Feels like you're talking from personal experience," Energy Guy said.
Silver Guy was quiet for a heartbeat too long.
"The King once had a saying," he replied instead, sidestepping the comment. "Abilities are like bloodlines. They choose a path and stay within it. They repeat themselves."
Energy Guy frowned. "That's… vague. Even for you."
Silver Guy exhaled slowly through his nose.
"There was a time," he said, "when certain… traits were valued more than others. Certain combinations. Certain… accidents."
Energy Guy tilted his head. "Accidents?"
Silver Guy's jaw worked, like he was grinding down a dozen words before they could escape.
"Some people," he said eventually, "were born out of mistakes. Choices made in desperation, or selfishness. They weren't planned. They weren't wanted." His gaze flicked, just once, toward Energy Guy, then away. "But they were… useful."
Energy Guy felt something cold crawl up his spine.
"Useful how?" he asked.
Silver Guy didn't answer right away. He looked down at his gloved hands instead.
"Lineage matters," he said. "You should remember that."
The way he said it made Energy Guy's stomach twist.
Before he could press more, the metal doors at the far end of the chamber slid open with a loud hiss.
Orange Guy stepped through like he owned the air itself.
He wore no crown this time, just the deep red cape draped over his shoulders, but it didn't matter. His presence filled the room like static. The staff materialized in his hand with a crackle, casting faint orange reflections across the chrome.
"Silver Guy," Orange Guy called lightly. "I didn't ask for a lecture."
Silver Guy's posture tightened.
"Just conversation, Your Majesty," he replied.
"Spare me," Orange Guy said with a curl of his lip. "You don't do 'just' anything."
He swept his gaze across the three boys.
"Good. You're all here."
Fire Guy dropped from the platform he'd been standing on, landing with a thud. "We gonna get fried today, or is this a day off?" he asked.
"Neither," Orange Guy replied. "We're taking a trip."
Energy Guy blinked. "A… trip?"
Orange Guy's staff tapped against the floor. A holographic map flared to life in the air: jagged peaks, endless forest, the faint outline of a familiar landmark.
"Yosemite National Park," Orange Guy announced. "The mountains. Beautiful place. Very… isolating."
Charcoal's eyes widened slightly. "We're… leaving the lab?"
"Temporarily," Orange Guy clarified. "I've leased out a portion of the park. No tourists. No interruptions. Just the four of you and an obscene amount of money's worth of silence."
Energy Guy's chest tightened. The idea of seeing sky that wasn't framed by reinforced glass or security towers made his heart stutter.
Fire Guy folded his arms. "Why?" he asked. "You don't do things 'just because.'"
Orange Guy's chuckled under his breath.
"Consider it a change of scenery," he said. "A chance to observe how you perform outside of controlled environments."
He let that last word hang in the air just long enough.
Silver Guy stepped forward slightly. "All security precautions have been arranged," he said. "Perimeter barriers. Surveillance. Extraction routes."
"Of course they have," Orange Guy replied. "You're thorough to a fault."
He turned to the boys.
"Gather what little you own," Orange Guy ordered. "We leave in an hour."
Just an hour later, helicopter blades thundered above them, chopping straight through the clouds.
Energy Guy sat squished between Fire Guy and Charcoal on the bench seat, his headset clamped over his ears, wind shoving against the windows. Across from them, Orange Guy sat relaxed, one boot crossed over the other, staff resting against his shoulder like this was just another commute.
Silver Guy stood near the door, one hand lightly gripping the ceiling rail to steady himself. He didn't bother with a headset. He didn't seem to need it.
Below, the world shifted from concrete and steel to endless green.
"Look," Charcoal said softly, nodding toward the window.
Energy Guy followed his gaze.
Mountains.
Layer after layer of jagged stone and pine, dusted with snow like icing on a cake. Rivers that looked like silver threads from this height. For a moment, Energy Guy forgot how to breathe.
He pressed his hand to the glass.
"I forgot it looked like this," he whispered.
Fire Guy glanced out too, his expression tight but softer than usual. "Never seen it in person," he admitted. "Just in Pictures. Tried to draw it once. Didn't look like that."
Charcoal stared, eyes wide, a faint, almost disbelieving smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Orange Guy watched them all with a detached interest, as if they were part of the scenery he'd paid for.
"You three act like you've never seen the sky," he said.
"We haven't for the past two years." Fire Guy shot back.
Orange Guy's smirk returned.
"Then consider this a reward for your progress," he replied. "You've all come a long way since those padded walls."
He tilted his head.
"Especially you," he added, looking briefly toward Charcoal.
Energy Guy's jaw tightened.
"Yeah," he muttered under his breath. "Especially him."
The helicopter began its descent. The trees rushed up to meet them.
The three stepped out of the helicopter, planting their feet on the earth below.
Yosemite was quieter than they had expected.
Not silent. Just… quiet.
The wind threaded through the pines, carrying the smell of sap and cold stone. Somewhere far off, water crashed against rock. The sun sat high and bright above the peaks, painting everything in sharp, impossible color.
The helicopter had dropped them on a flat, rocky clearing near the edge of a cliff face. The nearest tourist trail was miles away. No cars. No voices. No cameras that they could see.
But Energy Guy knew better than to believe that last part.
Orange Guy stepped onto the rock like an emperor touching down on new land. His cape blew viciously in the wind.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" he said.
Charcoal nodded wordlessly.
Fire Guy squinted against the brightness, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "It's cold," he complained.
"It's a mountain, not a beach," Energy Guy said. "Be grateful you're not on fire for once."
Fire Guy elbowed him in the ribs. Not hard.
Silver Guy scanned the tree line, eyes sharp, posture relaxed in a way that made Energy Guy think he was anything but.
"Perimeter is clear," Silver Guy reported. "No civilians within range."
"Good," Orange Guy said. He planted his staff in the rock with a faint crackle. "Then we can speak freely."
Energy Guy felt a prickle down his spine.
"As I said," Orange Guy continued, "today isn't about combat drills or stress tests. Not directly. I want to see how you move when the world doesn't look like a cage."
He pointed the staff toward the peaks stretching out behind them.
"Explore," he ordered. "Climb. Breathe. I don't care what you do, as long as you don't die doing it."
"Comforting," Fire Guy muttered.
Orange Guy's gaze slid to him.
"Fire Guy," he said, "you'll stay here with me and Silver Guy."
Fire Guy's shoulders tensed.
"Of course I will," he said flatly.
Orange Guy turned to the other two.
"Energy Guy. Charcoal," he said. "There's a ridge up that way." He nodded toward a steep, narrow path that snaked between jagged rocks and scraggly trees. "You'll take it up to the peaks. Consider it a… field test of your stamina and adaptability."
Energy Guy followed his gesture. The path looked like a twisted spine stabbing into the sky.
"Just us?" he asked.
"Just you," Orange Guy confirmed. "Stay within view of the main valley. If you fall, I'd prefer to at least see the splash."
Charcoal glanced at Energy Guy.
"You good with that?" he asked quietly.
Energy Guy forced a grin.
"Yeah," he said. "Race you."
Charcoal's smile widened, genuine this time.
"If you say so."
They started toward the path.
"Charcoal," Orange Guy called.
Charcoal paused, turning back.
Orange Guy's expression softened by a fraction.
"Don't strain yourself," he said. "You've been through more scans than the others this month. If you feel… off, you call for me. Understood?"
Charcoal nodded.
"Yes, sir," he said.
Energy Guy didn't look back.
He didn't need to.
He could see it all perfectly clear in his head.
Especially you.
Don't strain yourself.
More scans than the others.
Useful.
Promising.
Anomaly.
The words stacked up in his chest like bricks.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and kept walking.
The path up the mountain wasn't made for those who got winded easily.
Loose stones slid under Energy Guy's boots with every step. The air thinned out as they climbed, scraping at his lungs. Pine needles crackled underfoot. The valley dropped away behind them, the lab and its white walls shriveling into nothing somewhere far beyond the forest.
At first, Charcoal walked in silence.
But as the wind picked up, as the trees thinned and the sky opened wider, something in him shifted.
"This is…" Charcoal said, searching for the word. "Insane."
"Good insane or bad insane?" Energy Guy asked, ducking under a low, twisted branch.
"Good," Charcoal said immediately.
His eyes were brighter than Energy Guy had ever seen them. He wasn't hunched. He wasn't watching the floor. He was watching everything.
"The air doesn't smell like chemicals," Charcoal said. "Or metal. Or hospital cleaner. Just… trees. And rock. And cold."
Energy Guy snorted.
"You're really gonna write poetry up here, huh?" he said.
Charcoal laughed, breath puffing white in front of his face.
"Sorry," he said. "I just—this is the first time in years I've been somewhere that doesn't feel like it was built to trap me–it's…"
"…It's almost like I'm free."
Energy Guy pushed a rock aside with the heel of his boot.
"Well you're pretty much still trapped," he muttered. "Just with better scenery."
Charcoal shrugged. "Even if this is a cage," he said, "I'll take it over glass walls."
They climbed higher.
At one point, the path narrowed to a ledge barely wide enough for one person. To their right, the cliff rose up in broken gray slabs. To their left, the ground dropped away into a blur of pines and stone.
Energy Guy swallowed.
"Don't look down," he said.
"Too late," Charcoal replied.
He edged along the ledge, fingers brushing the rock. The wind shoved at them like an impatient hand.
"You scared of heights?" Charcoal asked.
Energy Guy snorted.
"I've jumped off platforms higher than this," he said. "On purpose. While full of lightning."
"That's not an answer," Charcoal pointed out.
Energy Guy hesitated.
"…Maybe," he admitted.
Charcoal smiled.
"We'll walk slow," he said. "You can pretend we're still in a simulation."
Energy Guy rolled his eyes.
"Wow. Thanks, coach," he said.
But he did feel a little better.
Back on the clearing, Fire Guy stood stiffly near the edge of the rock while Orange Guy and Silver Guy talked several feet away.
They weren't whispering.
They didn't need to.
The wind carried just enough of their words to sting.
"—stability has held," Silver Guy was saying. "Astrapi saturation is consistent. Flame output remains within predicted parameters, though his projected peak is still…" He hesitated.
"Dangerous?" Orange Guy supplied.
"Unmanageable," Silver Guy corrected.
Fire Guy's jaw tightened.
"I can hear you," he called.
Orange Guy turned slightly, not surprised.
"I know," he said. "You're not a child anymore. You don't need your medical records sugar-coated."
Fire Guy stalked closer.
"You talk about me like I'm a bomb you're hoping doesn't go off," he said.
"That's because you are," Orange Guy replied calmly. "A controlled explosive. Emphasis on 'controlled.'"
Fire Guy's hands curled into fists.
"Then maybe stop treating us like parts," he snapped. "Like tools. Like numbers you run through machines. Maybe then we wouldn't want to explode so much."
Silver Guy shifted.
"Careful," he said quietly.
Fire Guy whirled on him.
"No," he said. "You don't get to 'careful' me. You were there when they dragged us out of our homes. You knocked us out. You strapped us in. Don't act like you're the reasonable one now."
Silver Guy's face stayed blank.
"I never claimed to be reasonable," he said.
"Then what are you?" Fire Guy demanded. "His dog?" He jerked his chin at Orange Guy. "His slave? His puppet?"
Orange Guy watched them with mild interest, as if this were just another experiment.
Silver Guy's hand twitched at his side.
"I am the one keeping you alive," Silver Guy said. "Every time your flames flare past safe levels, who douses them? Who reinforces the walls before you melt them? Who stops the facility from suffocating you when your fire eats the oxygen?"
Fire Guy flinched.
"I didn't ask you to—"
"No," Silver Guy interrupted. "You didn't. That's the point."
He took a step forward, the metal under his boots humming faintly.
"You think I enjoy watching this?" Silver Guy said. "Watching three teenagers be fed to a system that will never care about what you want? You think I wake up excited to calibrate your suffering?"
Fire Guy opened his mouth, but no words came out.
Orange Guy's eyes narrowed slightly.
"Silver Guy," he said warningly.
Silver Guy inclined his head, pulling himself back.
"You're angry," he said to Fire Guy, his tone cooler again. "You should be. Anger is useful, when you aim it at the right target."
Fire Guy let out a bitter laugh.
"And who's that?" he asked. "You? Him? The idiots who sold us?"
"All of the above," Silver Guy said. "But if you burn out now, you won't have a chance to hit any of them."
Fire Guy's fists shook.
"Stop talking to me like I'm a weapon you're trying to keep in one piece," he said. "Start talking to me like a person."
Silver Guy hesitated.
"You're sixteen," he said at last. "You should be worried about exams and dates and arguments that end with slammed doors instead of contracts. Instead, you're here. With us."
His gaze flicked to the horizon.
"I am not the one who decided that for you," Silver Guy said quietly. "But I am the one who can make sure you see seventeen."
Fire Guy inhaled sharply.
His birthday was in a week.
He hadn't told them that.
"How do you—" he began.
"I read files," Silver Guy said. "All of them."
Orange Guy's staff crackled once, a low warning.
"That's enough philosophy for today," Orange Guy said smoothly. "We didn't come here for therapy."
Fire Guy rounded on him.
"Then why did we come?" he demanded. "Really. No speeches. No pretty words. Why drag us out here? Why now?"
Orange Guy considered him for a long moment.
"Because sometimes," he said finally, "it's useful to see what happens when you remove the walls. If you want to understand someone, you don't only watch them in cages. You watch them in open spaces too."
He glanced toward the peak where Energy Guy and Charcoal had disappeared.
"And I am very interested," he said, "in what those two do when no one is looking."
On the mountain, the peak wasn't the highest in the range.
But it felt like the top of the world.
Energy Guy and Charcoal reached a wide, flat outcropping of rock that jutted from the side of the mountain like a stone ship's bow. The forest stretched out below in every direction, a sea of green and gray. The wind was sharper up here, thinner, cleaner.
Charcoal walked toward the edge slowly, like he was afraid the whole thing might vanish if he moved too fast.
He stopped a few feet from the drop and just… looked.
For once, his shoulders weren't hunched.
He stood straight.
The wind ruffled his hair. His bright, sky blue eyes shined like diamonds.
"I could stay here forever," Charcoal said quietly.
Energy Guy's chest tightened.
He hung back a few steps, hands stuffed in his jacket pockets, watching Charcoal take it in.
Charcoal tilted his head back, closing his eyes for a second.
"No glass," he murmured. "No cameras. No scanners. Just… this."
Energy Guy swallowed.
"You really like rocks that much, huh?" he said.
Charcoal laughed softly.
"Yeah," he said. "Guess I do. And the earth in general."
Energy Guy's gaze drifted to the valley below.
He could see the rough line of a river cutting through the trees. A few birds gliding on updrafts, tiny and distant. No fences. No lab roofs. No neon lights.
He should have felt free.
Instead, something ugly twisted inside his ribs.
"You know," Charcoal said after a moment, "if you'd told me Two years ago I'd be standing here, I'd have thought you were insane."
"Two years ago you were in a cage," Energy Guy said.
Charcoal nodded.
"Yeah," he said. "I was."
"Now you're in a nicer one," Energy Guy said. "With a view."
Charcoal turned to look at him.
"Better than that room," he said.
Energy Guy didn't answer.
He walked closer, boots scraping against the stone.
"You ever think about it?" Energy Guy asked. "Why us? Out of everyone in the world, why three random kids with dead dads and missing moms and messed up lives?"
Charcoal shrugged.
"Numbers," he said. "Compatibility. Blood. Whatever makes his machines happy."
He nodded vaguely in the direction of where he imagined the lab was.
"Do you?" Charcoal added. "Think about it?"
Energy Guy laughed once, sharp.
"Yeah," he said. "All the time."
He moved closer to the edge, stopping beside Charcoal. The drop yawned beneath them, dizzying.
"I think about how you're always the one they're talking about," Energy Guy said.
Charcoal blinked.
"What?"
Energy Guy's jaw clenched.
"'Charcoal's vitals are fascinating.' 'Charcoal's readings are promising.' 'Charcoal this, Charcoal that.'" He pitched his voice into a mocking imitation of Orange Guy's smooth tone. "Every time there's a meeting, every time there's a new test, who's name comes up first?"
Charcoal's smile faded.
"Energy Guy—"
"I get it," Energy Guy said, cutting him off. "You're the anomaly. The mystery. The special one. You walk into a room and they see question marks and exclamation points. I walk in and I'm… what? The funny one. The spare."
Charcoal's brow furrowed.
"That's not—"
"Isn't it?" Energy Guy snapped.
He laughed again, but there was no humor in it now.
"Fire Guy's the walking nuke," Energy Guy went on. "They're terrified of him. They plan around him. 'Will the facility survive if he melts down?' 'Will he take out the power grid?' He's a threat. He matters."
He jabbed a thumb at his at his own chest.
"Me?" he said. "I crack jokes. I jump. I throw sparks. I pass out when they pump too much into me. I'm fun to watch in training and easy to sedate when they want me quiet."
His hand shook as he pointed at Charcoal.
"But you," Energy Guy said. "You don't even have a flashy ability. You just… get hooked up to machines and somehow you're worth more pages in their files than the rest of us combined."
Charcoal stared at him, stunned.
"Is that what you think?" Charcoal asked softly.
"What else am I supposed to think?" Energy Guy shot back.
The wind whipped around them.
Charcoal's gaze dropped.
"When I was in that glass room," he said, "they used to look at me like I was contamination." He laughed weakly. "Now I'm a puzzle. An 'anomaly.' Feels different. But it isn't."
He looked up again, eyes steady.
"I don't want any of it," Charcoal said. "The tests, the scans, the attention. You think I like being the one they jab the most needles into?"
Energy Guy's fingers curled into fists.
"That's not the point," he said.
"Then what is?" Charcoal asked.
Energy Guy inhaled sharply, chest tight.
"The point is," he said, "every time Orange Guy walks into a room, he looks past me. He looks at you. He calls you by name first. He tells Silver Guy to 'monitor you closely.' He says you're 'promising.'"
His voice dropped.
"I've spent my whole life being the kid nobody picked first," Energy Guy said. "Not in class, not at home, not anywhere. Now I'm in a place where they literally built power into my veins… and I'm still standing behind someone else."
Charcoal flinched.
"That's not my fault," he said quietly.
"I know," Energy Guy said. "I know it isn't. That's the worst part."
His hand trembled at his side.
"I like you," Energy Guy said. "You're my friend. You're… you." The words came out rough. "And I still look at you and think, 'Why you? Why not me? Why does the universe bend around you and barely notice when I'm in the room?'"
He laughed, bitter and broken.
"I hate that I think that," he said. "I hate that I look at you and feel—"
His voice snagged on the word.
"Envious," Charcoal finished.
Energy Guy swallowed.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Envious."
For a long moment, there was only the wind.
Charcoal turned back toward the view.
"You know what I see when I look at you?" he asked.
Energy Guy didn't answer.
"I see the guy who walked into a padded room and tried to make a joke out of it," Charcoal said. "Who grabbed my hand and told Fire Guy, 'What if it all works out?'"
He glanced sideways at him.
"You're not invisible," Charcoal said. "You're… loud. Messy. Annoying. You don't let the room ignore you."
Energy Guy scoffed.
"Could've fooled me," he muttered.
Charcoal's voice cooled.
"That's the thing about envy," he said. "It doesn't care what's actually true. It just whispers the loudest lie and waits for you to believe it."
Energy Guy's fingers twitched.
His palm burned.
He looked down.
Blue light crawled across his knuckles, brighter than before. Tiny sparks leapt from fingertip to fingertip, frantic and wild, like they'd been waiting for something to snap.
"Hey," Energy Guy said weakly. "Do you… feel that?"
Charcoal frowned.
"Feel what?"
Energy Guy's heart pounded against his ribs.
The electricity swelled, flooding his arm, racing up into his chest.
His thoughts scattered.
He could hear his own pulse roaring in his ears, a static-filled drumbeat.
He took a step forward without meaning to.
Charcoal was still turned toward the view.
"You standing next to me," Energy Guy said, voice distant to his own ears, "it's like staring at everything I'm not."
His right hand tightened into a fist.
Blue fire lit his skin.
"I don't—" Energy Guy started. "I don't mean to—"
His fist drew back.
He didn't tell it to.
Every muscle in his arm locked, electricity screaming for somewhere to go.
Behind his eyes, something flickered.
For a fraction of a second, he saw Charcoal falling.
Saw his own hand outstretched.
Saw the trees rushing up.
Saw nothing.
Then the image snapped away, replaced by the present, the peak, the sky.
"Charcoal," Energy Guy choked out.
Charcoal turned.
The warmth in his face was gone.
His eyes were empty.
Stone cold.
"Of course you'd do this," Charcoal said quietly.
The words hit Energy Guy harder than any punch.
"What?" he whispered.
Charcoal stepped closer.
The wind roared around them, but his voice cut straight through it.
"You think I don't see it?" Charcoal asked. "The way you look at me when Orange Guy talks? When Silver Guy pulls me aside? When they hook me up and you're left outside the glass?"
He tilted his head, studying Energy Guy like he was something under a microscope.
"You say 'what if it all works out' like you believe it," Charcoal said. "But you don't. Not when it comes to me. You just hope it works out in a way where you're on top."
Energy Guy's breath came in short, sharp bursts.
"I—I don't—"
"You're not stupid," Charcoal went on. "You know exactly how much attention you're not getting. You count it. You hoard every second they spend looking at me, and you turn it into proof that you're less."
His gaze dropped to Energy Guy's crackling fist.
"You don't even have to mean it to hurt someone," Charcoal said. "You just have to let that feeling run your body for a second too long."
Energy Guy's whole arm shook.
The electricity clawed at his nerves, begging for release.
"I'm not—" Energy Guy stammered. "I wasn't going to—"
Charcoal smiled.
It was small.
And terrifying.
"You already did," he said.
Energy Guy's stomach lurched.
"What are you talking about?" he whispered.
Charcoal's eyes were unreadable.
"Envy doesn't need a reason," Charcoal said. "It doesn't need proof. It just needs a moment. One slip. One punch. One fall."
He took a step backward.
Closer to the edge.
"Don't—" Energy Guy gasped. "Don't move."
Charcoal ignored him.
"You want to know what really scares me about you?" Charcoal asked. "It's not your electricity. It's not your jokes. It's not even your anger."
He spread his arms slightly, like he was testing the balance of the wind.
"It's how much you want to matter," Charcoal said. "How far you'll go to stop feeling like you're second. Even if you don't realize you're doing it."
Energy Guy took a stumbling step forward.
"Charcoal, stop," he said. "I didn't— I wouldn't—"
Charcoal's gaze softened.
For a moment, he looked like the boy in the bunk below him again. The one who laughed at bad metaphors and stared too long at the ceiling.
"Maybe you wouldn't," Charcoal said. "But something in you already did."
He glanced over his shoulder at the drop.
"Maybe not here," he added. "Maybe not now. But somewhere."
Energy Guy's vision blurred.
"What are you—"
Charcoal looked back at him.
"Envy is a funny thing," he said. "It doesn't care about timelines."
He smiled one last time.
"Don't worry," he said softly. "This one's on me."
And then he stepped back.
Not a flinch.
Not a slip.
A choice.
His heel left the rock.
His body tipped.
Energy Guy lunged forward, electricity exploding around him.
"CHARCOAL!" he screamed.
But he was too slow.
Charcoal fell.
For a heartbeat, his body was a pale shape against the jagged green, arms spread, hair whipping.
Then he vanished into the trees below.
Branches cracked.
Leaves shook.
And then—
Nothing.
No thud.
No body.
Just the forest, still and indifferent.
Energy Guy dropped to his knees at the edge, hands digging into the stone so hard his fingers ached.
Sparks leapt from his skin, snapping wildly in the cold air.
"Charcoal," he gasped. "Charcoal!"
He stared down into the endless green, eyes burning.
There was no flash of blonde hair.
No broken form.
Just emptiness.
The wind howled.
Somewhere far below, a bird took off, startled, then vanished into the sky.
Energy Guy's throat closed.
His hand, his traitor hand, still buzzed with leftover current.
He pressed his knuckles against the rock until they hurt.
"It wasn't me," he whispered.
There was no one left on the peak to hear him.
Only the mountain.
And the echo of a boy who'd decided to fall before anyone else could push him.