Three days before the bunker fell.
The survivors gathered in Tube-Eva's room, sitting on whatever surfaces they could find—crates, the floor, each other's shoulders. The glass tube hummed its eternal song, and the face within watched them with tired but attentive eyes.
Derek was the one who asked. He'd been listening to Tube-Eva explain something—something about energy, about power, about the thing that made them different—and his brow was furrowed in that particular way that meant his brain was working overtime.
"Neuro-Kinetic Substrate," he repeated, the words foreign on his tongue. "What is it exactly?"
Tube-Eva's smile was gentle. Patient. The smile of someone who had decades of experience explaining things to people who didn't yet understand.
"It's the energy that flows through hybrid bodies," she said. "But not all hybrids. Only the ones who survived the transition with something intact. Something... human."
Leo leaned forward. "Like electricity in me?"
"Similar, but deeper." Tube-Eva's eyes moved to him. "Your electricity is a manifestation. A symptom. The Substrate is the cause. It flows through your nervous system, your blood, your very cells. It's what allows you to heal faster than normal humans. It's what amplifies your abilities. It's what makes you more."
Maya spoke from the corner, her voice quiet. "The Omega feels it. It calls it... fuel."
"Because that's exactly what it is." Tube-Eva nodded. "The Substrate is fuel for everything you are. And for those who can learn to control it—truly control it—it becomes something more."
She paused, letting the words settle.
"Those who master the Substrate can use their abilities completely. Not just the raw power you've learned to access, but techniques. Refinements. Entirely new abilities that build on what you already have."
Jordan's eyes narrowed. "You're describing a skill tree. A progression system."
"I'm describing evolution." Tube-Eva's smile widened. "The Architects wanted to create weapons. What they didn't realize is that weapons can learn. Can grow. Can become something they never anticipated."
Eva, sitting closest to the glass, spoke for the first time. "And Metahumans? Wolfen's not a hybrid. Can he use it?"
Tube-Eva's eyes moved to Wolfen, who was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Metahumans can use it too," she said. "It's harder for them—the Substrate doesn't flow as naturally through their systems. But it's possible. In fact..." She paused, her smile taking on a knowing quality. "It has another name. A simpler one."
Wolfen raised an eyebrow.
"Pulse."
The word hung in the air. Wolfen's expression didn't change, but something in his posture shifted—a tension, a focus.
"Pulse," he repeated.
"With Pulse, a Metahuman or hybrid can create techniques that would be impossible otherwise. Techniques like..." She met his eyes. "Dominance Sphere."
Wolfen's other eyebrow joined the first.
"An area where the caster is in complete control," Tube-Eva continued. "A bubble of reality where their will is law. Inside it, their abilities are amplified. Their enemies' are suppressed. It's the ultimate expression of mastery over the Substrate."
She looked at him, and there was something in her gaze—a challenge, a hope, a knowing.
"Of course, no Metahuman has ever achieved it. The Substrate doesn't flow through them the same way. They can't access the deeper layers. They can't—"
Wolfen started laughing.
It wasn't his usual dry chuckle or his sarcastic snort. It was real laughter—loud, genuine, slightly unhinged. He threw his head back and laughed, the sound echoing off the glass and concrete.
Everyone stared.
"You," he said, pointing at Tube-Eva, still gasping between laughs, "are evil. You know that? Absolutely, beautifully evil."
Tube-Eva's smile didn't waver. "I have no idea what you mean."
"You said Metas can't use it." He wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "You specifically said they can't access the deeper layers. You know me. You know what happens when someone tells me I can't do something."
"I may have... suspected."
Wolfen's laughter finally subsided, replaced by a grin that was all teeth and fire.
"Well then." He straightened, cracking his neck. "I guess I'll just have to take on the challenge."
The room was silent for a moment. Then Leo let out a low whistle. "You're actually going to try? To master something no Metahuman has ever done?"
"Someone has to be first." Wolfen's eyes were alight with something that hadn't been there before—excitement, maybe. Or the particular joy of a challenge finally worth accepting.
He looked at Tube-Eva, and for a moment, something passed between them. An understanding. A shared secret.
"You already knew," he said quietly. "You already knew I'd say yes."
Tube-Eva's smile softened into something almost tender.
"I knew you'd try," she said. "That's always been enough."
Wolfen held her gaze for a long moment. Then he nodded once, turned, and walked out of the room without another word.
The others exchanged glances.
"What just happened?" Derek asked.
Eva, watching the door where Wolfen had disappeared, spoke softly. "He just found his next obsession. And when Wolfen gets obsessed..." She trailed off.
"Things burn," Maya finished.
Tube-Eva's eyes followed the empty doorway, her expression peaceful.
"Things burn," she agreed. "But sometimes, from the ashes, something new is born."
---
Three days later, in the ruins of the bunker, surrounded by enemies and fire, Wolfen raised his hand.
Middle and forefinger pressed together. The rest curled into a fist. A small fireball ignited between his fingertips—tiny, insignificant, barely a spark.
Then it expanded.
The Dominance Sphere roared to life around them, a bubble of absolute control, and Wolfen smiled at the stunned faces of his enemies.
"It's only just beginning," he said.
Somewhere, in whatever came after, Tube-Eva was smiling too.