The sound began as a low hum, vibrating the wrenches on the metal tables. Then the cracks came.
White light fractured the surface of the blue crystal cocoon on the Council table. The air in the penthouse grew heavy, tasting of copper and impending lightning.
"Back," Silas ordered as he rolled his wheelchair away from the table. "Everyone back against the walls. The discharge will be significant."
Leo ducked behind a sofa, peeking over the top. Isobel stayed by the window, her shadow stretching toward the table, anchoring her against the rising energy storm.
CRACK-BOOM.
The crystal didn't just shatter; it sublimated. In a blazing flash of blue-white light, the shell turned into vapor and raw electrical potential.
The penthouse windows blew outwards.
As their vision cleared, they saw Jax standing on the table.
He was naked yet not exposed. He was surrounded by arcing electricity. The Lichtenberg figures that had once scarred his neck now glowed across his entire body like molten gold beneath his skin. His hair floated slightly, charged with static.
When he opened his eyes, they had no pupils or irises. They were pools of swirling, electric blue light.
He didn't breathe air; he breathed current.
"Jax?" Leo whispered as he stood up from behind the couch.
Jax turned his head slowly, in a jerky manner like stop-motion animation.
"Too loud," Jax said. His voice didn't just come from his throat. It echoed from the room's speakers, the lightbulbs, the wiring in the walls. It was a layered, resonant sound.
"What is too loud, Jackson?" Isobel asked calmly as she stepped over the broken glass.
Jax pressed his hands to his head. Sparks rained down from his hair.
"Everything," Jax groaned. "The toaster three floors down. The L-train pulling into Adams/Wabash. The heartbeat of the squirrel in the park. I can even hear the rust growing on the hinges."
He squeezed his eyes shut. Outside, the clear morning sky instantly darkened. Charcoal-grey thunderheads formed over the Magnificent Mile in seconds. A bolt of lightning struck the antenna of the John Hancock Center, shattering the morning calm.
Silas looked at his scanner and then out the window.
"His neural pathways are overloaded with sensory input from the city's infrastructure," Silas concluded. "And his emotional state directly affects the weather."
"He's a raw nerve," Isobel said. "Connected to everything."
Leo cautiously approached the table. "Jax? It's me. Leo. Zip. Remember the arcade? Remember the slushies?"
Jax looked at Leo. The swirling light in his eyes began to slow.
"Leo," Jax repeated. The name seemed to ground him. The lightning outside stopped flashing, though the clouds remained. "You're... quiet. Your spark is quiet."
"Yeah, the Bureau took it, remember?" Leo said as he extended his hand. "But you got it back. You're looking out for everyone."
Jax glanced at his own hands. He clenched his fist, and the air around it warped with heat.
"I feel..." Jax started but paused, searching for a word that didn't exist. "Limitless."
He stepped down from the table. His bare foot touched the metal floor.
Instantly, every light in the Water Tower went out.
"Oops," Jax winced. "Sorry. Still adjusting the output."
Silas wheeled himself forward. "Mr. Miller, your physiology has changed fundamentally. You're not just conducting Ley energy anymore. You're generating it. You're a living reactor."
Jax looked out the broken window at the city below. The streetlights were still on, despite the daylight. The green grass in the park visibly grew, with vines creeping up the neighboring buildings.
"It's hungry," Jax whispered. He wasn't talking about himself, but about Chicago. "It's been starving for six months. It wants to grow."
He placed his hand on the window frame. The metal didn't melt; it glowed with a soft blue light.
Far in the distance to the south, they could see the Bureau's wall cutting across the horizon. The Green Zone beyond it looked dull and grey compared to the vibrant, chaotic energy now flooding the Wild Zone.
Jax narrowed his eyes. The thunderheads outside twirled faster, creating a tight cyclone directly over the Water Tower.
"They built a cage," Jax said, his voice dropping an octave, vibrating the floorboards. "I don't like cages."
Isobel looked at Silas. The power dynamic in the room had shifted dramatically. Jax was no longer the junior partner, the useful battery for the Alchemist and the Necromancer. He was the storm, and they were standing in the rain.
"What do you plan to do, Jackson?" Isobel asked.
Jax turned from the window. The electricity on his skin settled down, humming quietly.
"Thorne turned off the lights," Jax said. "I think it's time we return the favor."
He walked toward the elevator doors without pressing the call button. He simply placed his palm flat against the metal doors.
The elevator shot up the shaft at remarkable speed, arriving in seconds. The doors blasted open.
"Silas, fix your leg," Jax commanded over his shoulder. "Isobel, wake up your army. Leo, find me some pants that won't burn off."
Jax stepped into the elevator.
"We're going to the wall."
The elevator dropped, not with the hum of machinery, but with the roar of a lightning strike.