At the Steele household, Sarah Steele sat in her room, staring at her laptop with growing unease. The feed from Dexter’s body cam had cut out nearly an hour ago, plunging her into an anxious silence. She had tried calling out to him through the comms, but there had been no response. Her cousin, the brave but inexperienced Shadow, had gone radio silent—and she feared the worst.
“What do I do?” Sarah muttered under her breath, pacing her room. “He’s been captured... or worse. But what can I even do? I’m just a kid with a laptop.”
The thought of Dexter in the hands of Thunder City’s criminals made her stomach twist. She clenched her fists, her mind racing through every possible scenario. She had no powers, no combat training, and no backup. She couldn’t call the police; they’d dismiss her as a prankster, or worse, discover Dexter’s identity and treat him as a criminal. And the I.S.O.? They wouldn’t even look at a case involving an unregistered vigilante.
“Think, Sarah, think,” she whispered, sitting down and pulling up every surveillance feed she could hack into near the docks. Her fingers flew across the keyboard as she sifted through blurry footage, hoping for a clue, a sign, anything that might tell her where Dexter had been taken.
But there was nothing. The last footage showed him entering the warehouse district, and then... nothing.
Sarah leaned back in her chair, tears pricking her eyes. “I shouldn’t have let him go alone,” she whispered, guilt weighing heavily on her chest. “This was all my idea. And now... now he might be—”
She shook her head, refusing to let the thought finish. Dexter was strong, resourceful. He wasn’t gone—not yet. But if she didn’t act fast, he might be.
“Okay,” she said aloud, steeling herself. “I can’t just sit here and do nothing. If I don’t have powers, I’ll use my brain. There’s got to be something I can do.”
Her mind drifted to the few people who might help. She dismissed most of them immediately—her parents, the school staff, anyone without a connection to Dexter’s secret. They wouldn’t understand, or worse, they’d expose him. But there was one possibility that lingered in the back of her mind.
“Adrian Muller,” she said to herself, her voice uncertain. “He’s scary smart, and he’s got resources. But he’s also... weird. And kind of a jerk.”
She bit her lip, debating. Adrian was brilliant, even by adult standards, but he wasn’t exactly a team player. If anyone could help her find Dexter, though, it might be him.
Her fingers hovered over the keyboard, hesitating before she opened her messaging app. She started typing a message, deleting and retyping it multiple times before finally settling on something simple.
Hey, Adrian. I need your help. It’s urgent.
She hit send, her heart pounding as she waited for a response. The seconds stretched into minutes, and just as she was about to give up, a reply popped up on the screen.
Adrian: What kind of help?
Sarah exhaled sharply, typing back quickly.
Sarah: Can we do facetime? We have to talk quickly
“Hang in there, Dex,” she whispered, glancing out the window at the rainy city skyline. “I’ll find you. I promise.”
********
Adrian Muller leaned back in his chair at his bedroom. His sharp amber eyes were fixed on her image on the computer screen as she fidgeted nervously, her hands clutching a cup of hot chocolate that she hadn’t touched since they sat down.
“So,” Adrian began, his tone calm but tinged with annoyance, “let me make sure I’ve got this straight. Your cousin Dexter is currently being held hostage by the Downtown Ghouls, a gang known for their brutality and their penchant for public displays of power.”
Sarah nodded, her voice tight. “Yes, that’s what I just said.”
“And,” Adrian continued, leaning forward, “you think the best course of action was to come to me. Someone with no combat experience, no direct ties to Dexter, and, might I add, no interest in risking my neck for your family drama? Ever heard of 911?”
Sarah glared at him, her patience wearing thin. “I came to you because you’re a genius. You have resources—money, tech. I don’t have anyone else, Adrian.”
Adrian sighed, rubbing his temples. He wasn’t sure why he had agreed to this meeting in the first place. Maybe it was boredom, or maybe it was the intrigue of seeing how far Sarah would go to solve her problem. Either way, he was here now, and he couldn’t deny that the situation was... interesting.
“Alright,” he said finally. “I’ll admit this is intriguing. But let’s get one thing clear: infiltration is out of the question. Even if I wanted to storm into the Downtown Ghouls’ territory—and I don’t—it would be suicide. Neither of us is equipped for something like that.”
Sarah deflated slightly, but she nodded. “Okay, fine. Then what do we do?”
Adrian leaned back again, tapping his fingers thoughtfully on the table. “We scout. We figure out where exactly Dexter is being held, how well-guarded the location is, and what kind of tools he’ll need to escape. If we’re lucky, we won’t even have to get close to the gang ourselves.”
Sarah tilted her head, frowning. “Tools? What kind of tools?”
Adrian smirked slightly, the hint of a plan forming in his mind. “I’m thinking we give your cousin something to even the odds. Gadgets, weapons, anything he can use to free himself. He’s already in their clutches, so he’s got the best chance of slipping away if we play this smart.”
Sarah hesitated, chewing her lip. “That... could work. But how are we supposed to scout the area without getting caught?”
Adrian chuckled softly. “Leave that to me. I’ve got a few toys that should help.”
Sarah narrowed her eyes. “Toys? Like what?”
Adrian didn’t answer right away. Instead, he pulled out his phone and tapped a few buttons, his expression smug. “You’ll see.”
Sarah relaxed slightly, though she still didn’t entirely trust him. “Fine. I believe you, against my better judgment.”
As Adrian ended the call, his mind raced with possibilities. He wasn’t sure why he was doing this—maybe it was the challenge, maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the chance to test some of his experimental tech in the field. Either way, Adrian Muller wasn’t the type to back down from an opportunity to prove his brilliance.
“Hang in there, Dex,” Sarah murmured, staring out the window at the city. “We’re coming for you.” Dexter groaned as his senses slowly returned, his head pounding and his body aching from the earlier fight. His vision was blurry at first, but as it cleared, he realized he was in a dimly lit room, bound to a chair with sturdy ropes. The air was thick with the metallic scent of damp concrete and oil, and the faint hum of machinery echoed in the background.
Standing in front of him, looking as confident and menacing as ever, was Venatrix, her glowing green eyes piercing through the gloom. Beside her stood another woman with a dangerous air, her violet-tinted hair cascading over her shoulder. She wore sleek black tactical gear and leaned casually against a crate, twirling a shadowy blade in her hand. Dexter recognized her instantly from rumors around Thunder City: Sable “Shade” Noire, Venatrix’s second-in-command and co-leader of the Downtown Ghouls.
“Well, look who’s awake,” Venatrix said, her voice dripping with mockery. She crouched down to meet Dexter’s eye level, her smirk widening. “How are you feeling, little hero? I hope the accommodations are to your liking.”
Dexter’s mouth was dry, but he forced himself to meet her gaze, his voice hoarse but steady. “Been better. But you’ll excuse me if I don’t leave a five-star review.”
Sable chuckled, her voice low and amused. “He’s got a sense of humor. That’s cute. I wonder how long it’ll last.”
Venatrix stood, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. Most kids your age would be begging for their lives by now. But not you. You really think you’re some kind of hero, don’t you?”
Dexter didn’t respond immediately, his mind racing as he tried to assess the situation. His hands and legs were bound tightly, and the chair was bolted to the floor. He could feel his powers stirring faintly, but he knew brute force wouldn’t be enough to escape this time—not with Venatrix and Sable watching his every move.
“What do you want?” Dexter asked finally, his voice calm despite the fear gnawing at his stomach.
Venatrix tilted her head, her smirk turning predatory. “What do I want? Oh, it’s simple, Shadow. I want to send a message—to you, to this city, to every other wannabe vigilante who thinks they can mess with me and my crew.”
Sable stepped forward, her shadow blade flickering ominously as she twirled it between her fingers. “You’ve been making a lot of noise lately, kid. Taking down gangs, stirring up trouble. But you didn’t think it through, did you? You didn’t think someone would come looking for you.”
Dexter clenched his jaw, refusing to show any weakness. “If you’re trying to scare me, you’ll have to do better than this.”
Venatrix laughed, the sound echoing through the room. “Oh, I’m not trying to scare you, Shadow. I’m trying to teach you a lesson. Heroes don’t last long in this city—especially heroes who don’t know when to quit.”
She leaned in closer, her glowing eyes narrowing. “But before I decide what to do with you, I’m curious. What makes a kid like you put on a mask and go after people like me? Got a death wish, or are you just stupid?”
Dexter held her gaze, his blue eyes blazing with defiance. “Someone has to stand up to people like you. If not me, then who?”
Venatrix’s glowing green eyes flared to life, and before Dexter could react, twin beams of energy shot out, striking him square in the chest. The impact wasn’t enough to cause serious harm, but the heat and force burned through his costume and sent a jolt of pain rippling through his body.
“Ah!” Dexter gasped, gritting his teeth as the low-powered beams pushed him back into the chair.
Venatrix’s smirk widened as she leaned forward, her hands on her hips. “Don’t worry, Shadow. I’m keeping it low for now. Wouldn’t want to ruin the fun too quickly.”
Sable Noire rolled her eyes, spinning her shadowy blade in her hand as she glanced at Venatrix, her tone sharp with impatience. “I get that this is fun for you, Vee, but seriously—what’s the point of all this? The kid’s got no information, no allies who’d pay ransom, and no connections that make him worth keeping alive. Why not just kill him and be done with it?”
Venatrix tilted her head, a smirk curling at the corner of her lips. “You’re not wrong, Shade. He’s not exactly valuable. But where’s the fun in just offing him? If we’re going to kill him, we might as well put on a show.”
Sable raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “A show? What, you mean like stringing him up in the middle of town square? That’s old news.”
Venatrix chuckled, her glowing green eyes narrowing with mischief. “No, no. I’m talking something memorable. Something ridiculous. Something... Dr. Mayhem style.”
The henchmen began murmuring among themselves, some laughing nervously, others nodding in agreement. Sable tapped her blade against the side of her leg, clearly skeptical. “Alright, fine. But what’s the plan? You gonna strap him to a giant firecracker? Maybe throw him in the river with a cement floaty?”
Venatrix snapped her fingers, her expression lighting up as an idea struck. “Ooh, I like the firecracker idea! But no. Let’s make this more... personal.” She turned to Dexter, who was glaring at her despite his restrained position, his blue eyes blazing with defiance.
As the preparations continued, Dexter clenched his fists behind his back, feeling the faint hum of his energy growing stronger. He wasn’t going to let this end here—not without a fight. All he needed was one opportunity, one moment of distraction, to turn the tables.
Shadow stared at the massive, oversized coin just before the Downtown Ghouls fastened him facing away from its surface. The cold metal pressed against his back, and the absurdity of the situation almost distracted him from the very real danger he was in.
Standing nearby, Sable Noire twirled her shadowy blade lazily, her violet hair catching the dim light of the warehouse. She flashed a crooked smirk as she addressed him. “My girlfriend and I had a little debate about what to do with you, Shadow,” she said, nodding toward Venatrix, who stood with her arms crossed, clearly pleased with the spectacle. “I wanted to just get this over with, but Vee likes to have her fun. So, we compromised.”
Dexter glared at her, his breathing steady despite the fear creeping in. “Compromised how?” he asked, though he already knew he wouldn’t like the answer.
Sable’s grin widened as she gestured toward the coin. “See, it’s simple. You’ve got a 50/50 chance. If this lovely coin lands upside down, well, you’ll be flat as a pancake. But if it lands right side up, you’ll just break every bone in your body.”
Venatrix laughed, her glowing green eyes flashing with amusement. “Either way, Shadow, you’re going to regret crossing us.”
The gang erupted in laughter, some of them already taking bets on which side the coin would land. Dexter, however, didn’t laugh. He strained against the ropes binding him to the coin, testing his strength, but the restraints were too tight. He could feel his energy building, but it wasn’t enough to break free—yet.
“You’re insane,” Dexter said, glaring at Sable and Venatrix. “You really think this is going to scare people into submission? They’ll just see how desperate you are.”
Venatrix crouched down beside the coin, her smirk widening. “Desperate? Oh, Shadow, this isn’t desperation. This is theater. And you? You’re the star of the show.”
Sable stepped forward, her expression a mix of amusement and irritation. “Vee, quit stalling. Let’s flip the coin and get this over with.”
Venatrix stood, gesturing dramatically to the gang members surrounding them. “Alright, boys, you heard her. Let’s flip the coin!”
The gang erupted into cheers as several of them moved to the massive mechanism designed to flip the coin. It was a crude but effective setup—pulley systems and hydraulic arms that would hurl the oversized disk into the air, sending Dexter with it.
Once the mechanism activated, and the giant coin launched into the air. Dexter gritted his teeth, straining against the ropes with every ounce of strength he had. He could feel the energy building within him, growing hotter, brighter, stronger.
Just as the coin tilted to its breaking point, Dexter closed his eyes, focusing everything on a single, desperate burst of power.
“I’m not done yet,” he muttered, his voice barely audible.
The air around him crackled with energy as the coin lurched forward. The moment the tension reached its peak, Dexter unleashed his power in a blinding flash, the energy exploding outward and shattering the ropes binding him. The force of the blast sent him tumbling off the coin just before it hit the ground, flipping end over end with a deafening crash.
The gang members shouted in confusion, some diving for cover as the coin slammed into the ground, the impact shaking the warehouse.
Venatrix and Sable spun around, their eyes narrowing as they searched for Dexter in the chaos. “Where is he?!” Venatrix snarled, her glowing eyes scanning the room.
From the shadows, Dexter emerged, his suit scorched and tattered but his resolve unbroken. His fists crackled faintly with residual energy as he squared off against his captors.
“You really should’ve just flipped a coin to decide whether to let me go,” Dexter said, his voice low and defiant. “Because now? You’re out of chances.”
Sable Noire smirked, twirling her shadowy blade as she stepped forward. “Please, kid,” she said, her tone dripping with condescension. “You couldn’t even beat Vee one-on-one. What makes you think you can take on me and—”
Her words were abruptly cut off by a sharp, mechanical hum, followed by a sudden flash of light. Venatrix, who had been advancing beside Sable, froze mid-step as a small, sleek infiltration drone darted out of the shadows and discharged a high-voltage pulse. Venatrix’s glowing eyes flickered as she convulsed, the electricity coursing through her body. With a low groan, she crumpled to the floor, unconscious.
“What the—?!” Sable spun around, her violet hair whipping as she searched for the source of the attack.
Before she could react further, more drones emerged from the darkness, their small, spider-like forms scuttling along walls and ceilings. With precision and speed, they fired stun charges and gas pellets at the remaining Downtown Ghouls, taking them down one by one. The gang members collapsed in heaps, groaning or rendered unconscious, the room quickly descending into chaos.
Sable ducked as a drone zipped past her, narrowly missing her with a stun charge. She growled, her shadow blade flickering ominously as she prepared to strike. “What the hell is this?!”
From the corner of the warehouse, Dexter staggered to his feet, his fists still faintly crackling with energy. He blinked in surprise at the sudden turn of events.
Sable turned her sharp gaze on Dexter, her eyes narrowing. “You called in backup? Cute. But drones won’t save you.”
As another drone swooped toward her, Sable slashed it out of the air with a precise swing of her shadow blade, the machine sparking as it hit the ground. She stepped closer to Dexter, her expression fierce. “You’re not walking out of here alive, Shadow.”
Dexter clenched his fists, forcing himself to stand tall despite his exhaustion. “You’re really going to stick around after your whole crew just got taken out? Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought.”
Sable smirked, though her confidence was clearly shaken. “Takes more than a few toys to scare me.”
As she prepared to strike, more drones swarmed into the room, their targeting systems locking onto her. One discharged another pulse, forcing Sable to leap back, while others hovered protectively near Dexter.
“What is this?” Sable hissed, her composure slipping. “Who’s pulling the strings here?”
Dexter didn’t answer, his mind racing as he tried to figure out his next move. The drones were clearly helping him, but he didn’t know how long they’d hold off someone as dangerous as Sable.
Back in the warehouse, Sable’s eyes widened as she saw the grenade drop at her feet. “Damn it—!” she shouted, leaping back as the gas erupted in a thick, choking cloud.
Dexter used the distraction to move toward the exit, the drones forming a protective barrier around him. He didn’t know what Adrian’s ultimate goal was, but for now, he was grateful for the assistance.
As the gas began to clear, Sable emerged, coughing and glaring at Dexter with a fury that could melt steel. “This isn’t over, Shadow!” she snarled, her voice hoarse. “You think you’ve won? You have no idea what you’re dealing with!”
Dexter paused at the warehouse door, turning back to meet her glare. “Maybe not,” he said, his voice steady. “But I’ll figure it out.”
With that, he slipped into the night, the drones retreating with him as the warehouse fell silent, leaving Sable and the unconscious Venatrix behind.
As Dexter stumbled into an abandoned alleyway, still catching his breath, his earpiece crackled back to life. Sarah’s voice, sharp and worried, burst through the static.
“Dex! Are you okay? What happened?” she demanded, her words tumbling over each other in panic.
Dexter leaned against a wall, rubbing his bruised shoulder. “I’m... fine. Sort of,” he muttered, his voice hoarse. “Got roughed up a bit, but I’m out.”
There was a brief pause before Sarah exhaled sharply. “Thank goodness you retreated instead of thinking you could actually take down two supervillains on your own. What were you even thinking, Dex? Were you planning on being squished by that giant coin or just roasted by Venatrix’s lasers?”
Dex managed a weak chuckle, though his body still ached. “Nice to hear you care, Cipher.”
“Oh, I do care,” Sarah snapped, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I care that my cousin doesn’t get himself flattened like a pancake while I’m stuck at home watching the news.”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice,” Dexter replied, his voice defensive. “They had me tied to that thing. What was I supposed to do, wait politely for them to finish flipping it?”
Sarah sighed, the edge in her voice softening slightly. “Okay, fine, you had a rough night. But seriously, Dex, you can’t keep doing this alone. You need better gear, more training—and backup that isn’t just me on a laptop.”
Dexter frowned, the weight of her words sinking in. “I know,” he admitted quietly. “I wasn’t ready for them. Venatrix and Sable... they’re on another level.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” Sarah said, her voice tinged with exasperation. “Super strength, homing lasers, shadow blades? These aren’t your run-of-the-mill gang leaders, Dex. You’re lucky to be alive.”
Dex let out a tired sigh, straightening up and glancing toward the faint glow of the city skyline. “I’ll figure it out, Sarah. I have to. If I back down now, everything I’ve done so far means nothing.”
There was a pause before Sarah replied, her tone softer. “Just... promise me you won’t do something that reckless again, okay? You’re my cousin, and I’m not about to let you get killed because you think you’re invincible.”
Dexter smirked faintly. “I don’t think I’m invincible. But I do think I’ve got some new friends.”
Adrian Muller leaned back in his chair, his lair illuminated by the dim glow of dozens of monitors. Each displayed live footage or recorded data from the infiltration drones he had sent to the Downtown Ghouls' warehouse. The operation had gone better than expected: Venatrix and her gang were neutralized, and his drones had performed flawlessly. But then he replayed the body cam footage from the drones, focusing on the moment Dexter Steele, battered and bruised, emerged from the chaos with crackling energy still faintly glowing around his fists.
Adrian froze, his sharp amber eyes narrowing as realization dawned.
"What?!" he exclaimed, pushing himself upright. His usually calm and composed demeanor shattered as his mind raced. "The Shadow is... Dexter Steele?!"
He stared at the footage again, rewinding and analyzing every frame. The energy blasts, the enhanced reflexes, the raw determination—it all matched up. But something didn’t add up.
"I know Dexter," Adrian muttered to himself, pacing the room. "That idiot’s been in my classes for years. He’s a B-student at best, and he’s never shown any signs of being extraordinary. He’s scrawny, clumsy, and barely stands out. How the hell does he have powers now?"
He rubbed his temples, his mind a storm of calculations and hypotheses. Dexter Steele was the last person Adrian would have suspected of being a superhuman, let alone the vigilante causing such a stir in Thunder City. It didn’t make sense.
"Did he always have powers?" Adrian wondered aloud, his voice sharp and questioning. "No... genetic powers are almost always first expressed during puberty. Let us analyze, if there are approximately 2,100,000 million residents in Thunder City, that equals 525 meta-humans, for superhuman gene carriers to express powers, their parents must have super genes belonging to the sub-group, incompatible genes create a latent carrier. But my computer can't find any family history of superpowers for either the Steele nor the Clearwater family. Although, Shadow's powerset does bear a strong resemblance to that of a early 20th century vigilante."
Adrian stopped pacing, his thoughts snapping into focus. His expression shifted from shock to intrigue, and finally, to cold calculation. “No matter how it happened, this changes things,” he muttered, his voice low. “Dexter Steele, of all people, has entered the game.”
With that, Adrian pulled up a file labeled Project Phoenix, his smirk widening as he began drafting his next move. "Let’s see how far you can go, Mr. Steele. And when you’re at your peak... I’ll be waiting." Adrian Muller sat back in his chair, his amber eyes glinting with ambition as he stared at the blueprint for the Phoenix Armor Mark 1 on his monitor. The design was a marvel of his genius—sleek, efficient, and packed with enough advanced technology to rival even the International Superhero Organization's most well-equipped agents.
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“In any case,” Adrian said to himself, his voice calm and deliberate, “the Phoenix Armor Mark 1 is almost complete. All systems are functional, but I need to conduct live tests. Carefully. I obviously can’t risk my identity being revealed. Not now.”
He stood, pacing in front of the monitors, the flickering light illuminating his intense expression. “For now, I’ve decided to stand before the world as the Phoenix. A faceless criminal genius. A myth—untouchable, unknowable. No one knows he exists yet, and that’s exactly how I want it.”
Back at the warehouse, the air was thick with tension and the faint scent of ozone from the now-destroyed infiltration drones. Sable "Shade" Noire and Venatrix stood among the wreckage, their expressions a mix of fury and frustration. The few remaining drones that hadn't been destroyed had vanished into the night, retreating to some unknown location.
Sable twirled her shadow blade in her hand, glaring at the smoldering remains of one drone she had just slashed in half. "Clever little pests," she muttered, kicking the broken machine aside. "Whoever sent these things is playing a dangerous game."
Venatrix, still recovering from the stun pulse that had taken her down earlier, wiped the blood from her lip and glared at the wreckage around her. Her glowing green eyes were dimmed slightly, a sign of her exhaustion, but her rage was unmistakable. "These weren’t random. Someone planned this—targeted us."
Sable crouched down near one of the destroyed drones, examining its sleek, spider-like design. "This tech... it's not gang work. Too advanced. Someone with serious resources is behind this."
Venatrix crossed her arms, her tone biting. "You think I don’t know that? The question is who. Whoever it was, they just declared war on the Downtown Ghouls."
Sable raised an eyebrow, standing to face Venatrix. "It’s not just about us. These drones weren’t here to take out the Ghouls—they were here for the Shadow. Someone’s got their eye on that kid."
Venatrix nodded, her expression hardening. "Agreed. Get the tech guys to scrape whatever data they can from the wreckage. I don’t care how small the lead is—we’re finding out who’s behind this."
The next morning, Adrian Muller strolled into Thunder City Academy, his usual air of quiet confidence intact despite the long night he’d spent in his lair. He adjusted his backpack as he entered the classroom, nodding briefly at a few students who greeted him, though his mind was elsewhere. His focus remained on the success of his infiltration drones and the sudden revelation about Dexter Steele.
“Good morning, class,” the teacher, Ms. Caldwell, said as she stood at the front of the room. “I hope you’re all ready for the science test today.”
A ripple of groans passed through the room, save for Adrian, who simply raised an eyebrow. Test? he thought, his expression betraying a flicker of surprise. He’d been so consumed with his late-night plans and tinkering that he’d completely forgotten about the exam.
But as Ms. Caldwell began passing out the test papers, Adrian’s mild panic dissolved into bemusement. A quick glance at the questions confirmed that the material was far below his level—basic physics equations, chemical formulas, and a few biology questions that he had mastered years ago.
Self-taught by age nine, he thought smugly as he began writing. If this is supposed to be challenging, the school board really needs to raise their standards.
While the rest of the class scribbled furiously, some with visible signs of stress, Adrian worked methodically, completing the test at a steady pace. Occasionally, he glanced around the room, noting the reactions of his peers. A few looked completely lost, while others seemed mildly confident.
Adrian finished the test with plenty of time to spare. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms as Ms. Caldwell walked past, glancing at his nearly pristine paper.
“Well, Adrian,” Ms. Caldwell said with a smile, “I suppose it’s no surprise that you’re done already.”
Adrian gave a small, polite nod. “Just a matter of preparation,” he replied coolly, though he knew he hadn’t prepared at all. He didn’t need to.
When the bell rang, Adrian turned in his paper and walked out of the classroom, his mind already shifting back to his late-night plans.
During phys ed, the students of Thunder City Academy gathered in the gymnasium for their usual mix of exercises and drills. Sarah Steele, dressed in her gym uniform, stood with her classmates, casually chatting with Dexter as they waited for their warm-up routine to begin.
When the teacher called for a group to practice pull-ups, Adrian Muller stepped forward. Sarah’s eyes flicked toward him, not expecting much from the typically reserved and intellectual student. Adrian rolled up his sleeves, exposing surprisingly well-defined forearms for his age.
Unbeknownst to Sarah Steele or anyone else at Thunder City Academy, Adrian’s explanation about his fitness was only part of the truth. The reality was far more deliberate: Adrian Muller and his cousins, Ava Muller and Noah Muller, were all highly skilled martial artists, each holding multiple black belts in different disciplines.
The Muller family, known for their wealth and influence, valued discipline and excellence in every aspect of life. Martial arts training had been a core part of their upbringing from a young age, instilled by private instructors hired to ensure they were as physically capable as they were academically accomplished. By the time Adrian was 10, he had already earned his first black belt, and his training had only intensified over the years.
For Adrian, martial arts wasn’t just about physical fitness—it was a strategic tool. Every move, every strike, every counter had been drilled into him with precision, not just for self-defense but as a means of controlling any physical confrontation. While Ava and Noah approached their training with enthusiasm and a love for the art, Adrian treated it as a calculated asset, another weapon in his arsenal.
The Mullers’ expertise wasn’t widely known, however. While Noah’s athletic prowess frequently drew attention at school, and Ava’s graceful movements hinted at her training, Adrian had always been careful to downplay his abilities. He preferred to let others underestimate him, a strategy that gave him an edge in every interaction.
Out on the field during phys ed, Dexter Steele found himself paired up with Noah Muller during a casual game of soccer. Noah was an impressive athlete—quick on his feet, agile, and clearly used to physical activity. While Dexter was no slouch, his enhanced abilities gave him a slight edge, even though he was careful not to show it.
“Nice pass,” Dexter said as he kicked the ball over to Noah, who easily intercepted it and began dribbling toward the goal.
“Thanks,” Noah replied with a grin. “You’re not bad yourself, Steele. Didn’t think you were into sports.”
Dexter shrugged, jogging alongside him. “I dabble. You, though—you’re really good at this. Do you play for the school team?”
“Nah,” Noah said, shaking his head. “I’ve thought about it, but my cousins would never let me hear the end of it. Ava thinks sports are too ‘common,’ and Adrian... well, he’d just give me one of his ‘you’re wasting your potential’ lectures.”
Dexter chuckled. “Yeah, that sounds like Adrian. Always serious about everything.”
Noah smirked, glancing at Dexter as they moved down the field. “You’ve talked to him, then? He doesn’t really go out of his way to socialize with most people.”
“Here and there,” Dexter replied casually, careful not to reveal too much. “He’s... intense. But you two seem pretty close.”
“Close enough,” Noah said, kicking the ball toward the goal. “Adrian’s... complicated. He’s crazy smart, obviously, but sometimes I think he forgets how to just chill, you know?”
Dexter nodded, watching as Noah scored with ease. “I can see that. You’re a lot more laid-back than he is.”
“Yeah, well,” Noah said with a laugh, “someone in the family has to be. Ava’s busy being the center of attention, and Adrian’s locked in his lair most of the time, working on God knows what. Me? I just like to keep things simple.”
“Well, at least you’re out here getting some fresh air,” Dexter said, nudging the ball back to Noah. “You’d probably crush it on the school team.”
Noah laughed, shaking his head. “Maybe. But for now, I’m good with casual games. Less pressure, more fun.”
As they continued playing, Dexter leaned casually against a goalpost, catching his breath. He glanced over at Noah, who was sipping from a water bottle, his easygoing demeanor making him seem approachable despite his impressive athleticism.
“Hey,” Dexter said, trying to sound nonchalant, “maybe you could tutor me sometime. You’re a straight-A student, right?”
Noah blinked in surprise, then let out a chuckle. “Me? A tutor? That’s a new one.”
“What?” Dexter said with a grin. “You’re smart, right? And, uh, I could use the help. Science, mostly.”
Noah tilted his head, considering the request. “I mean, yeah, I’m decent at school, but I wouldn’t say I’m Adrian-level smart. Half the time, I’m just trying to keep up with him and Ava.”
“Still,” Dexter said, shrugging. “You’re doing better than I am. Plus, I don’t think Adrian would have the patience to tutor me, and I’m not exactly on Ava’s radar.”
Noah laughed. “You’ve got a point there. Adrian would probably spend the whole time lecturing you about efficiency or something. And Ava? Yeah, she’s more into socializing than hitting the books.”
“So?” Dexter asked, raising an eyebrow. “You up for it?”
Noah leaned back, crossing his arms as he studied Dexter for a moment. “Sure, why not? Could be fun. But don’t expect me to do all the work for you.”
“Deal,” Dexter said, holding out a hand. “Just don’t be too hard on me. I’m already fighting an uphill battle.”
Noah shook his hand with a grin. “No promises. But I’ll try to go easy on you, Steele.”
As they returned to the game, Dexter felt a strange mix of relief and unease. On one hand, having Noah as a tutor might help him keep up appearances—and maybe even give him more insight into Adrian’s family. On the other hand, the more time he spent around Noah, the more guilty he felt about hiding his double life as the Shadow.
As they resumed their game, Dexter dribbled the ball casually, using the opportunity to continue his conversation with Noah Muller.
“So, hold on,” Dexter said, glancing over at Noah. “Adrian is the only one who lives in that mini mansion?”
Noah chuckled, shaking his head. “Technically, no. His parents live there too, along with a few servants. Uncle Johann’s big on appearances, so they have a whole staff to keep the place running. But yeah, Adrian’s got a lot of space to himself.”
Dexter raised an eyebrow. “That’s... a lot for just one family. What about you and Ava?”
Noah shrugged, his expression a little more casual now. “Ava and I live in a big house too, but it’s not on the same level as Adrian’s place. We’re still in Goldcrest Heights—fancy neighborhood, gated community, all that—but our side of the family isn’t as rich as Uncle Johann’s. My dad, Hans, is Johann’s younger brother, and he didn’t get as big of a share of the family wealth.”
Dexter frowned, pretending to focus on the ball as he processed the information. “So... Adrian’s family is richer than yours and Ava’s. But you guys are all close, right?”
“Yeah, we’re close enough,” Noah said with a grin. “Ava’s the social butterfly, and I’m just the guy who tries to keep things chill. Adrian, though—he’s in his own world. Always working on something or hiding out in that lab of his.”
Dexter grinned. “I’ll take your word for it. Silver Ridge might be noisy, but at least it keeps things interesting.”
The two continued their game, but Dexter’s mind lingered on what he’d learned. Adrian Muller wasn’t just a mystery—he was a puzzle, and Dexter was determined to figure out how all the pieces fit.
As the game slowed down, Dexter glanced at Noah, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “So, I gotta ask,” he said, keeping his tone light. “Why do you, Ava, and Adrian go to Thunder City Academy anyway? I mean, it’s a public school, not a private one. Most kids in Goldcrest Heights would probably go to some fancy prep school.”
Noah grinned, wiping the sweat from his brow. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. Most of our neighbors go to places like Westhaven Prep or Goldcrest Academy. But my dad’s big on the whole ‘stay grounded’ thing. He doesn’t want us growing up in some rich-kid bubble.”
Dexter raised an eyebrow. “Really? That’s... surprising. Especially considering Ava stuck in one anyway.”
Noah shrugged, tossing the ball between his hands. “Yeah, well, my dad’s a bit of an oddball for someone living in Goldcrest Heights. He’s always telling Ava and me that just because we’re rich doesn’t mean we’re better than anyone else. He wants us to get along with people from all walks of life. I took that advice way better than my sister did.”
“Well,” Dexter said, tossing the ball back to Noah, “guess it worked out for me. Can’t imagine TC Academy without the Muller trio shaking things up.”
Noah grinned. “Yeah, we like to keep things interesting. Just wait till Ava decides to throw one of her legendary parties. You’ll see what I mean.”
Dexter chuckled, though his thoughts were already elsewhere. The Mullers were more complicated than they appeared, and Adrian, in particular, was a riddle Dexter couldn’t ignore. For now, though, he’d keep things casual—there was no need to raise suspicion. Not yet.
After classes ended, Ava Muller made her way to the Thunder City Rain Studios, one of the premier production hubs for local television and film. She was scheduled to appear on the set of the popular teen drama Rising Tides, where she had a recurring role as a fashionable and witty high school queen bee—essentially a glammed-up version of herself.
Ava arrived in style, stepping out of a sleek black car provided by her family’s driver. Dressed in a designer ensemble that accentuated her natural charisma, she greeted the crew and other cast members with her signature charm, flashing a brilliant smile as she entered the bustling set.
“Alright, everyone,” the director called out, clapping his hands to gather attention. “Places! We’re rolling in five.”
Ava quickly slipped into character, her demeanor shifting seamlessly into the confident, slightly sassy persona she portrayed on the show. The set was a lavishly designed high school cafeteria, and Ava took her place at the center of it all, surrounded by extras and supporting actors.
As the cameras rolled, Ava delivered her lines flawlessly, her natural poise and charisma making her the focal point of every scene. Her red hair shimmered under the studio lights, adding to her almost magnetic presence.
During a break between takes, Ava chatted with one of her co-stars, Lyra Whitfield, who played her on-screen rival but was one of her real-life best friends.
“You’re killing it today, Ava,” Lyra said, sipping on a smoothie provided by the catering crew. “I swear, you’re going to steal every scene this season.”
Ava smiled modestly, though she didn’t disagree. “Thanks, Lyra. But don’t sell yourself short—you’ve got some great moments too.”
Lyra laughed. “Please, everyone’s here to see you. You’re like the star of the show, even if your name isn’t technically in the title.”
Ava shrugged, feigning humility. “Well, I do what I can.”
Their conversation was interrupted by a stagehand who approached Ava with a phone. “Miss Muller, you’ve got a call from your agent. She said it’s urgent.”
Ava sighed but took the phone, stepping away from the set for privacy. “Yes? This is Ava.”
Her agent’s voice crackled through the line. “Ava, darling, I’ve got some incredible news. You’ve been shortlisted for a major role in an upcoming film—something far bigger than Rising Tides. They want you to audition next week.”
Ava’s eyes lit up. “Really? That’s amazing! What’s the role?”
“I’ll send you the script later tonight, but let’s just say it’s going to be a game-changer for your career. You’ll need to start preparing immediately.”
Ava grinned, her excitement barely contained. “Consider it done. Thanks for letting me know.”
As she hung up and returned to the set, Ava couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. Things were going perfectly—school, the show, her social life—and now, this new opportunity.
This is just the beginning, she thought, her confidence soaring. The world hasn’t even seen what I’m really capable of yet.
She straightened her posture, walking back onto the set with renewed determination, ready to take on whatever came next.
After a long day of filming, Ava Muller finally arrived at her family’s luxurious home in Goldcrest Heights. She kicked off her designer shoes, collapsed onto her bed, and pulled out her smartphone. Her social media apps were buzzing with notifications, as always. Comments, likes, tags—it was endless.
“Okay, let’s see what the world has to say today,” Ava murmured to herself as she scrolled through her feeds.
Her MetaSpace post from earlier in the day—a behind-the-scenes selfie from the Rising Tides set—had already gone viral. Thousands of likes and comments flooded in, ranging from fans praising her beauty and talent to brands dropping emojis, hoping for collaborations. Ava chuckled at some of the more over-the-top compliments, though she didn’t have time to read them all.
“Alright,” she muttered, “time to keep the fans happy.”
Ava’s First Post: The Glamorous Life
Ava switched to her MetaSpace Stories and posted a short video clip from the Velour Mystique commercial set, showing herself in the elegant black gown, with the chandeliers sparkling in the background.
She added a caption in her signature polished style:
"Elegance isn't just a look—it's a way of life. ? Had a blast shooting for @VelourMystique today! #Ad #VelourMystique #LuxuryLiving"
The story instantly began racking up views, with fans replying with fire and heart emojis.
Ava’s Second Post: Fitness Vibes
Next, Ava posted a carousel of photos from the Skyline Activewear shoot, showcasing her in several athletic poses. She knew her fans loved seeing her versatile side, and this post was designed to highlight her active, relatable image.
Her caption read:
"Style, strength, and confidence—all in one look. ?? Big thanks to @SkylineActivewear for making me feel unstoppable! #Ad #FitnessGoals #SkylineActivewear"
The post began trending within minutes, with fans praising her athleticism and asking where to buy the outfit.
Ava’s Third Post: Behind-the-Scenes Fun
For her final post of the night, Ava shared a casual clip of herself joking around with Lyra Whitfield during a break on the set of Rising Tides. The two were laughing hysterically, and Ava added a playful caption:
"Not all drama happens on screen. ?? Love working with this queen @LyraWhitfield! #RisingTides #BTS #SetLife"
This post resonated with her followers, showing her more approachable, fun side. Comments began pouring in immediately, with fans celebrating the friendship between the two actresses.
Satisfied with her posts, Ava leaned back on her pillows, scrolling through her notifications. It was impossible to keep up with the sheer volume of comments and messages, but she skimmed through a few:
- “OMG Ava, you’re such an inspiration!”
- “Can’t wait to see the new Rising Tides episode!”
- “Where can I get that Skyline outfit?!”
- “Ava, you’re glowing as always! ??”
Satisfied, she leaned back and typed in her cousin’s name: Adrian Muller. What popped up wasn’t surprising, but it still amused her. Adrian’s profile was almost completely barren—a generic profile picture, no bio, and a grand total of three posts, all dating back years:
- A blurry shot of Butler Nigel’s cat, Archimedes, with the caption: “Cat.”
- A picture of a circuit board he’d been working on, captioned: “Prototype complete.”
- A post with no image at all, just text: “Created this account because some websites require it. Do not expect any further posts.”
Ava burst out laughing, her laughter echoing through the room.
“Seriously,” she said aloud, smirking, “how is it even possible to be that antisocial in the 21st century?”
With a playful sigh, Ava closed the app and put her phone down. While she didn’t exactly expect Adrian to start uploading selfies or posting memes, she couldn’t help but wonder what he was hiding—or if he was hiding anything at all.
Among Thunder City’s social circles, Ava was the star everyone wanted to know, and Noah was the approachable, talented athlete admired for his down-to-earth personality. But Adrian? He barely existed in their world. His name rarely came up in casual conversation, and when it did, it was usually in the context of his brilliance, often from older academics or professionals marveling at his accomplishments.
It wasn’t that Ava Muller herself wasn’t intelligent—far from it. She was a straight-A student, balancing her academics alongside her thriving social and professional life. Teachers often praised her for her focus and ability to excel despite her packed schedule, and many students looked up to her for being the ultimate overachiever. At Thunder City Academy, she was a top ten student, outpacing nearly everyone else in terms of academic performance.
However, the gap between her and Adrian Muller was undeniable and, frankly, daunting.
While Ava excelled within the confines of the school’s curriculum, Adrian operated on an entirely different plane. The material that most students—Ava included—found challenging, Adrian dismissed as trivial. By the time they were tackling advanced subjects like calculus and organic chemistry, Adrian had already moved on to researching university-level concepts. He rarely even bothered to take notes in class, and yet his work was flawless, often going beyond what was required to present entirely new ideas or solutions.
Adrian Muller was a prodigy, almost mythical in reputation. His IQ, an almost incomprehensible 207, had been the subject of articles and panel discussions, even appearing in a few journals that speculated on what someone of his intelligence could achieve in the future. Some even referred to him as a once-in-a-century mind, the type of genius that could change the world if given the opportunity.
Ava often found herself caught between admiration and frustration when it came to Adrian. She respected his brilliance, of course—how could she not? But his complete lack of effort to integrate himself into their world left her bewildered.
Later that night, Dexter Steele, now donning his makeshift Shadow costume, prepared for another patrol across Thunder City. The city’s faint glow reflected off the clouds above, and the air carried the usual tension of a place teetering between chaos and order. He adjusted the hood of his costume, checking his earpiece as Sarah’s voice crackled through.
“Alright, Showtime,” Sarah said, her tone playful but firm. “Where are we focusing tonight? Same areas as before?”
Dexter zipped up his hoodie and glanced out the window. “Silver Ridge and maybe the edge of Downtown. It’s quiet during the day, but at night, it’s a different story. Plus, I’m getting better at handling gangs, so I figure I’ll start small and work my way up.”
Sarah sighed over the connection. “Shadow, you’re improving, sure. But ‘better’ doesn’t mean bulletproof—or laser-proof, for that matter. After what happened with Venatrix, I’d think you’d ease up a little.”
Dexter smirked as he climbed out of his window onto the roof. “Easing up doesn’t stop the bad guys, Sarah. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ve got you to watch my back, right?”
Sarah muttered something about not being able to punch henchmen through a computer, but Dexter was already leaping from rooftop to rooftop, his movements more fluid now after weeks of practice. His powers made traversing the city easier, though he still stumbled occasionally. It wasn’t perfect, but it was progress.
The First Encounter
As Dexter reached a dimly lit street corner in Silver Ridge, he spotted a group of Iron Vipers leaning against a graffiti-covered wall, laughing and exchanging what looked like cash and small, unmarked bags. He crouched low, peering down at them.
“Got eyes on a few Iron Vipers,” Dexter whispered into his earpiece. “Looks like a drug deal.”
Sarah’s voice came through. “Careful, Dex. Those guys aren’t just random thugs—they’re packing serious heat. Any sign of weapons?”
Dexter squinted, his enhanced vision allowing him to make out the glint of pistols tucked into their belts. “Yeah, they’re armed. Nothing too heavy, though.”
“Okay,” Sarah said. “What’s the plan?”
Dexter grinned, his confidence growing. “Smoke bomb first, then I’ll take them down before they know what hit them.”
“Just don’t choke yourself out this time,” Sarah quipped.
Dexter rolled his eyes and pulled out one of the smoke bombs Sarah had rigged. He tossed it into the center of the group, and as the smoke erupted, chaos broke out. The gang members coughed and stumbled, trying to draw their weapons, but Dexter was already in motion.
He moved quickly, disarming the first thug with a swift kick that sent the pistol skittering across the pavement. Another swung wildly in the smoke, but Dexter ducked and delivered a precise punch to his gut, knocking the air out of him.
A Close Call
Things were going smoothly until one of the Vipers managed to fire blindly into the smoke. The bullet whizzed past Dexter’s shoulder, grazing the edge of his costume.
“Whoa!” Dexter hissed, dropping low to avoid the next shot. “Okay, maybe this isn’t as smooth as I thought.”
“Dex!” Sarah’s voice was sharp in his ear. “Get out of there if it’s too much!”
“I’ve got this!” Dexter replied, though his heart was pounding.
He lunged toward the last gunman, using his enhanced speed to close the distance before the thug could fire again. With a powerful uppercut, he sent the man sprawling to the ground, the gun clattering uselessly beside him.
As the smoke cleared, Dexter stood over the unconscious gang members, breathing heavily. He picked up one of the bags they’d dropped, opening it to reveal a small stash of pills.
“Looks like they’re dealing,” Dexter said into his earpiece. “Should I leave this for the cops?”
“Yeah, just get out of there before they show up,” Sarah said. “You’ve had enough close calls with them lately.”
A Bigger Problem
Just as Dexter was about to leave, he heard a low rumble. Turning toward the sound, he saw a black van screech to a halt at the end of the alley. The doors slid open, and a new group of gang members poured out—this time, armed with more than just pistols.
“Uh, Sarah?” Dexter muttered, backing up slowly. “We might have a problem.”
Sarah’s voice crackled in his ear. “What kind of problem?”
“The kind with assault rifles,” Dexter replied, gritting his teeth. “And backup.”
The new arrivals spread out; their weapons trained on him. One of them, a burly man with a scar across his face, stepped forward and smirked. “So, you’re the Shadow. Heard about you. Gotta say, you’re smaller than I expected.”
Dexter clenched his fists, his energy crackling faintly around them. “Yeah, well, you’re uglier than I expected. Guess we’re even.”
The scarred man’s smirk faded. “Take him down.”
As the gang advanced, Dexter braced himself, ready for the fight of his life. This was going to be messy. As the gang members advanced, their weapons at the ready, The Shadow quickly ducked behind a rusted dumpster in the alley. Bullets ricocheted off the metal, sending sparks flying as Dex tried to catch his breath.
“Sarah,” he whispered urgently into his earpiece, “this is bad. They’ve got way more firepower than I was expecting.”
“No kidding!” Sarah shot back, her voice sharp with concern. “Just stay in cover and don’t do anything stupid!”
Dex peeked out briefly, firing an energy blast at the nearest thug. The crackling burst of light struck the man in the chest, sending him sprawling, but it also drew a hail of bullets toward Dex’s position. He ducked back down as the gang peppered the dumpster with gunfire.
“This isn’t gonna work,” Dex muttered. “If I keep popping out like this, they’re gonna pin me down.”
He paused, looking at the scorched mark his blast had left on the alley wall. An idea began to form in his mind. “Wait a second... what if I don’t have to hit them directly?”
“What are you talking about?” Sarah asked, her voice tense.
Dex grinned, a flicker of excitement cutting through his fear. “Watch and learn, Cipher.”
He raised his hand, focusing on the crackling energy in his palm. Instead of aiming straight at the gang, he aimed at the wall near them and fired. The energy blast hit the brick at an angle, ricocheting and striking one of the thugs in the shoulder. The man cried out, dropping his weapon.
“Whoa,” Dex muttered, a triumphant grin spreading across his face. “That actually worked.”
“Wait, did you just—” Sarah began, but Dex cut her off.
“Yup. I can shoot around corners now. Sort of.”
Dex adjusted his position, staying low as he fired another angled blast. This one bounced off a metal pipe, striking another thug in the leg and sending him tumbling to the ground. The remaining gang members looked around in confusion, unsure where the attacks were coming from.
“Okay, this is genius!” Dex said, his confidence building. “I don’t even have to stick my head out!”
“Don’t get cocky!” Sarah warned. “You’re still outnumbered, and they’re not going to just sit there and take it.”
As if on cue, the scarred leader barked an order. “Spread out! Flush him out of cover!”
The gang began moving, forcing Dex to reposition. He darted to another dumpster, narrowly avoiding a burst of gunfire. His heart pounded, but he kept his focus, firing more indirect blasts to keep the gang off balance. Each shot ricocheted unpredictably, catching the thugs off guard and whittling down their numbers.
A Turn of the Tide
The scarred leader, now visibly frustrated, growled in anger. “What kind of freak can shoot like that? Take him out already!”
Dex, hearing the shout, couldn’t resist a smirk. “What’s the matter? Can’t handle a little geometry?”
He fired another angled blast, this time ricocheting it off two surfaces before hitting a thug square in the chest. The man dropped, his weapon clattering to the ground.
The scarred leader turned to his remaining men, gesturing for them to regroup. “Fall back! We’ll regroup and—”
Before he could finish, Dex fired a blast at the ground near his feet, sending a shockwave that knocked him and his men off balance. The gang scattered, some retreating while others scrambled to regroup.
Victory, For Now
Dex stood slowly, his breathing heavy but steady. The remaining gang members had either fled or were lying unconscious. The alley was eerily quiet except for the faint hum of his energy fading away.
“Okay,” Sarah said, her voice filled with relief, “that was actually pretty impressive. I mean, reckless and borderline insane, but impressive.”
Dex leaned against the dumpster, wiping sweat from his brow. “Yeah, well, I didn’t really have a choice. It was either get creative or get shot.”
“Well, you’re not dead, so I guess it worked,” Sarah quipped. “Now, get out of there before the cops show up.”
“On it,” Dex said, quickly making his way to the rooftops. As he disappeared into the night, he couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride. He’d taken on a heavily armed gang and come out on top—not perfectly, but it was progress.
Maybe I’m finally getting the hang of this, he thought as he headed home. One step at a time.
Just as Dexter leapt to the rooftops, a deafening boom echoed through the alley. Pain exploded in his back, and he was thrown forward, hitting the rooftop hard. The impact rattled him, and his vision blurred for a moment.
“What the—?!” Dex gasped, twisting to look behind him. A lone Iron Viper thug stood in the alley below, holding a double-barrel shotgun. The man cursed under his breath as he began reloading, fumbling shells into the weapon.
“Dex! What happened?!” Sarah’s voice crackled urgently through the earpiece.
Dex gritted his teeth, the pain throbbing in his back. “Shotgun... got me from behind. I’m okay—kind of—but he’s reloading.”
He groaned as he pushed himself up, his enhanced durability sparing him from serious injury but leaving him sore and dazed. His costume was torn, and the force of the blast had left shallow cuts and bruises across his back.
The thug, now finished reloading, raised the shotgun again, aiming at Dex on the rooftop. “You think you’re tough, Shadow? Let’s see you handle another one!”
“Not today,” Dex muttered, adrenaline kicking in as he rolled to the side just as the second shot fired. The pellets blasted into the edge of the rooftop, sending chunks of debris flying. Dex felt his heart pounding as he scrambled to his feet.
The thug began reloading again, but this time, Dex didn’t wait. He raised his hand, summoning the energy that crackled in his palm. His aim was shaky from the pain, but he fired an energy blast directly at the shotgun.
The crackling bolt struck the weapon, sending it flying out of the thug’s hands. The man yelled in frustration, clutching his burned fingers.
Dex jumped down from the rooftop, landing with a thud a few feet away from the thug. His vision swam for a moment, but he steadied himself, adrenaline keeping him upright.
The thug, now weaponless, backed up slightly, his bravado fading. “Stay back, man! I’ll—I’ll take you down!”
Dex didn’t answer. Instead, he lunged forward, his enhanced strength making short work of the thug. He delivered a punch to the man’s gut, sending him crumpling to the ground with a groan.
As the thug lay groaning, Dex grabbed the shotgun and threw it into a nearby dumpster, far out of reach. He stood over the man, catching his breath as the adrenaline began to fade.
“Dex, are you okay?!” Sarah’s voice was frantic in his ear.
“I’m... fine,” he said between breaths. “Got the guy. Took his shotgun away. But I need to get out of here—now.”
“Yeah, no kidding! You’re not invincible, you know!” Sarah snapped, her worry barely masked by irritation.
Dex staggered to his feet, his back aching with every step. He climbed back up to the rooftops, his movements slower now, and began heading home.