The chamber was silent, except for the low thrum of energy building in my veins.
I activated Storm Vein in my right hand. Controlled arcs of electricity danced across my knuckles. In my left, I triggered Devourer's Touch—kinetic force rippling just beneath the skin, like a held breath ready to explode.
When I tried to run them at the same time, they clashed—an ugly stutter, like a misfire inside the nervous system. The control wasn't clean.
It was like forcing two magnets together the wrong way. Close, but wrong.
Still, I could feel it: the edges starting to blur.
Not yet harmony.
But the idea of it.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Lorne entered, tired as always, with a datapad clutched to his chest.
"You're still feeling interference?"
I nodded. "Less now. I can guide one through the other for about three seconds. Then it kicks back."
He tapped his screen. "That's more than any known metahuman has managed. I think I found a subject worth stealing from."
The file opened on the screen. A man—older, worn down, half-insane from prolonged neural stress. His body was failing, but the readout of his mutation was clear.
Biofeedback Regulation.
"He could redirect strain," Lorne explained. "He'd consciously control how power moved through his nervous system. Pain. Charge. Momentum. Like adjusting pressure in a pipe. He wasn't strong, but his control was nearly perfect."
"Perfect's all I need."
_________________________________________________________________________________
I found him within two hours.
He was in what used to be the locker room of a collapsed stadium—tattered clothes, shredded boots, bare hands covered in lines of ink and dirt. Pressure maps, maybe. Or just madness.
He was muttering to himself, twitching every few seconds like his body was firing off impulses it couldn't contain. "Nope. No… too much force. Redirect to left hand. Reduce conductivity..."
A living circuit board trying to keep from burning out.
He looked up, met my eyes—and froze. Some instinct buried in the back of his mind told him what I was. Not who. But what.
He ran.
Didn't get far.
I caught him by the collar and slammed him into the crumbling concrete. He gasped, fingers clawing uselessly at my arm.
I pressed my palm to the base of his neck.
All For One.
The power slipped into me like warm current—no resistance. No fight. Like it had been waiting for a new home.
He dropped immediately. Still alive. Barely.
I stood there for a moment, fingers flexing, feeling the shift.
And then I felt it.
A pulse.
Not from him.
From behind.
I turned slowly.
There was a second presence.Light footsteps. Controlled breathing.But off-rhythm—like they were trying to match mine and couldn't.
Someone had been watching.
A kid. Seventeen, maybe eighteen. Dirty coat. Thin gloves. Smart enough to keep his distance until now. But not smart enough to run early.
The moment we locked eyes, he bolted.
I didn't even chase him. I just stepped forward—and blinked.
He stumbled and hit the ground hard. I crouched before he could crawl away.
Panic in his eyes. Something deeper too—hyperawareness. He was tracking every movement I made. Every twitch. His mutation was firing in overdrive.
Peripheral Perception.Rare. Subtle. Passive.
A threat reader. Pressure sensitivity. Environmental mapping in real time.
Useless in the hands of prey.
I placed my hand over his face.
All For One.
This one entered sharply—like biting ice, like snapping wires. Twitchy, wild. My system flinched when it integrated. I forced it down.
The boy went limp.
Another one added.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Back in the lab, I activated Storm Vein again. A familiar pulse now.Then, slowly, I layered Devourer's Touch beneath it.The conflict came—sharp, volatile.
I breathed in. Focused. Let the Biofeedback Regulation take over.
And for the first time…The energy didn't fight.
The current slid alongside the kinetic pulse, not over it. I guided one through muscle, the other through bone. Pressure. Redirection. Layering.
Then I struck the reinforced wall.
The discharge wasn't just an electric burst.It was a concentrated, timed release of both power types, routed to fire in a single direction.
The entire panel cracked inward.
Lorne was watching from above.
He stared down, half in awe, half in confusion.
"You didn't just combine them," he said. "You—what did you do?"
"I layered them," I said. "Stacked in sequence."
"Like modular functions…"
"Exactly."
I sat down, rolling my wrists, feeling the residual twitch of Peripheral Perception kicking in.
I could feel movement around corners. Not clearly. Just tension shifts. Breath changes. Pressure flickers. But it was enough.
My body was telling me more than I asked it to.
"You're reacting faster already," Lorne said. "Your system is interpreting threats before you consciously notice them."
"It's passive," I said. "Always on."
"Do you know what this means?" His voice was low. Serious now. "You're not just adapting. You're forming an internal system—like your own framework for how powers work together. That's… that's never been done before."
I looked at my hand, now still.
The powers inside weren't separate.
They were cooperating.
"I'm not collecting anymore," I said quietly."I'm building."
_________________________________________________________________________________
That night, I sat in the dark, hands resting on my knees, the stolen powers stirring just beneath the surface.
I wasn't stronger.
I was sharper.
One step closer to understanding what I really was.
Not a thief.
Not a vessel.
A system.
And soon?
A weapon the world couldn't blueprint, couldn't predict, couldn't survive.
Ascension continues.