Blackout.
2025
"Again!"
The voice cut through the cold morning air like a blade.
Terry didn't hesitate.
He pushed himself up from the dirt, arms trembling, lungs burning like they were on fire. Sweat mixed with dust across his face, dripping down his jaw.
"Move, soldier!" the instructor barked.
Terry moved.
He always moved.
Even when his body screamed.
Even when his vision blurred.
Even when everything inside him begged him to stop.
Because stopping meant weakness.
And weakness wasn't allowed.
The training ground was merciless.
Mud. Blood. Steel.
Men broke here.
Some physically.
Some mentally.
Terry did neither.
He endured.
"Zone Seven needs reinforcement."
That was all the explanation he got.
No comfort.
No warning.
Just orders.
And Terry followed them.
The battlefield didn't look real.
Smoke swallowed the sky.
Gunfire never stopped.
The ground itself felt unstable, like it could give way at any moment.
"Move! MOVE!" someone shouted.
Terry ran.
Then—
Light.
A flash so bright it erased everything.
Sound vanished.
The world folded in on itself.
And then—
Nothing.
When he woke up, it wasn't the battlefield anymore.
It was white.
Clean.
Silent.
Too silent.
He tried to move.
Pain answered.
Sharp.
Unforgiving.
His body didn't feel like his anymore.
It felt… assembled.
Reconstructed.
"…You're lucky to be alive," a voice said somewhere nearby.
Lucky.
Terry stared at the ceiling.
He couldn't hear properly.
Everything sounded distant.
Muffled.
Like the world had been pushed away from him.
"…Multiple fractures," the voice continued. "Extensive reconstruction. Reinforced with—"
Terry stopped listening.
He didn't need the details.
He already knew.
He wasn't whole anymore.
"You're unfit for active duty."
The words were calm.
Official.
Final.
Terry stood there, uniform still on, but it didn't feel like it belonged to him anymore.
"You can still contribute in other ways—"
"I'm done," Terry said.
His voice was flat.
Not angry.
Not emotional.
Just… done.
He walked away that day.
From the army.
From purpose.
From everything he thought he was.
Blackout.
The sky tore open.
Not like an explosion.
Not like anything Terry had ever seen.
Reality itself… shifted.
He stood far from the epicenter.
But he felt it.
Everyone did.
A pressure.
A distortion.
Like the world was glitching.
Then—
It hit him.
His body jerked violently.
His vision fractured.
"—what the hell—"
His voice broke mid-sentence.
His hands—
They flickered.
In and out.
Like they weren't fully there.
"NO—"
Pain surged through him.
Not physical.
Something deeper.
Something wrong.
He dropped to his knees, gripping his head.
"STOP—!"
His body spasmed.
His senses scrambled.
Sound warped.
Light bent.
Then—
Everything snapped.
And Terry collapsed.
Unmoving.
Blackout.
Present Day
The room felt smaller now.
Tighter.
Like the walls themselves were closing in.
Terry stood still.
Calm.
Focused.
Across from him—
Fire burned.
Not metaphorically.
Literally.
The fire user stood there, flames dancing around his arms, eyes sharp with anger.
For a moment—
No one moved.
No one spoke.
Just tension.
Raw.
Unstable.
Ready to explode.
The fire user exhaled sharply.
Then—
He shook his head.
"…Not worth it."
He turned.
Just like that.
As if the fight wasn't worth his time anymore.
"Stay out of my way," he muttered.
No one stopped him.
No one dared.
He walked straight toward the security line again.
Flames curling tighter around his arms now.
More controlled.
More dangerous.
The head of security saw him coming.
And this time—
There was no confusion.
Only fear.
Real, suffocating fear.
His grip tightened on the gun.
But his mind—
Was elsewhere.
His daughter's birthday was next week.
He had promised he'd be there.
Promised he wouldn't miss it this time.
Not like last year.
Not like the year before.
He remembered the way she looked at him—
Trying to understand why her father was always "busy."
"You'll come this time, right?"
His throat tightened.
He hadn't answered immediately.
And she noticed.
Kids always did.
Now here he was.
Gun raised.
Hands shaking.
Staring at something he didn't understand.
Something he couldn't control.
Something that could kill him in seconds.
"Move!!!"
The shout snapped him back.
Loud.
Sharp.
Final.
The fire user stood right in front of him now.
Flames blazing hotter.
Eyes burning with something unstable.
"Move," he said again, quieter this time.
But somehow worse.
The guard didn't move.
Couldn't.
His legs felt locked.
His body betrayed him.
Then—
Something shifted behind the fire user.
Terry moved.
Fast.
Faster than anyone expected.
His fist drove forward—
Solid.
Heavy.
Unstoppable.
Impact.
The fire user's body lifted off the ground—
Sent flying across the room—
Crashing hard into the reinforced wall with a thunderous force that shook the space.
Gasps erupted.
Silence followed.
Heavy.
Unbelieving.
The fire user didn't get up immediately.
A few seconds passed.
Then—
Movement.
He pushed himself up slowly.
Blood touched his lips.
He wiped it with the back of his hand.
Looked at it.
Then smiled.
Not amused.
Not impressed.
Just… furious.
"…Alright."
Flames ignited.
This time—
Not small.
Not controlled.
They surged.
Wrapped around him like a storm waiting to break.
"Let's go."
Terry didn't respond.
Didn't need to.
His skin shifted again.
Darkened.
Hardened.
Layered like living armor across his arms and torso.
Then—
They moved.
The collision was violent.
Fire met force.
Heat slammed into reinforced hide.
The impact alone sent a shockwave through the room.
Tables overturned.
People stumbled back.
The air itself seemed to crack under the pressure.
Blow after blow.
Fire lashed out—
Terry blocked, deflected, endured.
Each strike chipped at his defense—
His hardened skin fracturing under repeated impact—
Only to slowly rebuild itself again.
Not instantly.
But steadily.
Relentlessly.
Around them—
The others watched.
Tense.
Uneasy.
No one stepping in.
Not yet.
But it was building.
Everyone felt it.
The head of security swallowed hard.
His hands still trembled.
But something changed.
Fear didn't disappear.
But it shifted.
Into something else.
Responsibility.
He raised his gun again.
Higher this time.
Voice steadier—
Barely.
"STOP!"
The word echoed.
Sharp.
Desperate.
His men followed.
Weapons raised.
All aimed now.
For a moment—
It almost worked.
Then—
A new voice cut in.
Calm.
Cold.
Certain.
"I think…"
Heads turned.
A man stepped forward slowly.
"…it's time we left this place."
His hand lifted.
Casual.
Effortless.
And then—
Something shot out.
Fast.
Viscous.
Slime-like strands slammed into the security line—
Pinning two men instantly against the wall.
Weapons ripped from their hands.
Shock froze the others.
"…What the hell—?!"
Panic broke.
Gunfire erupted.
Loud.
Chaotic.
Uncontrolled.
Shots rang out in every direction.
Some aimed.
Some not.
Doesn't matter.
Because now—
There was no control left.
The fire user and Terry didn't stop.
Didn't even react.
They kept fighting.
Harder now.
Faster.
More dangerous.
Around them—
Others began to move.
Not to help.
Not to stop it.
But because something inside them was starting to respond.
To react.
To awaken.
Voices rose.
Powers flickered.
Tension snapped.
It was only a matter of time now.
Before everything—
Went to hell.